Typhoon Lingling

An alert goes off. I can tell by the way I feel, and how incoherent I am, that it’s still the middle of the night — another alert goes off on my phone. It does not sounds like my usual alert tone, and in my sleepy state it confuses me. It’s only as I drift back into deep sleep that I finally place the alert tone, it’s the one my phone makes when it receives an Emergency Alert. Throughout the night I get a total of 4 emergency alerts — all letting me know that typhoon Lingling is headed for the Korean peninsula.

“Please refrain from outside activities and outings to prevent damage caused by typhoon ”

— Korean Emergency Text Alert

I don’t speak or read Korean, so in the morning it takes a few steps and some clear trickery to translate the emergency alerts. All give updates on the impending inclement weather. Local weather service sites inform that the typhoon is supposed to hit Incheon, roughly 20 miles west of Seoul, around 3 o’clock and head north by 5 o’clock.

I have no reference point as of what I should do during a typhoon. So I settle on taking the subway to a local museum. While I’m inside the museum, it’s easy to forget about the weather outside, but the windows offer brief glimpses of the museum grounds and the wind and blowing debris is staggering to witness. I see one brave soul walking into the wind using his umbrella like a shield and almost as thought it were a comedy routine, the umbrella turns inside out. By 6 o’clock, when I think the worst of it has passed, I head outside. It’s clear from the overturned potted plants (heavy planters) and debris that strong winds and rain have come tearing through the area.

It’s not until the following day that I fully realize the amount and destruction Lingling has inflicted. News sites are reporting this is one of the most powerful typhoon’s to hit the Korean peninsula. Thousands in the southern part of the country have been left without power, homes completely destroyed and there are a few fatalities.

Racing Around Bukchon Hanok Village in the Rain

It’s raining. Hard. And somehow everything looks extremely familiar and unbelievably unfamiliar at the same time. I’m trying to get my bearings and find the same section of the Hanok Village I remember from my last trip to Seoul, but it escapes me. As I wander up the winding roads of this picturesque neighborhood, the deluge does not stop, forcing me to take refuge in the nearest area I can. Turns out I’ve stumbled up a somewhat nondescript little observatory that offers a stunning view of the traditional Hanok Village. I feel somewhat awkward at first, the signs clearly tell me that the observatory is located on the third floor of this building, but as I climb up the stairs, I’m painfully aware that I’m walking past the front doors of people’s apartments. It’s quiet and I feel like I’m intruding on their peace, but the cozy “observatory” at the top is well worth the awkwardness. A small room with a balcony off to the side, it offers amazing views — I can only imagine even more so when not behind a curtain of rain. I sit, enjoying a cup of green tea, and get lost looking out at the view while lightening periodically illuminates the sky. Whatever initial irritation I’ve felt at having to seek out a place to wait out the rain has since dispersed. After a while, it appears the rain has slowed —- at the very least the loud cracks of thunder and lightening have let up.

Fifteen minutes after I head back out to explore, it’s raining hard again. No where near my original refuge, I’m able to find yet another observatory — the “best Hanok Observatory” that also acts as a tea museum. It’s another off to the side, nondescript, little place and on this stormy day I practically have the it to myself. While the views aren’t quite as stunning (still very nice), the actual museum itself is interesting. There’s not a lot to see, but the second floor offers a brief history and various tea sets on display. It’s another quiet comfy place to wait out the rain. I do typically enjoy exploring a place this way — without plans or a set specific destination, but if it had not been raining, I doubt I would’ve stopped to seek out a dry place and would not have stumbled across these hidden gems.

The DMZ

*Note this is a revised post from an old blog, the trip was taken in Oct. 2016

There’s something unnerving about signing a piece of paper that, for the most part, says you’re willing to enter a hostile area and there’s the possibility of injury or death. Yet I was happy to do so. It’s not often I have the chance to visit the Korean Demilitarized Zone.

After booking a last minute trip to Korea, it took me thirty seconds maximum to decide on taking a tour of the DMZ. Much to my surprise, a tour is fairly popular with multiple agencies offering day trips a few times a week and all the tours are fairly similar, hitting all the same locals --- the JSA, Panmunjeon, Imjingak park, the Dorasan Observatory, the third infiltration tunnel and Dorasan station. Found a company I liked, booked a tour and less than 24 hours after arriving in Korea, I find myself one warm sunny day in mid-October on a bus with 20 others who share my curiosity of seeing the infamous DMZ.

Arriving at the first checkpoint, we’re informed that from here on out we will have a South Korean soldier with us. Our passports are also scrutinized making sure it matches a list the guards have at the checkpoint. Once we’re all clear, we’re brought to Imjingak park and have the first opportunity to see the first few signs of the division between North and South Korea. There’s a building that houses a small restaurant and atop a viewing deck of the park while the Bridge of Freedom, used to bring POW's and soldiers back from the north. In the park are thousands of ribbons with prayers written on them. Prayers for family members, prayers for reunification and more. There's also an area filled with paper, each with a description of a family member in the north. Some have names, the last thing the family member was wearing or the last place they were seen. The hope, we've been told, is that if the two Korea's ever were to reunite family members would be able to use these to help find those on the other side. It's a sobering reminder that while we learn about these things from a distance, occasionally hearing about them on the news, the split between North and South Korea still affects the lives of many people.

Afterwards we are shuttled to the JSA, the well photographed area where officials go for diplomatic meetings with the north. We’re brought in and lined up, while waiting we’re given strict instructions that once we leave the building and are brought to the meeting point, we are not allowed to look to the sides, or turn around and look above/behind us. We are allowed to face forward (that’s where the line between North and South actually is, and where soldiers from both sides are) and take pictures. While things were calm during our trip, we never forgot where we were (hard to with north Korean soldiers staring you down) and that we were witnessing an on-going standoff in an somewhat tense location.

On our way out, we pass through the gift shop. There are no words to describe how surreal it is to buy DMZ trinkets (keychains, bandanas, postcards etc) right next to a place where hostilities and even gun fire have taken place. I suppose it shouldn’t shock me, capitalism is everywhere and if there’s an opportunity to make some money, why not take it?  Next we are taken to the third infiltration tunnel and Dorasan Observatory. The tunnel has a fascinating history--created by north Korean soldiers, one of four, with the intended purpose of invading the south. The grounds a sparse but well kept and there’s another gift store (just in case we changed our minds about that DMZ bandanna). We sit on some benches in an outdoor pavillion listening to a briefing while waiting for a rollercoaster like cart to bring us the hundreds of feet below the surface. Once in the tunnel, we can hear the drip drip drip of water falling around us. A cramped narrow space with dimly lit, we maneuver our way through the tunnel until we can no longer proceed. Blocked by a thick metal door, going beyond would mean crossing the border.

The sun is lower in the sky and the view is a bit hazy, we’ve arrived at the Dora Observatory just in time to hear the mid-afternoon North Korean propaganda song play over the loudspeakers on the other side. Our guide informs me that whatever they are saying, its indistinguishable to those in the South. A map hanging above the various binoculars highlights everything that can be seen. The faux propaganda village being the most fascinating. It was set up after the war as an enticement, trying to get South Korean citizens to the North, by tempting them with a life of luxury. At the end of the Korean war the north was more prosperous than the south.

The trip ends at nearby Dorasan station. Meant to connect the two countries together via train. It’s still in use for South Korean trains, but is not regularly used. Other than the 20 of us on this tour and two shop workers, the train station sits empty. Periodically departure times will flash on the electronic sign above the turnstiles but the normal ambient sounds of a train station are absent. Replaced with mostly silence and the occasional propaganda message from the north. As we leave, our guide tells the group that the hope is for trains to run again from the south to the north, but no one knows when that might be.