Vignettes of the World
We arrived at the infiltration tunnels as our last stop on the tour. There was to be no cameras on this part of thetour. We watched a film about the specific history of the infiltration tunnels. All was good and well, and I enjoyed the …
Military subsistence at the DMZ was supported by the Panmunjom Village. Villagers did not pay any taxes to the Korean government as it did not come under its administration. They grew food in their fields, and one important crop was ginseng. The area being off-bounds …
Although in principle the soldiers in the DMZ did not bear arms (therefore they were all black belts in martial arts) there had been armed confrontations at the DMZ. There was the Axe Incident, where 2 UN commanders were killed when the UN side tried to trim down a poplar tree that was blocking the view from the UN.
Originally when the DMZ was set up, the soldiers from the two sides could roam freely within the zone. After the Axe Incident the UN instituted a strict border. Thus even in the conference room the polymers on the table denoted the actual border. Half the table in South Korea, the other half in North Korea.
Another incident happened where a Soviet defected to the “free world” and there was shooting. Some people died but the Soviet managed to accomplish his personal mission. After that, an executive order was issued to the effect that the North Korean soldiers would guard facing each other. The South Korean soldiers guarded the border facing the north. The North Korean soldiers guarded facing each other, for if anyone, including the guarding soldier, was to defect, the other will shoot. That means they guarded the border, as well as each other.
In many parts of the DMZ we could not take photographs. I imagined that was done to protect us, as photo-taking was considered spying and could subject the whole group to danger. As I toured the area, I certainly felt the sense that I was being watched, by unseen and unknown faces in the bushes. That was the classic tension of the Cold War in the 1980s, the fear that I remembered when I was younger.
After the Bollinger Hall the tour arrived at Checkpoint 3. There we saw North Korea from afar. In that vast expanse we could see the enormous North Korean flagpole and the statue next to it celebrating North Korean communism. The guide introduced the Propaganda Village, where North Korean propaganda was made and broadcasted to the country’s population. The village was now uninhabited and we could see the blue tops, the little houses that were the machinery of the state. Even at its mere appearance there was something haunting about that view of the North. A huge flagpole, a statue and a village that was deserted was the first impression of North Korea that I encountered.
The flagpole was 160 meters high hanging a flag of 30 meters in length. It would take 60 grown men just to hold the flag. The flag would be taken down during rainy days, for it would rip. The North Koreans built this flagpole in response to the South Koreans’ building of a huge one. I noted that it was within my own lifetime that national rivalry could be taken to this literal extent.
It was on a beautiful day that I visited the DMZ. Yet visibility seemed to have ended where North Korea began. My pictures of the Propaganda Village turned out hazy, as if even nature would stop the outside world from peering into the North, by descending a shawl of fog that shielded the one truly communist country remaining in East Asia. It stood afar in an unreachable mysteriousness, the only clarity was the classic Cold War tension that could still be felt.
At Checkpoint 4 we saw the Bridge of No Return. The Bridge of No Return was where the Prisoners of War (POWs) were exchanged when the Korean War ended. Although this was not the famous original site where the soldiers were shown the option of either choosing the red North or the free world, its historical significance was amply conveyed. Once the choice was made, there would be no second chance. There was no longer any guard at Checkpoint 4 now, because in that zone the North Koreans could shoot.
I could not remember how many soldiers stationed at the border then, but the United States has cut down its military presence there, as such 96% of the guards at the border were South Koreans. I read on the newspaper a few days later that the South Koreans wanted to install remote controlled mines because they also wanted to cut down the military, in the belief that the advances in defense technology would provide adequate security against invasion by the North.
This is part of a series on the Demilitarized Zone at the 38th Parallel separating North and South Koreas. Please visit the other entries in this series below:
South Korea – The DMZ and the Bollinger Hall.
“There ain’t no D in the DMZ.”[1] It was a privilege for those from the West to be able to see the DMZ and Panmunjom via a U.S. tour organized by the USO. If I kept my Hong Kong identity, I could not have gone. …
The Jackfruit Festival of Kwong Ban Tin Village in Tsuen Wan has become a popular event amongst the Hong Kong locals as a family-friendly occasion to celebrate the jackfruit harvest in the fall each year. In October 2016, I went there to learn the story …
Yun-hak, the young man that I met on the plane, rather insisted that I saw the Gyeongbokgung Palace. Although that was not what the Lonely Planet recommended, I went because a Korean native told me to.
Once I was there, however, I began to understand why. Gyeongbokgung Palace was the first palace in Seoul. It was constructed in 1395 by Yi Seong-gye, three years after his founding of the Joseon Dynasty. The location was carefully chosen because the surrounding mountains provided symbolic anchorage to the Dynasty. With Gyeongbokgung Palace as the seat of power, the new dynasty moved its capital from Gaeseong to Seoul (known in ancient times as Hanyang.) It was burned down many times throughout its long history. Some of the current structures were bare because they were built anew or restored during the 1990s. Yet the history there would serve as the perfect vantage point from which to view the Joseon Dynasty.
In 1873, King Gojong built Geoncheonggung between the garden hill of Noksan and Hyangwonjeong Pavilion. He lived in the bed chamber of Geoncheonggung with his queen, the Empress Myeongseong. Korea was embroiled in conflicts and animosities with Japan. Japanese expansionist policies (and Russian influence as well) rose with the first Sino-Japanese War and its attendant consequences for East Asia. A fire broke out in Gyeongbokgung Palace in 1876, and King Gojong moved to Changdeokgung Palace. He came back to live in Geoncheonggung in 1885 for ten years.
Perhaps the most fascinating story at the Gyeongbokgung Palace was the assassination of Empress Myeongseong by Japanese assassins in 1895. Empress Myeongseong was a staunch force against Japanese influence during the late 19th century. Her enemies in Korean politics, including her father-in-law, the father of King Gojong, were complicit with the then Japananese Minister to Korea in bringing about her assassination in Geongbokgung Palace.
In the early hours of October 8, 1895, insurgent Korean regiments surrounded the palace and overwhelmed the royal guards. They then allowed Japanese assassins in, who then ravaged the Okho-ru (the reconstrcted building of which is pictured above in this entry), where the Queen was. The murder was brutal and against international law. Koreans and foreigners alike were appalled.[1] The Empress’ assassination came to be known as the Eulmi Incident. It would be fair to say that it ushered in Korea’s modern history, the next chapter of which was modern-time colonialism under Japan’s rule beginning in 1905.
The Gyeongbokgung Palace taught me the part of Korean history that would pave the way for Korea’s struggles in the next century. The stories there gave color to the otherwise bare structures, still under reconstruction when I visited. I absolutely adored the poetic motifs hung on both sides of the mainway, in Hanja (which I read as Chinese).
Outside the Geongcheonggung, I saw the beautiful Hyangwonjeon pavilion and the lake surrounding it, frozen and with children playing and many Koreans hanging out. Finally, having reached the main hall, which has been restored, I could imagine the palace in its former glory. As I exited the Palace through its front entrance, a procession of Korean royal guards dressed to the occasion did a round of Lunar New Year salute.
In the afternoon I did a walking tour in Seoul, and saw on the streets the bustling city life that gave this city its lively vibe. I visited the Bosingak bell tower, which was closed. I then walked along the Cheonggye Stream, and ended at the Lotte Department Store for souvenirs.
Dinner was samgyetang (ginseng chicken soup in a hot pot), a much-needed nurture in the bitter cold. Outside of the restaurant I walked into Myeongdong. Its breathtaking night market scene bore every feature of South Korea that I imagined it to be: prosperous, boisterous, glamorous and a big party for all. I bought Korean hip hop music as souvenir for myself.
I got back to the hostel as quickly as possible, to calm myself before the big excursion. The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) was for the next day.
[1] The Wikipedia has a very good account of the history.
On the first day of the Lunar New Year I spent much of the day celebrating the occasion with many other South Koreans at the Namsangol Hanok Village. I heard the word “gugak” spoken, and eventually figured that it was referring to the traditional dance …
Once outside of Seoul, the non-Korean-speaking tourists would be left to their own devices as to how they communicate with the Koreans and find their way around. That was Suwon to me. In Hanja, Suwon means “the origin of water.” Suwon is the provincial capital …
The Qing Dynasty mansion known as Tai Fu Tai is a site that speaks to the local history in Hong Kong before the colonial times. Originally constructed as home to Man Chung-luen, the brick mansion showcases the honor bestowed on a senior Qing official. A better description of the history of Tai Fu Tai is provided by the Antiquities and Monuments Office:
Tai Fu Tai was built in the 4th year of the Tongzhi reign (1865) of the Qing Dynasty as the residence of Man Chung-luen. According to the genealogy of the Man clan, the Mans originated in Sichuan and migrated to Jiangxi and Guangdong during the Southern Song Dynasty (1127-1279). The Mans began to settle in San Tin, Yuen Long in the 15th century. Man Chung-luen, the 21st generation ancestor of the clan, was bestowed the title of dafu (or tai fu, which means senior official).[i]
I find this mansion to be worthwhile to visit because it stands witness to the history of the indigenous population of Hong Kong. The architecture is elegant. Particularly worthy to note are the figurines on the ridge of the roof depicting aspects of local life then.
The inner courtyard on the east side of the building is a little world of its own, with a small exhibition indoors that explains the history of the site. The kitchen on the west side of the building features stone-cut grinders and a wooden furrow that was used to make peanut oil.
Taxi from Yuen Long might be the easiest transport for visitors to reach the Tai Fu Tai. Otherwise, bus Route 76K runs from Sheung Shui or Yuen Long. Get off at the San Tin stop.
There is no admission fee. The site is closed on Tuesdays except for public holidays. Less than one hour is required for this site.
This is part of the series on the Man clan’s history in San Tin, Yuen Long. See also the entries on Tung Shan Temple and Man Lun Fung Ancestral Hall. Consider doing all these sites in one trip. It is doable within a half day.
[i] Introduction to Tai Fu Tai, the Antiquities and Monuments Office of Hong Kong.
“Seoul, the Soul of Asia” is quite a catchy characterization of Seoul. It is not my phrase, but it did inspire some curiosity in me. How was the soul of Asia like? To the extent possible, I explored Seoul on foot and by public transport. …