travelogues - andy coates, south korea

 

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A YEAR IN SOUTH KOREA - CARRUTHERS

SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

At the start of December Carruthers flew out to South Korea to start a one year contract teaching English, these are a selection of emails conveying his experiences.

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Tuesday 16th September

I bloody KNEW I had a good reason for thinking children were revolting! I was right! I make it through the entireity of my school life, and the 12 subsequent years with no problem. Then what do I discover has happened to me today?.........

I've got sodding head lice!!!!!!! Words can't describe how revolting this is. I am not happy. Bloody spawn and their bloody filthy head conditions!! It's vile!!!!

Monday 29th September

I have just arranged a little outing for myself to the 'Joint Security Area', slap bang in the middle of the Demilitarized Zone, marking the frontier of the most heavily fortified border on the face of the planet. I shall be getting within a stone's throw (although I think that's prohibited) of North Korean soldiers, who apparently stand ever ready to defeat the forces of democracy, by assuming permanent TaeKwondo stances (this I have to see). They also only show half of themselves, concealing the rest behind the nearest convenient building. If all goes according to plan, I shall even be entering N Korea (albeit about two feet inside the border, and no passport stamp unfortunately). Ah well, I do get to see 'The most dangerous Golf Course in the World'. The countdown to oblivion has begun.

Wednesday October 1st

Three remarkable things have happened today, neither of which have happened since sometime in early March.
1)My breath was steaming.
2)I shivered.
3)I am wearing a shirt AND a T-shirt.

I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be chilly.

Sunday October 5th

Well, the last public holiday/long weekend I will see in Korea is nearly at an end. It's been a good one though. On Thursday I went into Seoul after school to meet a Korean friend. We had a few drinks in the park in Hongdae, which is my favourite part of the city. It's a University area, full of atmosphere and groovy people. Indeed it's the only part of Seoul where you're likely to find 'alternative' Koreans. Rather than the 1950s catalogue fashion that is shockingly common everywhere else, in Hongdae you can find dreadlocks, bandanas, purple hair, punks, hippies and the like. Having got back to Uijeongbu at about 1am, I met up with the teachers from school, and eventually got home some time on Friday morning.

Then on Saturday I went into Seoul again, in order to pay for next weekend's trip with the US Army to the Demilitarized Zone. Having found the appropriate place, I attempted to affect the air of someone who has every right to stroll onto a military installation, and sauntered casually past the armed guards. Clearly they didn't mind. Afterwards, I ventured to the nearby Yongsan Electronics Market, to buy a camera battery. It puts Dixon's to shame. 5000 shops in 21 buildings - every item of electronic equipment, components, tools, gadgets and accessories you could possibly imagine. All of this choice does make finding one particular thing rather tricky however, and I trawled aisle upon aisle of computers, mobile phones, TVs, car stereos, MP3 players and the like, before eventually finding somewhere that sold cameras.

It was a beautiful day, and I decided to go to Hongdae again. In the park a big craft market was on. Cool people everywhere, a great atmosphere, sunshine, blue sky, a stage over the way with bands playing. There were artists, pottery workshops, glass blowing and various other things present. I spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon taking photos, wandering around and meeting random Korean people. As evening approached I was accosted by a plastered American bloke called Steve, who I had earlier observed dancing around topless to his personal stereo...a bottle of Soju in his hand. His sad and sorry state was rather amusing, although his conversation was less than sparkling. Later I ran into Su Jin, one of the Korean girls I met a few weeks ago, during the incident with the two English Goths and the paralytic Korean teenager. I had a few drinks with her and her friends, one of whom did a portrait of me in my diary. It took about ten minutes, and I was really impressed.
I was also impressed when I heard the strains of Banco De Gaia drifting across from the DJ!
Afterwards I went to Sinchon, and a bar called Woodstock. I met a fair few funky people, including a mad American called Chris. He, his Korean friend and I ended up going to a Salsa club. I don't recall why. By this point I'd missed the subway, so grabbed a few hours sleep in a DVD room, before eventually getting home about 8am.

After all this merriment, I face the prospect of ten classes tomorrow - cos one of the teachers is away. Still, I'm taking the Kinderarten kids to the zoo on Thursday, so no classes at all.

Saturday 11th October

So, the DMZ. I don't really know where to start. I'd envisaged writing a jovial email in which I jumped up and down and shouted, "I've been to North Korea!!", but after the day's experience that doesn't really seem appropriate. I'd expected the massive military infrastructure along the frontier of the Demilitarized Zone itself, but I wasn't prepared for just how far it extended outside that area. Nor was I prepared for how sharply it would be brought into focus that Korea is a country still at war.......with itself. I suppose I'll start at the beginning.

About fifteen minute's drive North of Seoul, the razor wire starts. Seoul's main river, the Han, joins up with a smaller river, the Imjin, that flows from the North. The banks must therefore be fortified in case North Korea decides to use the waterway as a means to enter the capital. It is through this barricade that we get our first glimpse of North Korea on the opposite bank. It takes the form of a series of rugged hills, completely stripped bare of trees. During the Japanese occupation, the whole of Korea was stripped of timber. The South, as it came to be, could afford to replant. The North couldn't. Anything that grows there now is quickly felled for firewood or fuel. As we approach the bridge over the Imjin, we come to our first military checkpoint. A S.Korean soldier boards the bus and checks everyone's ID. Photography is prohibited. To access the bridge itself, we must pass through an anti-tank blockade. The bridge is then lined on both sides by the same steel fence, crowned with razor wire, and is peppered with (presently dormant) roadblocks and other anti-tank devices. A mile or so further on, along a road bearing the same razor wire fortifications that are rapidly becoming ubiquitous, we reach Camp Bonifas, the US Army outpost on the edge of the DMZ itself. Their motto is ' In Front of Them All.' It may be cocky, but in this instance it's also true. We park up and transfer to a United Nations bus. Our US army guide informs us that we may photograph anything on the base except the bunkers and trench systems. It is rapidly becoming clear that comparatively safe as it might be, this is a war zone. Inside the base we are given the 'Visitor's Declaration', which we must all sign. I quote:

"The visit to the Joint Security Area at Panmunjom will entail entry into a hostile area and possibility of injury or death as a direct result of enemy action. Guests of the United Nations Command are not permitted to cross the Military Demarcation Line into the portion of the Joint Security Area under control of the Korean People's Army. Although incidents are not anticipated, the United Nations Command, the United States of America, and the Republic of Korea cannot guarantee the safety of visitors and may not be held accountable in the event of a hostile enemy act......

........Fraternization, including speaking or any association with personnel from the Korean People's Army/Chinese People's Volunteers (KPA/CPV) side is strictly prohibited......

........Visitors will not point, make gestures or expressions which could be used by the North Korean side as propaganda against the United Nations Command.......

........The area and buildings under the military control of the communist side will not be entered for any reason. Permission of the guide must be obtained prior to entry to any of the UNC buildings in the JSA."

There then follows a slide presentation, during which we are given a history of the DMZ and the JSA including some of the incidents that have occured therein. One of them in particular is worth mentioning. In 1976, the JSA was a little different than it is today. Then, there were no restrictions on where in the area either side could have positions (in terms of north or south of the border). The N Koreans quickly responded to this by erecting three positions at the very southernmost extreme, thereby completely triangulating a US checkpoint. To make matters worse for the unfortunate individuals stationed within it, a large Poplar tree obscured them from the nearest other US position. The UNC therefore decided to fell it. Within minutes of the work detail commencing their job, they were attacked by 28 N Korean soldiers. In what came to be known as 'The Axe Murders Incident', three US soldiers were hacked to death. After a change in the regulations, so that the North could only have positions north of the border (or 'Military Demarcation Line' as it is referred to throughout the day) and vice-versa, there followed what must surely be the most expensive tree felling operation ever carried out. To ensure that no northern interference re-occured, thousands of troops, vehicles, artillery, and even a warship were assembled. It cost $4 Million to cut down one tree.

After the talk, we proceed to where (if the disposition of our guide is anything to go by) it gets serious - entering the DMZ itself. En route we pass Camp Bonifas' one hole golf course, which claims to be 'The Most Dangerous Golf Course in the World'. To be fair, I suppose you probably would have to look quite hard to find another one that was surrounded on three sides by minefields.
The DMZ extends 2km from the border on either side. To enter the Southern edge of the DMZ, we pass through four layers of fortification. First is a razor wire fence, which extends the entire width of the country. Next is an anti tank blockade, which extends the entire length of the country. This is followed by a minefield, and then another razor wire fence, which extends..........you get the idea. When we reach the Joint Security Area, we disembark, and proceed on foot. Our first destination is the MAC (Military Armistice Commission) Building. This is where all the peace talks held over the last fifty years have yielded spectacularly little success. At the centre of the room is a conference table. The microphones on it are monitered 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year. We are informed that those of us on the far side of the table from the door through which we entered are now standing in North Korea. I am. With us in the room are two Republic of Korea soldiers, standing in a TaeKwon Do stance ( to be more threatening to the other side apparently) Outside, the other ROC soldiers stand facing the North, half hidden behind the edges of buildings (to present a smaller target). It's all quite surreal. We are told of the petty extremes to which this stand-off has sunk. On the conference table is a small flag. Originally, when the UNC took a flag in, the N Koreans responded by bringing in a bigger one. The UNC's got bigger. The North's got bigger. The UNC's got bigger. The North's got bigger. This continued until neither flag could actually fit into the room. A meeting of the two sides was held specifically and solely to agree on a size limit to the table flags. Then there's the two main buildings in the JSA. The one in the North was bult first. The Southern one was then constructed, and was higher than the Northern one. The North built another storey on theirs so that it would be taller. Outside, we are informed that we are under constant surveillance by the N Koreans. No-one must do anything provocative. As we proceed back indoors, our guide tells us that we may not stop to take photos, we must keep moving until we are safely back indoors. Some people at the back of the group stop. Our guide shouts, "Keep moving Goddamnit!! How hard is it??!! Is it hard??!! This is for your own safety!" I suppose he doesn't want dead civilians on his tour.

Next we proceed to Checkpoint Bravo, from where we can get a good view across into North Korea. We can see the three storey loudspeaker which broadcasts propaganda for ten to twelve hours a day (usually throughout the night). Our guide informs us that this can be quite irritating if you're trying to sleep. We can see the propaganda signs above the treeline, which proclaim 'Yankees Go Home!', and 'Our General leads us to glory.', and my favourite, 'Another glorious victory for our 21st century sunshine leader Kim Jung-Il...Hoorah!' We can see the jamming antenna that ensures the N Korean people recieve no TV or radio signals from the outside world. They get what they're given and nothing else. Most of all though we can see the two villages which exist inside the DMZ. One is in the North, and one in the South. The South is Daeseongdong (Great Success Village, although the Americans call it Freedom Village). It's residents get mixed blessings. On the upside, they are essentially autonomous. They're exempt from Korean taxation, and military service. The S Korean Govt subsidises their housing, and they farm generally speaking, an area about four times as large as the average South Korean, meaning that they are substantially better off. Conversely, they have to remain in the village for eight months of the year if they wish to retain citizenship. Moreover, they have to be back in the village by nightfall, and inside their homes with doors and windows secured by 11.30pm. A 100ft flagpole bearing the S Korean flag stands in the village. The Northern counterpart is Gijongdong (Called by the Americans, Propaganda Village). It's residents..........don't exist. The whole place is deserted. Our guide tells us that they know this because when the lights come on at night, they all come on at the same time, and then go out all at the same time every morning. A 160ft flagpole (the tallest in the world) bearing a 30 x 20m North Korean flag weighing 600Ibs (the largest in the world) stands in Gijongdong.

After this we leave the DMZ, and go to the 'Third Tunnel of Aggression', one of five so far discovered tunnels dug by the North, under the DMZ, into South Korea. This one was discovered in the 1970's.
It was 76m underground, 2km long, and blasted through solid granite. We walk along it until the first blockade, only 150m from the border above our heads. If it had been finished, the North could have sent 10,000 soldiers through it in one hour. It's theorised that there may be as many as ten other tunnels as yet undiiscovered. From here we take a winding road, flanked on both sides by minefields, up to a hilltop observation post. Our vantage affords us views of North Korea's second largest city, Kaesong. Gazing through the telescope at the silent buldings of the city, it's hard to imagine what life must be like there. It's barely 10 km away, and yet a different world entirely. We can also see a N Korean work party, labouring to complete their stretch of the Reunification Railway, which will one day reconnect Seoul to Pyeongyang. The Southern side, our guide says, is already finished, but the N Koreans have no heavy machinery, and are working with their bare hands. One of our group, whose nationality I shall not divulge, and who is obviously taking our Korean guide's English far too literally, queries, "They have shovels though, right?" Dear God!

The time has come to head back to Seoul. It's been a day of mixed experiences. There was the surrealism, the petty propaganda, the brutal reality of a war zone, but above all the overriding sense of the immense human sadness this whole sorry situation has caused and continues to cause on a daily basis. Families have been divided. Individuals cannot know whether their loved ones are alive or dead. After a fifty year ceasefire, the Korean war is still not officially over.

The only real piece of propaganda on the Southern side, is a big sign, pointing north, which says "One People, One Nation." If only it were that simple.

Friday 24th October

First off, my wait at the bus stop this morning was enlivened by a full on fist fight between two disgruntled motorists. Only the intervention of about four passers-by succeeded in separating them. How strange it is to live in a country where you can stand at a bus stop in the morning and witness a needless fist fight, then stand at the same bus stop in the afternoon and be politely greeted by three Buddhist monks.....

Then, when I was in the bank just now sending money home (I have a long break today and am thus at home for an hour or so before returning to school) the guy who always deals with me (largely I think because he is the only man in the building who speaks any English whatsoever) first gave me a cup of coffee while I waited, then put my transaction through at an artificially low exchange rate, then gave me a discount on the handling fee, then to top it all off, said, "Do you like beer?". A little unsure of what this had to do with my transfer, I replied, "Yes.". "I would like to meet with you for drinking." Now it becomes clear. "Ok.".......the result is that I'm meeting him in the local at 7.30 tonight. Now THAT never happened in HSBC!!

Everytime you get a little bored of this country it manages to do something odd and surprising. Only in Korea.

Tuesday 28th October

Thought I'd just report in (because obviously I don't get in touch very often!) about my recent escapades. Having spent some not inconsiderable time being on a bit of a downer with Korea and generally wishing the remaining time to pass as quickly as possible (a very bad case of restlessness and itchy feet) I am pleased to report that I have managed to buck up my ideas. It occurred to me last weekend that I only have another six useable weekends in this country, and that I should make the most of them, thereby doing groovy things and avoiding the 'sit in the apartment twiddling my thumbs' scenario.

So, on Saturday I went to Seoul and spent the day at Gyeongbuk Palace - a 12th century complex of pavillions, ornamental gardens, pagodas and other such oriental delights, which has somehow survived a number of (predominantly Japanese) attempts to raze it to the ground, demolish it, or otherwise wipe it off the face of the Earth. It was a fantastic afternoon, made all the better by the beautiful colours of the Korean autumn. It succeeded in rekindling the feeling of actually 'travelling' which dissipates all too easily after nearly 11 months of daily life here. Actually, as an aside, the itchy feet syndrome I have discovered, is far worse when you get it and are already somewhere other than your homeland. In England it's just about possible (if you're lucky) to take your mind off it by concentrating on the familiar. However, here I am constantly bombarded by things that remind me of travelling (hearing another language everywhere, seeing signs in Korean, smelling odd food and so on) and yet have become familiar enough not to be exotic anymore. It's therefore almost impossible not to think about wandering. Not helpful when your feet are already as itchy as a coarse woolen jumper impregnated with asbestos.

Anyway - I digress. After the palace I was on my way to the station, when three Koreans approached me and one of them said, "Excuse me, will you help me to investigate your reaction when I read you a small book?" 'God Squad', I thought immediately. However, I was feeling tolerant, and it was such an original opening gambit, that I decided to give him a chance. He proceeded to take out a small publication, thankfully more of a pamphlet than a book. My suspicions were confirmed by the title - 'The Four Spiritual Laws.' I sighed inwardly, but allowed him to proceed. It would at least I decided allow me a few minutes to formulate a polite way of breaking it to him in pidgin English that I follow a different kind of spiritual philosophy not subscribing to the existance of a sentient deity as such but more a delocalised energy, and that I am more governed by the desire to achieve happiness in the here and now than by the idea of living my life so as to be rewarded 'post mortem' so to speak. I hoped he would read slowly.
I think I did a good job of appearing to listen intently, and everything went according to his plan until he got to the bit about leading either a 'Christ Directed Life' or a 'Self Directed Life'. I sensed that the tide of spiritual admission was advancing inexorably towards me. "So, which one of these types of life applies to you?" he asked. I gave the obvious answer. "Oh. Well which one would you LIKE to have apply to you?" Same again. "Really??" "Absolutely." "You don't believe in God?" "No." "Why?" And so it began. I think after about ten minutes of explanation, during which he and his counterparts conferred over some of the trickier concepts, he began to understand. Nonetheless, no good Christian will go down without a fight, and he proceeded in a valiant attempt to instruct me in the ways by which I could invite Christ into my life and talk to God. I stopped him just as he was about to read a frighteningly long and convoluted prayer for that very purpose. "I'm sorry - I can't talk to God, because I don't believe in him." He was about to try again, when one of his companions lay their hand on his shoulder and said something in Korean which I can only assume approximated to, "Give up, I don't think we're going to see this one in Church tomorrow." They wished me well, and began to depart. The would-be shepherd wasn't going to leave without having the last word however, and as he was dragged away he exclaimed, "I think one day you will believe in God!" Charity overtook me, and I thought it would do no harm to offer the poor sod some remote hope to hold on to. "Well possibly." I offered. He seemed happier.

Next day I headed up Dobongsan again. It was incredibly beautiful, bedecked in a thousand shades of red, yellow, gold, and green. Autumn here is really something to behold. Unfortunately, what seemed like about half the population of the country also felt that way, and thus the mountain was heaving with ludicrously over equipped Korean hikers. It was only near the top that the crowds began to peter out. The descent was made all the more enjoyable by a strange phenomenon - the unspoken race. Being that the paths are for the most part crammed with people, those who do not wish to descend at the rate of an arthritic snail, find speedier routes, often rock hopping and veering from the paths in an effort to bypass the masses. Although nothing is said, and indeed not even a glance is exchanged, it becomes immediately clear that all those engaged in this more velocitous approach are in silent competition with eachother. I am happy to say that I did the side proud, coming in ahead of most of my immediate rivals, I suspect by the expediant of having legs about twice as long as theirs. Fun fun fun.

Presently, I am enjoying one of the perks of teacherhood. As you are no doubt aware, it is Halloween on Friday. We are holding a party for the littlest of the sproglets, involving costumes, masks, apple bobbing and trick or treating to their parent's homes ( a sure bet for treats. I don't think the Korean's could stomach the idea of having to do something cheeky to a complete stranger who refused!). I, in my apparent capacity as school artist (did I mention the enormous canvas I had to paint for the speech contest?) have been commissioned to produce assorted images of ghosts, ghouls, witches and monsters. It's all good childish fun. A bottle of red is helping the creative process no end. Speaking of which, I should get on - my witch is in desperate need of a head. I think a decapitated servant of the dark arts would be a bridge too far.

Until later,

Enjoy, be happy, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! Muuuhhaaaahahaaahhaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

 

More to come soon



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