Holiday in the DMZ

The Korean Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) has a long and tormented history. You can read about that somewhere else.

What I can tell you about is how I got up one Saturday morning at four-thirty to catch a subway and three buses to view the area first-hand. The guide spoke English, but barely, and it was difficult to hear him over the groan of the engine. I got some of it, however. I think he said something like this:

“Good morning, everyone. Where are you from, sir? Ha ha ha, I don’t really care, but I know you’re not from South Korea. You know how I know? Because Koreans aren’t allowed on this tour. By the way, everyone looks lovely in their collared shirts and corduroys. I’m glad you’ve all adhered to our dress code, especially the ladies. We wouldn’t want to arouse any undue excitement in our North Korean counterparts. This is an area where a high skirt or a low neckline could put us into DEFCON 4.

“Here we are now. Everyone off the bus for a piss and a cigarette. Feel comfortable to take a photo of this gorgeous vista. A view that normally stretches thirty kilometers into North Korea but the fog today only permits us to see just beyond that tree-line where if you look closely you can see a North Korean soldier scratching his nuts but you better get on the bus again because we now have to drive you to the cafeteria and feed you cold spaghetti and borscht for nine dollars a plate, US dollars preferred, thank you.

“The place you’re in now, it’s called Panmunjeom. ‘Truce village’.
The Joint Security Area (JSA).

“Half the JSA is in North Korea and the other half South Korea. Don’t take photos of, look at, make hand signals, or attempt to communicate in any way with the North Korean soldiers. You can do all of the above to the South Korean soldiers, but they won’t respond. They’re watching miniature episodes of Mash on the inside of those sunglasses.” Which also explains why they never smile.

“Step over here. You are now standing in North Korea. Step back. Welcome back to the Free World. A Russian tried to defect across this line in 1984 and four people died in the firefight that ensued. Turn around. See that - off in the distance? That’s Propaganda Village, where for 24 hours a day and seven days a week, The Golden Leader, Kim Jong Il reads his favourite Martha Stewart recipes. Some of them are not bad. They serve the Braised Capon with Pearl Onions in the mess at Fort Bonniface.

“And there, jutting out of Propaganda Village - that’s the world’s largest flag. With a length of 90 meters and a dry weight of 600 pounds it acts as a symbol for the freedom and prosperity that North Koreans enjoy when they’re not starving or killing Japanese hostages.

“Back on the bus. Okay, let’s switch buses once more. Get comfortable. Okay, just kidding, get off again. Next bus, please.

“We estimate the North Koreans dug no less than thirty tunnels under the DMZ in preparation for an attack on Seoul. We found four of them and turned them into amusement parks. We’re not kidding, put on that hard-hat and get on the
roller-car, we’re about to dive 300 meters below ground and hike another 300 on foot just to show you our entrepreneurial spirit. Hup! - watch your head. If this reminds you of the time you were four-years-old and freaked out on the Pirates of the Carribean ride in Anneheim then we’re doing our job right. We even have plans for mannequins in North Korean uniforms to catapult out of the shadows screaming bloody murder. All this will be set to a custom mix of Wagner and Kim Il Sung. Waygooks will be shitting themselves. Money back if they don’t.

“Okay, tour’s over. Please take fifteen minutes to browse the gift shop on your left. Four more buses, one subway, and you’ll be safe and snug on your couch watching Korean soaps and all this will be a distant memory. And though you’ll only be 27km from this, the world’s most heavily armed border and only living military relic of the Cold War, we swear you might as well be in Moosejaw for all it matters to you.”