So much for love thy neighbor

A couple of weeks ago, I went on a weekend trip to Seoul. What many of my friends and family didn't know was that the trip was centered around a day trip to the DMZ, the heavily armed and protected border between North and South Korea. Because there's so much danger and animosity brewing between the two countries (not to mention the rest of the world), I didn't want my loved ones to worry about me. The tour I was part of was operated by the US military, and believe me when I say that they had their shit stuff together.

We did the full day tour, which included a visits to the JSA, Dorasan station, a checkpoint observatory, the 3rd Tunnel, and a checkpoint with a fantastic view of the despotic country to the north.

Unsurprisingly, the highlight was the JSA, which stands for Joint Security Area. If you're familiar with the border, or the history between N and SK, you'll recognize these buildings.

The grey building directly ahead is North Korean. There were soldiers with binoculars looking at us,
 and cameras on the second floor taking pictures the entire time. Creepers.

This is where delegates/leaders from both sides meet, sitting at the same table. The building is constructed on the MDL (Military Demarcation Line), which designates the country border. Therefore, if you cross the line, you're technically in North Korea.

Main meeting table. The microphones on the table denote the MDL;
 even inside the building, everyone is distinctly aware of that line

This picture brought to you from N Korea. Look Ma, I'm in a dictator-run country!

These SK soldiers are only there for our protection, locked into the first stance of Taekwondo.
I felt weird taking a picture, but if everyone else is being rude too....

The 3rd tunnel is just what it sounds like: a tunnel. North Korea had started digging several tunnels towards the South with the goal of infiltration. However, a defector escaped to the south and told SK to start looking. Over the last 20 or so years, 4 separate tunnels have been discovered, and the 3rd one has been converted into a museum of sorts. You can walk all the way down the tunnel (which is freezing and extremely uncomfortable for tall people at >2m high), and at the end see the 3 steel blockade doors that lead to NK.

Pictures aren't allowed inside the tunnel, but this was an inspiring statue outside

There were several museums and stores that we stopped in, both to buy souvenirs and learn more about the history of events surrounding the DMZ. Of all the incidents that we read and heard about, the one that stood out the most to me was the 1976 Axe Murder incident. I won't go into detail about the event (read about it here) but the senselessness of it sticks with you.

Memorial to the soldiers killed during the 1976 Axe Murder Incident

The Bridge of No Return. This is where POWs are historically exchanged.

Dorasan is the last train station in SK before you reach NK. Prior to the violence and separation, the Korean railway system connected with other Eurasian railways, and you could take a train all the way from Busan to London. Thousands of miles of tracks stretching across 2 continents, and the only thing missing are the 4km from Dorasan-Panmun (NK).

 I bought a commemorative train ticket to Pyongyang

You might expect my biggest takeaway message from the DMZ would be one of fear, anger, or disgust for a history so heavy with lost lives. But honestly, the main emotions for me were sadness and hope. Sadness for the families ripped apart by war, over a (mostly) arbitrary line drawn in the ground, for the deaths of many brought about by the insanity of a few. But hope for reunification. There was a large segment of the museum dedicated to the history of reunification attempts, and I'll be honest: that's the only thing that made me cry all day. The video of broken families brought together again after decades of separation, of gymnasts so proud to compete in the Olympic games as one unified country, and students writing letters of hope for the future, that one day all of Korea can be united under one flag.

Now, every time my students tell me that they are Korean, and not South Korean, I can appreciate their conviction that much more.

Side note: My friend Roberta (you can see in some of the pics in this post) made a video about our trip. She included more pictures, some short video, and one of my favorite Korean songs. Check it out!

What'll you give me?

I have just learned something new about Korea. The reasons behind it are still unclear to me, as are the logistics, but nonetheless, this is common practice here. 

I'm talking about parents getting money for their children.

My coteacher, one of the sweetest people I have ever met (side note), is pregnant with her second child. We were talking about credit cards a few weeks ago, and she was showing me how many she has. When she got to a particular card, she said that was the government money for her daughter. Confused, I asked her to explain, and this is what she told me:

In Suseong gu, a 'county' of Daegu, she receives 500,000 won (~500$) from the government after her first trimester (her doctor fills out a form and submits it, then a prepaid card is sent to her home). Once the child is born, she will  receive 50,000 won every month until the child is 2 years old. 

But wait, there's more.

If she has a third child, she receives 500,000 won during pregnancy (again), but this time, after birth it's  200,000 won/month for 18 months. 

The 500,000 won during pregnancy is a federal regulation, so that amount is the same anywhere in Korea. What changes is the post-birth payments. Every county of every city is different; some are more, some are less. In Seoul, they payments are much higher due to a higher cost of living, and I can only imagine that the reverse is true in rural farming towns. 

I have no verified answers as to why this happens, but I can speculate to my heart's content (yay internet!). I've come up with two theories: 

1) This is the Korean government's way of encouraging population growth (hypothetical specific reasons stretch from national pride to diabolical world takeover. I'm leaning towards the former). If financial reasons are a major factor in a choice not to have more than one child, perhaps parents will see this as a means to compensate. 

2) The government simply wants to ensure that all Korean children receive a good upbringing. Malnutrition and lack of adequate housing are characteristic of underdeveloped countries, and maybe Korea wants to eliminate any chance of the same happening to their children. After all, future leaders and scientists and teachers are born every day. It's in their best interest to protect those minds and foster them in a stable environment. 

Keeping in mind that I have no idea of the full impact of this process on the Korean economy, on a small scale it seems like a great idea. The fundamental fact is this: parents are better able to care for their children. The amount isn't so great that you'd have a kid just to take advantage of a paycheck, as I fear would happen in many other countries (cough *America* cough).

Anyway, I'm interested to know what you think! Post a comment with your theory behind this practice, or whether or not it should be adopted elsewhere.

안녕!

Bye!

I'm going on an adventure!

Everyone has that one friend who enjoys jumping out of planes or dreams of rafting down the Amazon, and let’s be honest: we think they’re a little crazy (unless you are that person, in which case you’re totally normal...). For those people, ‘adventurous’ is one of the first adjectives that comes to mind.

You might think I’m an adventurous person, given that I moved to a foreign country without having visited or knowing the language prior, but you’d be wrong. I have no interest in jumping out of planes. If I’m in 2 feet of water I’m in constant fear of a shark attack. I get nauseous even thinking about bungee jumping. Suffice to say, adventure is not my middle name.

That said, I don’t know if it’s the air in Korea, or if I’m just embracing a new “why the hell not” attitude, but I’m finding myself drawn more and more to extreme sports. About a month ago, I strapped myself to another human being, who was strapped to a parachute, and ran straight off a mountain.

Paragliding in Cheong-do. Lucky it was beautiful weather!

 

I almost look like I know what I'm doing!

So that was a thing.

A couple of weeks after that, I rode down Asia’s longest and fastest zipline, with nothing separating me from a 700m drop except the seemingly flimsy harness.

That's me on the far left. You can't hear, but I was screaming my head off. Good times.

Maybe Korea is changing me. I find myself caring less what people think, whether they're judging me, or even looking at me funny. Somehow that's also having an effect in making me wear makeup more often (but that's for another post).

Regardless of why/how it's happening, I like it. I like being more confident and excited about new things. Does this mean I'll try shark diving in Busan? Hell no. But maybe I'll manage to stay in the same room?

Baby steps.

안녕!

Bye!

PS: Here is some video I shot while I was paragliding. Please ignore the odd noises I make...