Observing the DMZ

As a part of my study abroad semester in Seoul, South Korea, I visited the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone). Although some people have been there before, I wanted to share my experiences for those who have not, considering the current significance it holds in world politics.

Once we arrived in Camp Bonifas we were under strict supervision by United Nations Command Security Battalion and South Korean military personnel. As he climbed into our bus, we were greeted by a 20-year-old American soldier from Georgia, who'd rather have been hunting terrorists than giving another tour.

Still, his orders about our behavior were strict and clear and his tour was informative—especially considering his first-hand involvement in the recent defection by a KPA soldier. Interestingly, I also met a South Korean soldier who, unlike the American, felt lucky to be serving his mandatory 21-month military service at the border. They were obviously compelled by different interests.

It really is a place like no other I've ever been to. The drive up from Seoul is fairly normal—less than an hour by well-maintained highway—but there is war-related infrastructure scattered along the route in preparation for the unlikely event of a North Korean ground invasion (i.e. concrete structures over the highway that would be blown up as the North Korean army advanced), military outposts, and fortifications along the Han river.

On the drive from Camp Bonifas to the Joint Security Area, I could only photograph specific things. The same would apply at the JSA. There are several noteworthy things there that I wasn’t allowed to photograph: Korean soldiers playing soccer, the World’s Most Dangerous Golf Course (ESPN deemed it so for the thousands of landmines surrounding it), and several places of historical significance.

The one-lane road from the base winds idly through overgrown shrubbery and trees, rice paddies, and exotic wildlife before pulling up to the Freedom House. Most of the landscape has been neglected since the establishment of the DMZ, except for the rice paddies cared for by the inhabitants of the only nearby town. The scene doesn’t make for a particularly heartening winter landscape.

When I stepped out in front of the S. Korean building, the Freedom House, into the JSA, the setting was particularly tense. The steps were 300 meters from North Korean machine guns and we were given incredibly strict instructions from the US soldier: no pointing, no gestures, no shouting--when I saw North Korean soldiers watching from the other side, I understood why. It seemed risky to bring 60 college students to the edge of the democratic world to gape at the world’s fourth largest army.

After visiting the iconic blue building used for armistice talks, we went up to an observatory that has kilometers of visibility into North Korea and stunning panoramic views of the mountains in the region. It's beautiful and the peaks stretch for miles on end, with a small town nestled in the valley below.

The town, Kijŏng-dong, lies at the end of the single highway connecting the two countries (used for supply transferal, etc.), which winds slowly through bunker-laden foothills. It's quite a small town but looks normal from afar. Sounds nice, right?

Except that the entire time, eerie North Korean propaganda music is being blasted. It sounds like it's being played on the observation deck but is actually coming from an absolutely enormous sound system in the town... and it never stops. Above Kijŏng-dong stands an enormous flag tower with one of the world’s largest flags proudly displaying the hammer and sickle.

Oh, and the town, nicknamed Propaganda Village, is entirely abandoned but was designed to entice people to defect to the north and is only used to temporarily housing KPA troops, or so we were told. I recently found further reference to this town in a book called Unruly Places by Geography professor Alastair Bonnett, who discussed its presence under the category: Dead Cities.

Accurate, unbiased information is tough to come by as it pertains to North Korea: everybody has an agenda. There is a strong sense of ‘othering’, especially from the Americans involved, and it is challenging to form a well-founded understanding of both sides as a tourist. It still seems slightly absurd to have been a ‘tourist’ to the edge of such a volatile and tumultuous relationship.

Equally strange is the DMZ’s proximity to one of the most impressive cities I've ever seen: Seoul. Just miles south of the world’s most heavily militarized border (and obviously misleadingly termed the ‘DMZ’), the city of 25 million is caught between outstanding economic growth and a fairly recent democratization, and the issue of reunification that remains unsolved.

The city of Seoul is inconveniently close enough to the border that North Korea could demolish much of the city before being stopped, thanks to their supply of artillery near the border. It’s odd to feel like you’re simultaneously in a war zone and a science fiction film.