세계평화의 종 - The World Peace Bell

Let's break that down:

세계 (se-geh) means "world".

평화 (pyoung-hwa) means "peace".

의 (eh) is a possessive particle.

종 (jong) means "bell".

Fulbrighters and Hwacheon Peace Forum campers at the World Peace Bell. (taken by Ammy)

The World Peace Bell, located in its namesake park in Hwacheon, was cast in 2005 for the 60th anniversary of Liberation Day (August 15th, 1945 -- the end of Japanese colonial rule). The metal in this 37.5-ton Buddhist-style bell was recycled from empty ammunition cartridges from the Korean war and various conflict-ridden regions of the world. This gives the bell a certain special significance in its symbolism of world peace.

Making wishes. Btw, this bell is huge.

During the Hwacheon Peace Forum, we visited the World Peace Bell Park and learned about the bell, the nearby Hwacheon Peace Dam, and a little bit about the hopes of those who created this park. The dream, of course, is peace, but then there's also Reunification (통일/tongil). The top of the World Peace Bell is decorated with pigeons (비둘기, which represent peace, just like doves do; it's worth mentioning that pigeons and doves are in the same bird family). However, one of the pigeons is missing half of one of its wings. The missing piece is being kept with the promise that when North and South Korea are finally reunified, it will be reattached, thus finally completing the bell.

In the style of Buddhist bells, this one is rung by being struck on the outside by a large wooden beam (a battering ram?) The beam is very heavy, and it takes many people to swing it. All of the campers got a chance to strike the bell. The sound it made was very deep and powerful. As soon as it was struck, we were supposed to gather around the bell and place our hands or backs on it to feel the resonance, as well as to make a wish. I rested the back of my head on the bell after I had rung it, and it felt like a nice massage. While I did feel to an extent that the symbolism was a bit tacky, I did learn later that it actually costs about fifty cents for tourists to ring the bell, and each year, all of that money goes toward a full scholarship for one Ethiopian university student to study abroad in Korea, as thanks toward Ethiopia for fighting alongside Korea during the Korean war. I feel much better about that.

HL and SY with an otter (수달), which I believe is Hwacheon County's mascot.

After visiting the bell and watching a short video about the Peace Dam (평화의댐), the camp participants had some time to discuss what we had learned over the past two days and share our thoughts about peace and Korean Reunification. My two student partners, HL and SY, were two bright girls who, despite being good friends, plainly disagreed on whether Reunification would be good or not.

HL, whose father is in the army, was against 통일 because she knew the risks were great: Korea would be plunged into an economic and humanitarian crisis if it suddenly had to take care of millions of refugees from the North. SY, on the other hand, was more idealistic and remained convinced that North Koreans are "our family" and that the current separation was neither tenable nor the desire of most South Koreans. We didn't have enough time to elaborate on these thoughts, but I could tell that both of them had actually thought through their positions, and I appreciated that.

Both did agree, during our discussion, that the conversation about 통일 was likely more often had in Hwacheon than in other parts of the country, due to the county's proximity to the De-Militarized Zone between the North and the South. It seems like the farther away you get from the border, the less people tend to think about the issue. I know it hardly comes up in my life, way down here in Changwon, but it's not hard to see why people who live a mere thirty kilometers away from an enemy state would be more attuned to this dialogue. So, it was no wonder that the students of the Hwacheon Peace Forum, some of whom have participated in the camp several years in a row, were capable of expressing themselves so well about a matter very important to them. I was both impressed and inspired.

That said, I don't have any grand, sweeping conclusions to make about world peace or Korean Reunification. Not yet, at least. I've learned a great deal about this issue over the past few months, and I'd like to get all my thoughts down in writing at some point, so stay tuned.

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 1: Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere

I had a fantastic time in Hwacheon last week at the world-famous Ice Fishing Festival. However, before any of that happened, I had to travel to Hwacheon, and that was a day's worth of adventure in and of itself.

Even though I was only going to be at the festival for a day, I had with me all that I would need for a month of travel, since I was going to be (or am currently) living out of a suitcase until February. My trusty gadget-backpack and my little gray suitcase and I made the four-hour bus ride up to Seoul on the 9th, where I crashed for the night with a Swattie friend (more on that later). The next day, I met up with Tracey and Ammy, two Fulbrighters, as well as Tracey's mother, for lunch, and then accompanied Ammy to a dental clinic for a check-up. The dental clinic turned out to be also a plastic surgery clinic, and while I waited in the posh, five-star-hotel-esque lobby, I glanced through pamphlets and advertisements for the dozens of procedures offered. It was weird. Then, finally, Ammy and I got on the road.

Ammy and the snow-covered train tracks. Both real trains and metro trains use these.

The Seoul Metro system is more extensive than I'd imagined. It's possible to take the turquoise line from the center of the city all the way out to Chuncheon, 45 miles northeast. This is roughly equivalent to riding the BART from San Francisco to Union City or Concord. It takes about two hours and costs less than 3,000₩ (super-cheap!). You could also take the ITX (real trains that run north-south) for a faster and more comfortable ride. Ammy and I went for the metro. It was an odd feeling, being inside a subway car, watching the sun set over a starkly rural scene: mountains, old, crumbly buildings, fields of rice.

Around 6:30pm, we arrived in Chucheon, the capital and largest city of Gangwon Province. I saw about five minutes' worth of the city before we had to hop on a bus headed even farther north (and that five minutes was spent running from the train station to the bus terminal). This bus made its way through  windy, completely darkened roads. I dozed off for a bit, and an hour later, I had absolutely no idea where we were. I checked the GPS on my phone, and it showed that we were on a road with nothing but blank white space on either side. I looked outside and saw one building. Behind it, a field. There were no lights.

Sure enough, we were in Yuchon.

A photo of Yuchon (유촌리) that I took on a different day. Let's see... 파로호느릅마을: Paroho (Lake) Elm Village. 농촌관광일번지: Rural Tourism #1 (?). And I can't figure out the right-hand post at all.

Yuchon is the name of the small village where we would be spending the night. A fellow Fulbrighter, Maggie, lives and teaches in this remote location; hers is by far the most rural placement among us. It's all farms, hills, a handful of buildings, and only one street. Fortunately for us, however, Maggie's host family rents out a dormitory (more like cabin) that they built for the seasonal farming students, and we were encouraged to stay there.

When Ammy and I arrived at Yuchon's only bus stop, we got out and found Maggie, as well as our other Fulbright friends Adam and Katelyn, waiting for us. We had dinner and then spent the rest of the evening playing Contact, eating junk food, talking about movies, and getting psyched for all the fun we were going to have at the Ice Fishing festival the next day.

Looks like college! Snacks, computers, lounging.

I'm going to end this post with a fun fact about Yuchon (and Hwacheon and this entire region in general): there are more soldiers than civilians. Yes, Gangwon Province shares a huge border with North Korea, and more than half of the DMZ is in it. Maggie says that she sees soldiers every day, and that sometimes tanks rumble slowly down the road she walks down to get to school. During the harvest season, the tanks are replaced with tractors. In any case, when real tanks aren't around, the village is still given a sense of a security with fake tanks -- made of concrete -- that overlook it from a hill. When I first passed by them, it was dark, and I didn't even realize that they were fake. But the next morning, we saw them in a new light, and it was just so absurd that we had to take a photo.

Katelyn, Ammy, and Adam with a fake tank. A fank.

That's all! In the next post: ice fishing!

Stepping into North Korea (Seoul Weekend pt. 2)

When does the weekend actually start? After work on Friday afternoon? How about 3am on Friday morning? That's when ours did. The buses arrived at 3:30am, and we boarded them in the midst (or perhaps in the mist) of heavy morning fog.

The Night Bus... its headlights illuminated quickly-moving drops of water vapor from the fog. It felt like SF.

The first thing I saw in Seoul!

Earlier -- after the talent show -- I decided to watch the second Pokémon movie with Katelyn and Jason, which was a good way to keep me awake. I then began my morning by playing some lively rounds of Contact with peers who had also decided not to sleep. Our plan was to conk out during the three-hour bus ride to Seoul. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was a very, very tall building. And then more tall buildings. And lots and lots of cars. It was much bigger than Goesan... Welcome to the Capital!

Our schedule for the day was packed. We had an official USO tour at the Demilitarized Zone, followed by a visit to the American Embassy, followed by an important briefing on our Fulbright contracts in the Fulbright office building. Even though we arrived in Seoul at six in the morning, we wouldn't be able to check into our hotel until nine in the evening.

First stop: The Demilitarized Zone. The DMZ is the border running close to the 38th parallel that separates South Korea from North Korea. The Military Demarcation Line (MDL) was established in 1953 following the end of the Korean civil war; the DMZ extends for two kilometers north and south of the MDL. It's a heavily guarded territory on both sides and is a constant reminder that there has yet to be real peace in the Korean peninsula.

Fulbright was privileged enough to gain access to a USO-led tour of the Joint Security Area, the only point along the entire DMZ where North Korean and South Korean troops actually face each other. There is a lot of complex history surrounding the JSA that I didn't quite take in, but we were able to see a lot of interesting things.

ROK soldiers standing guard at the MDL. In the background you can see a DPRK guard in his dark green uniform (the only North Korean I have ever seen).

First, there were the three ROK (Republic of Korea = South Korea) soldiers standing guard. The two blue barracks on the sides are conference rooms where peace negotiations have taken place. The gray building in the background is the North Korean "Panmungak", where North Korean tours of the JSA take place. You can see a DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea = North Korea) soldier standing in front of the door on the left. His job was, apparently, to constantly watch soldiers and visitors on the ROK side, while the ROK soldiers' job was to watch the DPRK side. It was very quiet and tense, with the exception of our American soldier tour guide, who kept cracking jokes in between his very well-rehearsed comments at each site.

I took this photo of the MDL while standing in North Korea...

We were then allowed to enter the blue barracks on the left, which was the Military Armistice Commission Conference room for peace negotiations, although meetings were suspended in 1991. The room was small and we crowded in around a large conference table to make room for everyone. When I looked out the window, I got a better look at the concrete slab that marked the MDL. I was then shocked when our tour guide informed us that those of us who had crossed to the farther side of the room had already inadvertently stepped into North Korean territory, or at least their side of the Joint Security Area.

Also inside the conference room were two ROK soldiers in uniform, standing as still as statues. I immediately felt awkward when I saw them. What must they have thought about all these weird Americans barging into such an important area with their cameras, taking photos with them and being as touristy as if they were in Paris? I was really reluctant to take a photo with the soldiers, although many other people did, so instead I took a photo of them. I felt badly for them even as I focused the camera and tried to frame a good shot.

On the left, an ROK soldier. He's wearing sunglasses and standing in a specific TKD posture to denote attention but also neutrality toward North Korea. He is also standing precisely on the line that separates ROK from DPRK. On the right, Tracey is standing in North Korean territory.

The feeling of awkwardness only increased after the tour was over. Did you know that there is a souvenir shop at the DMZ? It's run by locals who live in the South Korean freedom village within the boundaries of the DMZ. I know that they need to make a living and sometimes rice farming isn't enough, but the very existence of the souvenir shop just baffled me. You could buy North Korean currency, postcards of the DMZ, t-shirts and American camo, and also a bunch of random novelty items and traditional Korean objects like fans, masks, and hanboks. It was weird...

The JSA souvenir shop, with ETAs milling around in slight confusion.

After touring the JSA, we continued to some other spots along the DMZ that were of historical interest. However, at all of these areas, we found that the historical interest was overshadowed by purely touristy interest. One site was an infiltration tunnel created by the DPRK that the ROK discovered in 1978. We donned hard hats and walked 73 meters (240 ft) underground to walk through a tiny, wet tunnel and see... a wall. A wall that separated the North Korean side of the tunnel from the South Korea side. It wasn't much, but it was interesting. You could even see the drill holes for dynamite and remnants of the coal powder that the DPRK sprayed all over when they made the excuse that the tunnel was for coal mining.

Still, what struck me most was how the site was just as crowded at the mountain hiking park I'd visited a few weeks ago. There were tons of tourists waiting in line just to walk down to see a wall, and also get a nice thirty-minute workout in the meantime. (The tunnel was actually pretty steep, so it really was like an actual hike...) It was a total tourist trap.

Who wants a photo with a happy ROK soldier? I did, I guess. (taken by Ammy)

They even had these little statues of ROK soldiers. Is this ridiculous, or what? I was just incredulous that the Korean tourist industry would actually make the DMZ into any other tourist trap. I could only ask, "Why?" I mean, it's important that the Korean government keep the memory and knowledge of the events of the Korean war alive, especially for younger generations of Koreans who have grown up mostly unaware of how far their nation has come in sixty years. But the signs, the souvenirs, the overwhelming number of giant tour buses, and even small things like the fifty-cent fare for looking at North Korea through big binoculars from the top of a hill... it all seemed very contrived, and I didn't know what to make of it.

Left: Ben, Jaeyeon, Bridget, Taxi, Jessica, and Susie at the DMZ. I really like this cute group photo, but why is the giant Hollywood-esque sign there in the first place? It's just odd. Right top: We visited a train station that runs only twice a day. It used to connect cities in South Korea to cities in North Korea, but the tracks that cross the MDL are now blocked. Still, the direction is toward Pyeongyang (the capital of North Korea), and from there the railroad continues to Russia and beyond. Because of the DMZ, the southern half of the Korean peninsula is isolated from the rest of continental Asia and Europe. Right bottom: Binoculars to look across the border and into the closest North Korean city, Kaesong.

In conclusion, although I enjoyed visiting the points of interest around the DMZ and got a chance to see things that many people will never see, overall I thought that the commercialization of the tourist sites was a shade inappropriate. We were learning some very important things about Korean history and its current political situation, but it also never felt as solemn as I had expected. I was intrigued and uncomfortable at the same time. And because the DMZ sites are not just mementos of history but technically still a war zone, traipsing around on a tour of a highly dangerous territory also felt absolutely surreal.

Unfortunately, we didn't have much time to process everything that we'd taken in that morning. After a quick lunch, we had only an hour-long bus ride before we were back in Seoul in the afternoon. Everyone was exhausted from having been up all night and we just conked out, and next on our itinerary was a meet and greet with the American ambassador at the U.S. Embassy.