November 24, 2006

Seoul (DMZ & Orphanage)

The DMZ is a Korean “must see”, simply for the historical significance and even more so for the current learning from the South Korean people. The South Koreans are still hopeful for eventual reconnection with relatives in the North. Hopes are put into objects like the reunification bell and bridge.







More tangibly and patiently the South Koreans provide aid in the form of food and economic assistance, trying to help their disjointed peoples to the North. This is inspite of persistent aggression and posturing from the dictatorial North Korean regime.





My biggest surprise was the fact that the North Korean’s had built seven known tunnels for a re-invasion of South Korea since the "Cease Fire". Each was found prior to completion through test drilling efforts of the South. Many of the tunnels, capable of moving over 30,000 troops per hour, were large enough to transport artillery pieces.

These tunnels are bold incursions under the demilitarized zone of the north, passing well into the southern DMZ. Assumptions are, that if successful, these human pipelines would have emerged beyond the Southern DMZ lines. When the North assessed that they had been discovered they quickly painted sections of the walls black and said that they were errant coal mining shafts. This is a geologic impossibility since the bedrock is solid granite. Once this logic flaw was realized by the North, the next explanation was equally brilliant. “We didn’t build them, the South did.” This obviously explains the non-existent entry points in the South. The South, under UN supervision to prove North Korea’s violation of the Cease Fire Agreement, drilled the only major entry point below the 38th Parallel.

The next tourist location within the DMZ is the observation platform, where both the Northern and Southern zones are clearly visible. We had a stellar day and could see for miles to the North.



The contrast between the two Korea’s is immediate. The most obvious feature is that the South is forested and practically every living thing has been cut down north of the DMZ for fuel. Less than a mile to the south of the watchtower hill is a brand new "state of the art" train station, waiting for the first cross border excursion.




Upon return to Seoul, I rode the subway for an hour to the north and then caught a train to find the new location of the orphanage. The Korean hospitality continued. One of the orphanage staff met me at the train station and drove me to the new location. The smaller original and relocated orphanage had burned in the late 1970’s leaving a still standing white shell next to the newer building.





The orphanage and 52 resident children are still very much supported through volunteers and donations by US Military personnel. The new director grew up in the original Paju location and made the transition to Seoul. I couldn’t take pictures of the children because it was after dark and the young ones were preparing for bed, while the older children were scattered in the yard. However, it was very reassuring to receive their cheerful sendoff when they realized I was leaving.

My key “take away” and lasting impression from Korea will be the warmth of her people. My new friends, the street food vendors, further demonstrated this. I loved being around this husband and wife team. They simply radiated comfort. Over the three evenings of eating at their stand we shared laughs and smiles. This evening the husband was graciously giving me new things to try. When he cut into the sausage, my stomach turned. I didn’t want to be impolite. So, I did what every good tourist should do and took a picture and tried it. The sausage was actually a casing filled with black translucent rice noodles and bits of mystery protein. It was surprisingly delicious. Everyone, including the bystanders were please with my positive response.





I picked up the pace a little on finishing my meal, as the animal organs steaming in the pot next to the sausages were nothing, even politely, that I wanted to try. In saying “good bye” the wife asked insistently a single word “Tomorrow?” This evoked the mime routine of “not tomorrow, I’m flying away.” After many handshakes, nods, and smiles I headed back to the hostel to pack for the morning flight.

November 23, 2006

Seoul to Paju

Since we are a day ahead here in Korea, I've already spent
Thanksgiving traveling north to Paju to try to find an orphanage my
Dad worked with in 1963.

Not being able to speak a word of Korean, I stepped off the train to a
platform in the middle of the country with no town in sight. All I
had was my computer with a picture of a certificate the Korean
government had given to Dad. It was time to start walking and finding
someone.

I rounded a bend in the road and came across a children's playground
of sorts. The people were gracious. With barely a common word
between us they got me pointed in the right direction and onto the
proper bus to take me to town. A young woman overheard a conversation
in Korean about me and literally took me under wing for about two
hours.

I'm fighting a cold today, so she unsolicidly took me to an apothocary
for a local cold cure which I drank after the insistant instruction of
"dinkah, dinkah". Then she brought me to the town's City Hall and
enlisted a crew of about five people to find the orphanage. While
they deciphered the certificate displayed on the laptop screen and
researched, others literally showered me with clementine oranges and
green tea.

No luck in Paju... It ends up that the orphanage was very small and
when the US Army Medical Batallion moved to Seoul, so did the
orphanage. So the staff at City Hall found the new location of the
orphanage, called to make introductions and even gave me directions.
(This was all conveyed through an interpreter.)

After making sure the interpreter relayed my thanks, my mystery friend
from the inbound bus led me to the proper bus stop for Seoul
passengers. When the bus arrived she instructed the driver. I got
on, paid, sat down, and looked out the window towards where she was
standing. I waved and as the bus pulled away she jogged along side
waving back. Such total grace from a complete stranger...



What a day for gratitude!
There is much for which to be thankful.

One the bus ride back to Seoul I looked at the mountains and struggled with emotion. Dad has been gone for about a year and a half, but to look at hills that he would have looked at every day while serving with the Army in Korea really made me want to pick up the phone and call him. He always said that the coldest experience of his life was winter in Korea. With the combination of humidity and late fall chill in the air my bones felt the fridged depth of his descriptions.



After returning to Seoul, I was motivated to walk along the river, inspite of my cold and the temperature. The result was a perfect night for capturing clear bridge pictures.

November 22, 2006

Osaka to Seoul

Complete juxtaposition between the cleanliness of Japan and the relative filth of Korea was my initial reaction to being dropped off by the airport bus at Hapjeong station. In Japan a stray piece of trash on the pavement was an anomaly but in the five-block walk to the hostel in Seoul I could have easily filled 10 fifteen gallon garbage bags. I’ll stop short here and leave the other senses out of the picture.

After dropping my bags at the hostel, discouraged, I set out for the city center. Ascending out of the subway, I was greeted with a spectacle of literally over 300-thousand demonstrators. They were striking government workers. The demonstration even made it on the international version of CNN.

Starting at the city center and stretching for over a mile, past the Imperial Palace, police buses lined the street. Thousands of what appeared to be seventeen-year-old police troops waited for orders. They leaned against buses, smoked, and told jokes, killing the time.







The Imperial Palace complex was very impressive, even more so than the Kyoto imperial grounds. Although architecturally similar the Korean Imperial Palace was preserved and much more colorful. The painted buildings were only rivaled by the ginko tree's yellow display of fall folliage.













The highlight of the tour was a group of Korean schoolgirls that I kept running into at differing palace locations. Each time, the poor ugly duckling of the group was relegated to taking the group picture. So I came up and offered to take a group picture with everyone included. This brought a roar of giggles. These girls didn’t take a stone face portrait, but were a perpetual motion machine, posing in as many goofy positions as possible. After coming across the group for a second time, complete with group photo, I asked them to wait so I could take a picture with my camera. They thought it was hysterical that I took the camera and made a self-portait/group snap. They then grabbed a Japanese tourist to take group photos of all of us together. The energy was contagious.



The ginko trees were ablaze in yellow fall foliage, especially behind this stoupa erected in the Goryeo dynasty circa 1085. Most of the other trees had already dropped their leaves, with the exception of a few maples. A school group of 5 and 6 year olds was playing in the leaves. It was great to watch them chase each other with sliding, crunchy feet. Then the teacher asked all the children to throw leaves at the same time resulting in a fireworks of leaves, screams, and giggles.







On the way back to the hostel, I stopped by one of the many street vendors to see what people were eating. Before you knew it, a couple had pulled me in to try various hot foods. I think the first was some sort of tofu on a stick in fish broth. You get a stick and a cup of broth. Tasty, but the communal double dipping in the soy sauce was a little gross.



Next was some form of rice noodles in an unbelievably hot & spicy red sauce.



It was freezing outside but the sweat was still rolling off my forehead. The final course was a type of tempora of squid, sushi rolls, and various vegetables. All this cost about three dollars. No one spoke any English and the group around the stand would watch with each new item to see whether it drew a smile or grimace. Each affirmation brought head nods, smiles, and even a few elbows delivered from believers into the ribs of those who had apparently bet against my accepting palette.



I was just beginning to receive a foretaste of Korean hospitality.

November 21, 2006

Hiroshima to Osaka

I rode the train up to Osaka with Aaron, a Manchester United fan complete with the David Beckham Mohawk. He is a remarkably chilled out guy and a solid conversationalist. The hour and fifty minutes to Osaka flew by.





The hostel in Osaka was almost space aged in architecture and had the perfect mix of traditional Japanese culture and modern amenities. For instance, state of the art European style bedding and a traditional group bath system for the entire hostel. Don’t let your mind wander, the men and women each have separate baths.



In an effort to keep fit, I walked from the hostel, which is by the train station, to downtown and back. This entailed finding foot traffic across the river and back again. This was very tricky because nothing is marked well and the areas around the river are quite dodgy.





This was an effort in faith, as I followed a few decently dressed people into dark tenements. My hope hinged on the instinct that they were actually walking to a hidden bridge staircase and not entering the area for darker reasons. Given the pace of their stride, my hunch was the first scenario would hold true. Just about the time my conscience was saying return the way you came, a spiral staircase rose about 100 meters ahead. This was a big relief with sunset a good two hours passed. The only thing left was the “homeless possessions obstacle course” over and around their belongings (no one was in sight) and up the stairs to the relative safety of a 30-inch wide non-guard railed sidewalk over the river and back to the hostel. All told, the trip was about two and a half hours. Perfect.





While in the city center, I was guilty of eating at McDonald’s. Interesting to me was the fact that there were both smoking and non-smoking sections. Even more curious was a cubicle system set up in the middle of each. That way many people could eat alone and in relative privacy without holding up tables of two or four. It was a little odd, like sneaking food into the college library.

November 20, 2006

Hiroshima

Surprise, no rain!

I ventured out to see Hiroshima Castle today, which was rebuilt after the bombing.



The architecture of the castle was beautiful, with a towering headquarters building perched on the moat’s edge.





Unlike the predecessor which was made entirely of 16th century old growth timber, the replica was cement and rebar core covered by a traditional façade.





This construction has created an ideal multi-layered platform for a great museum explaining the history of Hiroshima from its founding in the Samurai era of the 16th century to the present. There was a thorough display of Samurai swords and armament, along with explanation of community life in support of the castle. (I couldn't help trying on the actual armour in the "Hands On" section, since there were no other tourists around. The guard just chuckled at me, as I'm sure mainly teenagers go through this effort on a regular basis.)



Also on the plate today was a visit to the A-Bomb victim’s memorial, a sunken monument to the 140,000 lost souls. One of the benefits of travel in the “off season” is the opportunity to appreciate special locations in private. I was moved, sitting in the circular hall made of 140,000 tiles. A trickling fountain in the middle of the room set a reflective tone. From the center of the room one views a panorama of the city from the hypocenter taken 2 months after. The amazing achievement is that the panorama is created entirely from small tiles. Underneath this 360-degree tile mural are the names of the neighborhoods in the blast area, with those closest to the hypocenter listed highest on the wall and those at a further distance listed below, in descending order. The entire memorial is geographically correct.



I took this picture of the "Atomic Dome" and street car in black & white for affect and to reinforce an amazing accomplishment. Only three days after the bomb was dropped, limited street car service was restored in Hiroshima.



Somewhat counter intuitively, the "Atomic Dome" survived the blast because the hypocenter was almost directly overhead. If you look carefully at the picture below, the little dark cloud above the dome happened to mark the approximate detonation point. The historical site is also flanked by a moving statuary collection.





The evening was spent eating and hanging out with Aaron, a 6’5” guy from England who had just received his David Beckham Mohawk haircut. The Japanese barber thought that it was such a thrill to shave the sides of Aaron’s head that he didn’t even charge for the service. Despite his size, stature, and potentially imposing appearance, Aaron is really a very reflective guy and great conversationalist.