6.24.2005 – Panmunjom, DMZ, Korea

I was just standing in North Korea. There’s a pretty scary thought! I’m in the Joint Security Area (JSA) in the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea—what is often called the most dangerous place in the world (although at the moment I’ll take being here over being in Iraq, as we were told most of the American troops stationed here would).

I just set foot in North Korea, although only technically. Inside the truce/negotiating room at Panmunjom one can walk to the north side of the room, the other side of the table, which straddles the Military Demarcation Line (MDL—everything here seems to have an acronym; in plain English, it’s the border) and so be in North Korea.

On the bus en route to the DMZ, I read in the International Herald-Tribune that it has just been revealed that North Korean leader Kim Jil-il had sent a message to George W. Bush in 2002 offering to stop North Korea’s nuclear program in exchange for assurances that the United States would recognize North Korea’s sovereignty. The State Department was interested in pursuing the opening, but Bush, with his characteristic pseudo-macho stupidity, brushed it aside. Has any president ever made more momentous mistakes?

The whole experience in the DMZ was bizarre. People signing up for the tour had been told ahead of time that certain types of clothing would not be acceptable: sandals, jeans, miniskirts. I was reminded of the “Christian” preacher in Mississippi who many years ago assured his congregation that “there are no mini-skirts in Heaven!” None in North Korea, either, I’ll bet—but, whatever West Virginia’s qualifications, I don’t think North Korea could be classified as “almost Heaven.”

They didn’t say when people signed up for the DMZ trip that collarless shirts were also unacceptable. I happened to be wearing the only collarless shirt I have with me. Several other people on the tour were also without collars. Always at the ready for any emergency or eventuality, the U.S. military provided us with collared shirts to put on over what we were wearing. I was given a too-small, red plaid, short-sleeve shirt to wear, unbuttoned, over my long-sleeve black knit shirt. The rule sheet we were given says: “Visitors will be dressed in appropriate civilian attire so as to maintain the dignity of the United Nations Command.” Somehow, I don’t have the impression that my combined outfit added much to the UN’s dignity.

We had to sign a waiver acknowledging that, “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.” The sheet of rules also instructed: ”Visitors will not point, make gestures, or expressions which could be used by the North Korean side as propaganda against the United Nations Command.”

Our tour guide kept reiterating, “No pointing; no waving.” While we were at the Military Demarcation Line, several people in our group pointed toward the North Korean side (I wasn’t one of them)—it comes naturally when you are showing someone something. From the observation tower, we could only see only one North Korean soldier standing in front of the largest building on their side. I got someone to take my picture with North Korea just behind me. I knew that I was standing in the shade with a bright background and the photo would turn out better if I put on the fill-in flash. But I decided that a flash going off in the direction of North Korean soldiers might not be the best of ideas, so I left it off.

The weirdest thing at the border was ROK soldiers who stand like statues, heads leaning forward, arms curved inward and hands above their sidearms on both sides. This stance is apparently meant to intimidate the North Koreans, but it just seems silly. After all, the North Koreans could just open up on them with automatic weapons, regardless of how intimidating they look.

The best story we were told was about how the North and South Koreans had kept building higher and higher flagpoles in their villages in the JSA (known in the South as ”Freedom Village” while the North’s village is called by the South “Propaganda Village.” This was obviously a classic phallic contest (flagpole envy): my flagpole is bigger than your flagpole! South Korea finally gave up when the North built a flagpole160 meters high, the tallest in the world. We could see it in the distance.

The South Korean flag prominently features a yin-yang symbol in the center. Significantly, it is a vertical arrangement, with the yang (male) above the yin (female). It struck me in thinking about the amazing contrast between free, commercial, capitalist, consumer-oriented, Americanized Seoul and the world’s most oppressive regime 30 miles away that this in itself is a kind of yin-yang relationship. And the North Koreans are trying very hard to be the yang to the South’s yin, as their tall flagpole and their missiles and nuclear weapons development all indicate.

The DMZ is a strange place. We rode through small openings in thick walls that we were told are filled with dynamite. Then we were told that landmines are all over, just beyond the rice paddies on both sides of the road. In most of the DMZ, no human has set foot in a half century and so the 4 km band that snakes across the peninsula has become an unintentional nature preserve. Rare cranes can be seen from the road. The guide explained that, unfortunately, sometimes a deer or other animal sets off a landmine.

The guide also told the group about what they call the ax murder, when the North Koreans attacked UN forces who went into the no-man’s land to cut down a tree. Someone in our group asked him if the North Koreans attacked because they were angry that the tree was being cut down. I could be wrong, but the North Koreans don’t strike me as tree-huggers.

Before we entered the DMZ, we stopped for lunch at a traditional Korean restaurant, where you leave your shoes at the door and sit on the floor at a low table. The food was plentiful and very good—and eaten with metal chopsticks. When going to the restroom, you find a couple of pairs of slipper-sandals at the door to use while inside the restroom. I don’t imagine that the use of slippers was particularly needed in the women’s room, but it certainly was in the men’s, where the floor was very wet with stuff I wouldn’t want soaking into my socks. The slippers at the entrance to the men’s room were pink and way too small for my feet, but I was grateful to have them.

Finally, I have to comment on our tour guide, who was straight out of Kindergarten Cop. OK, I’ve never seen the movie, but what I imagine. He repeated instructions dozens of times, He kept telling us how everybody needed to use the bathroom at each stop, because there wouldn’t be another stop for an hour or whatever. He tried to get us to walk in two rows, but we proved to be recalcitrant. But he did tell us many interesting things.

The DMZ trip is an experience I wouldn’t want to have missed. And we were there on the day before the 55th anniversary of the North Korean invasion.

RSM