Take a trip to the DMZ

Everybody comes to Korea with a list of things they want to do, see and accomplish as long as their arm. Taking in Asia seems to crop up on most of them, along with learning the language, taking up Taekwondo and, of course, saving money. But anybody with of a passing interest in history (or a slight penchant for voyeurism) is guaranteed to make a trip to the Demilitarized Zone that separates North and South. That it featured so highly on my own list is slightly worrying, but I’m happy to have checked it off and in the process of doing so, I had one of the most sobering, surreal experiences of my life.

There are various trips to choose from, each with their own selling points and packages. I was sold on Adventure Korea’s promise to take me off the beaten track. Rolling through the deserted countryside beyond the civilian control point that precedes the DMZ, I felt reassured that they had kept their side of the bargain, but a slight unease at the eeriness of the surroundings.

The once bustling metropolis of Cheorwan has long since been reduced to a ghost town. Stray machinery peppers the endless rows of rice paddies, conceivably abandoned at the outbreak of war, but more probably by the farmers who must leave the zone before their curfew. It amounts to a whole lot of suspense before we reach the first point of the tour, the Second Tunnel.

One hundred and forty five metres deep and 3.5 kilometres long, the tunnel was intercepted 1.1 kilometres in to South Korean territory in 1975 and had the power to transport 16,000 soldiers an hour under the border. The figure beggars belief. I have to crouch as I make my way down to its base, wondering how long it would’ve taken to carve this into the rock. The guide reveals, to gasps of astonishment, that there is an estimated twenty other tunnels like this yet to be unearthed, but that despite the recent decline in relations, they don’t anticipate an invasion. His words emphasize just how volatile the Korean situation is.

The centerpiece of the tour is a visit to the Cheorwan Observation Centre, situated a mere stone’s throw from the DMZ, with a bird’s eye view of North Korea. Of course, there is scant opportunity to see what life is actually like in the most secluded country on earth, but the little we can see is equal parts fascinating and shocking. On the South Korean side, the farmland is lush, the vegetation rich; a reflection of an age of prosperity. It’s in marked contrast with what we see on the other side.

On the entry point to North Korea, the thriving nature reserve that has been created by default in the DMZ comes to an abrupt halt. Everything living has been flattened, lest it provide camouflage for anyone attempting to escape across the border. There is a North Korean army base visible, looming disturbingly large on a hilltop. The smoke of a fire evidently lit by there soldiers rose towards the sky. Since I’ve been in Korea (actually, since long before it), I have wondered about the North and the peninsula’s situation. Being within such proximity was surreal and if truth be told, thrilling.

Traveling to the DMZ was a worthwhile experience: interesting and enlightening… and, yes, fun. However, it would be advisable to keep your expectations in check. You will not see anything you’re not supposed to, so be realistic… if you manage to do so, you’ll be in for a real treat.

Written for Say Kimchi News

DMZ Travel Piece for Irish News

The Korean Penunsula Takes On The World

World Cup preview piece written for The Impartial Reporter

At some point in the wee hours of November 19^th last year, my anger diffused. The nation, nay, the world had been outraged by the ‘Hand of Gaul’ incident that sent Ireland crashing from the World Cup Play Off. Calls for Henry’s head on a plate reverberated around the land. But in a moment of rare clarity, I decided that it wasn’t so bad after all. After all, come the time of the World Cup, I would be settling into my new home 6,000 miles away, in South Korea. And for the first time in history, both North and South sides of the peninsula have qualified. “This,” I thought to myself, “is not bad at all.”

Koreans, like many of their East Asian counterparts, don’t do things in half measures. They’re an emotional, patriotic and jingoistic nation on all fronts. Just as the current political and military showdown with North Korea has understandably awakened a fervent nationalism, the very mention of a World Cup is likely to send a Korean into raptures. There are discerning football fans in South Korea. Some are as devoted as those born on Old Trafford’s doorstep. And so, they when asked on their team’s chances in the tournament, they’ll consider it for a while and offer an intelligent opinion. Spain, Brazil and England are the usual suspects.

But for many, the opportunity to look no further than their own noses is too great. “Han-googo! Han-googo!” (“Korea! Korea!”) You see, baseball is king here. Kia Tigers, my local team, are dominant. My local professional football team is Gwangju Sangmu, the army team. They aren’t very good (eleven soldiers, employing a distasteful long ball approach is little match for the top dogs of Seoul) and so interest in football all year round is minimal. Last month I went to see a K League game in the Guus Hiddink World Cup Stadium, twenty minutes from my apartment. As the name suggests, it was constructed for the 2002 World Cup here and paid host to the Quarter Final between South Korea and Spain, which the home side won on penalties. But the game (a drab 1-0 home victory) was abject at best. The 44,000-seater stadium paid host to fewer than 2,000 and the whole thing had an anti-climactic feel to it and the stadium has the unwanted glow of a white elephant.

Accordingly, most peoples’ views on the beautiful game are a trifle warped. Park Ji Sung is the best player in the world. Bolton Wanderers star Lee Chung Yong isn’t far behind him. Unfortunately for them, it simply isn’t true. A Korean team is highly unlikely to lift the 2010 World Cup; North or South. North Korea is the most mysterious nation to have lined up at this, or any edition of FIFA’s top blue riband showpiece. Reports on their warm-up games have suggest that they will compete with an ultra-defensive mentality, in an attempt to stifle the opposition. By all accounts, they are a better side than expected. They will hope to frustrate, but a quick glance at their draw for the group stages suggests that’s about all they can hope for. Their draw of Portugal, Ivory Coast and Brazil is the toughest of the lot.

South Korea, on the other hand, has a little more cause for optimism. They reached the semi final stage in 2002 (albeit with some dubious and hotly contested referring decisions). They have got players, in the aforementioned Park and Lee, as well as 2002 hero Ahn Jung Hwan (formerly Perugia, Metz and Duisburg) and Park Chu Young (Monaco), with genuine European experience. The draw too has been kinder to them, pitting them against Nigeria, Greece and Argentina; second place is all to play for. A victory in the backyard of bitter rivals Japan in the run up to the tournament only heightened World Cup fever. A couple of wins in the tournament would see things reach boiling point.

But after the tournament, things will more than likely return to normal. Any Western game featuring a Korean will be big news, but most other football will play second fiddle to baseball. The profile of the game here has certainly risen since 2002, but perhaps not to the level the local FA and FIFA would have hoped. Despite this, the government has launched an ambitious bid to host the 2022 event on their own. There’s no doubting that they have the infrastructure in place. 2002’s tournament was spread thinly over eleven cities here, each with brand new stadiums; and that was only as a co-host! With worries over South Africa’s readiness for this year’s Cup and Brazil’s capability to network the vast country for 2014’s, FIFA could do a lot worse than to look once more to the Hermit Kingdom. It boasts the fastest train system in the world and is easily navigable. Perhaps it would finally give the game the final push it needs to become top dog.

For the moment, though, the focus is on the here and now. If, after the miserable failure of Northern and Republic of Ireland, you’re looking for a late horse to back, look no further than the Korean duo. You never know, you might be surprised!