War and Peace (#9)

 The pendulum swings back and forth, doesn't it?

The accelerated economic growth of South Korea only since 1987 make this country a wonder.  A child struggling through the early years, only to blossom quickly when reaching adolescence.  Akward and shy, only to surprise its parents with its talents.  "Wow, I didn't know you had it in you," they would say, with slight shame that they didn't believe it was possible.  

A reddening of the cheeks.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.  And so for every "wonder" of Korea, I also find the effects of this growth that are jointly discomforting.  That means I too have leapt upon the pendulum, with it my feelings, my brain, my heart.

For every burst of energy, I feel a tired slump.

For every gut-wrenching feeling of love, I feel the dull ache of fear.

For every bite of kimchi, I fantasize about organic peanut butter under $7.00.

This entry is called "War and Peace" because that's really what it is about.

I had vacation, and instead of spending it on a beach slumbering, I visited the DMZ and did a temple stay.

The first step of the tour was crawling through the 3rd infiltration tunnel.  We had helmets on and the tour guide was insistent that "we don't do if we feel like we are going to die in there."  

I didn't feel that way.  I felt extraordinarily safe.

The fascinating part about the tunnel was its outside marketing.  The whole area looked to me like the DMZ had gone K-Pop.  The emphasis in this area was really on making the biggest cash flow for the international tragedy during which many lives were lost.

I spent my time taking pictures of other people taking pictures.

Below is an instant of someone catching on to my scheme and casting me a friendly glare.

Here is an adorable Korean couple.  Don't they just look cute enough to eat?

They were fawned over constantly by tourists.  

Everyone wanted a selfie.

They must have a great relationship.

The more hopeful part of the tour took us to the Dorasan station.  

This station has been built as part of the Korail system and is intended to be a way to get from Seoul to Pyonyang once unification finally occurs.  Right now, it is just a phantom station with no customers.  

A ghost station waiting for peace.  

I find it inspiring that it was built in the attempt to at least hasten the unification process with attitude.  This is an example of working backwards to accomplish the original goal.

So I bought a ticket to North Korea.

But I won't be able to use it for a while.  I'm just so busy with work.

Once Dorasan station is open, you will be able to travel from Seoul to Berlin in two weeks using the Trans Eurasisan Railway.  There are two routes available; one takes you through Siberia and the other through Mongolia.

You choose.

Here I am, standing at the station in a place where you can see North Korea.  

The country begins right across the barricade.  Same land, same air, and completely inaccessible.

I found myself constantly hoping that the reason for partition was worth it for both sides because there are really good things on this earth... like love, peace, wine, and chocolate.  

Perhaps an oversimplified perspective, but that is how I see the world, through its most basic sense.  

The stomach.

The last part of the tour took us on a viewing of the North Korean landscape.  We actually entered into the DMZ via Camp Bonifas and explored the Joint Security Area.  The JSA is the only portion of the DMZ where the North and South Korean soldiers stand face-to-face.  

The tourists found the South Korean soldiers fascinating.  

I just kept on thinking of them as people who had to stand on their feet in taekwondo posture until we left the building.  

For that reason, I was eager to leave so that those buddies could relax.

The JSA itself is also chockful of little villages occupied by citizens who are allowed to live there because of their previous residency.  These residents have a strict curfew and a slew of specific laws they need to abide by.  In exchange, they are granted the freedom to live there, a nice salary, and a life governed by a taste of fear.

My trip to the DMZ was so relaxing that I needed something to really get my adrenaline pumping.  

So I spent the second part of my vacation doing a temple stay at Beopjusa Temple in Songnisan National Park (located about 2.5 hours SE of Seoul and named "Remote from the Ordinary World").

My stay there was peppered with my usual sense of the ridiculous.  

The first night there, we were expected to get up at 3A.M. to chant and prostrate with the monks.  I was so excited by this that I got there early.  The usual amount of prostrations is 108, but being relatively new to Buddhism, I ended up doing close to 300 instead.  The prostrations accomplish the same thing for your body as squats, with the added benefit of bowing down to Buddha if you are into that.

The monks were kind to me as they watched me hobble across the dirt path.  They understood the hazing process of the amateur tourist trying on Buddhism like a spring jacket.

One even told me I was beautiful, partly because he felt sorry for me and partly because my hair is "the color of the sun in the morning."

The most attractive part of Songnisan National Park is Munjangdae, a peak that takes you beyond the clouds once you finally reach it.  Legend has it that if you visit it three times, you'll go to Heaven.  Or, if you visit it once, the health of your body will be restored.  

You have these two choices to pick from.  

I am okay with only visiting it once, and now keep checking whether I am looking robust yet.  So far, I haven't noticed myself glowing, but it's still early.

The temple stay was concluded by a long conversation and tea ceremony with a lovely female monk.  I commended her on her ability to find peace in this remote lifestyle, and lamented about how hard her choice must have been as a Korean woman.  

She looked at me puzzled.  

I continued to say her life must be so relaxing here, far away from the stresses of "ordinary life."

She blinked again.

"Working here can be very stressful.  Sometimes we really feel like we need to take care of tourists.  Even I have to remind myself to calm down here.  It's the same everywhere.  Nothing different. "

A stressed-out monk.

A normal girl looking for peace.

It seems like the only world we have is the one within.

So what do we do now but assume that the world is an okay place, but perhaps the way we see it from within makes it better than we could have expected.

Eating an Asian pear dripping all over my keyboard,

Yours,

Sabina