비무장지대안에서 정신무장겸 등산하기-뉴욕 타임스

비무장지대안에서 정신무장겸 등산하기-뉴욕 타임스.

2009/06/05 21:43

대부분이 여성들로 구성된 관광단이 여러대의 버스에 분승하여, 대광리 비무장지대를 방문하여, 안내 장병의 인솔하에
주위 산등성이에 올라, 철책선 넘어 이북을 구경하고 있다.
비무장 지대를 지키는 장병들은 참호속에서 잠복 근무하고, 높은 철책선을 응시하고 있음이 몹시 음산한 분위여 있다고 한다.
젊은 여성들은 '결혼 했어요?' 라는 질문을 가장 많이 했다고 한다.
방문객의 대부분은 여성들로, 인천국제공항 면세점에서 근무하는 직원들로, 한국에서는 흔이 있는, 정신무장과 동료들간의 화합 훈련을 통한, 일종의 훈육을 겸한 여행이라고 한다.
이북의 대포동 미사일을 무서워 할게 아니라,우리가 서울에서 누리는 호화스런 생활과 자유가 어떻게 해서 마음껏 누릴수 있는지를 현지를 답사하여 눈으로 확인시키고, 이에 대한 감사한 마음을 항상 마음속에 간직 하도록 하기위함에서다 라고 전해 진다.

정말로 우리 한국인들, 감상에 젖어 이북을 쳐다 보고, 그들을 같은 민족으로만 좋게 볼게 아니라, 그들을 통솔하고 있는 김정일 정권의 거짖과 위선과
국민들을 굶주림으로 몰아넣은 그잔악함을 이번 여행을 통해 깊이 인식했으면 한다.

TAEKWANG VILLAGE JOURNAL
At Border, S. Koreans Heed a Blustery Neighbor

Photographs by Woohae Cho The New York Times
MOUNTAIN HIKES, AMUSEMENT PARKS ... DEMILITARIZED ZONE? To build employee spirit and unity, South Korean companies sponsor hikes or other trips. But some have come to the demilitarized zone, where South Korean soldiers stay on alert as they look across at a nuclear-armed North.

Published: June 3, 2009
TAEKWANG VILLAGE, South Korea — The soldiers stationed at the bunkers and outposts along this stretch of the demilitarized zone that divides the two Koreas are on hair-trigger alert as they look across at a nuclear-armed North. But on a recent morning, they were visited by 120 civilians, mostly young women, who arrived in bright red and white buses.
As a South Korean private pointed to a North Korean guard tower visible just two miles away the women giggled at the military precision of his movements. Their first question was whether he was single. But many grew hushed as they began a guided 45-minute hike along the tall barbed-wire fences of the world’s most heavily fortified border.
“It is eye-opening,” said Huh In-young, 40, who wore a wide-brimmed olive drab hat with her sundress. “We tend to forget about the DMZ in our daily lives.”
The group was on a so-called discipline tour, a common practice by paternalistic South Korean companies to build employee spirit and unity, usually with mountain hikes or trips to amusement parks. But a week after North Korea conducted its second nuclear test, the company — the government-run operator of duty-free shops at Inchon International Airport, near Seoul — opted for something more sobering for its employees, who are more used to thinking about TAG Heuer watches than Taepodong missiles.
“This is about mental discipline, so they can see this and appreciate all we have now in South Korea,” said Kang Joong-seok, an executive director at the operator, the Korea Tourism Organization. “We take our wealth for granted.”
Indeed, while the North continues to threaten war and apparently prepare for still more missile tests, South Korea’s increasingly wealthy population seems largely uninterested in the belligerent attitude of its northern neighbor. In South Korea’s traffic-choked, neon-drenched capital, Seoul, life has not missed a beat since the North’s nuclear test last week, with residents still chilling at Starbucks or filling their cubicles in the city’s modern office towers.
In the local news media, the North’s nuclear test and the world’s response has often taken second billing to the national mourning and protests following the suicide almost two weeks ago of a former president, Roh Moo-hyun. South Koreans seem to have grown accustomed to the North’s sword-rattling, which some dismiss as a desperate gambit to wring concessions from Washington.
But near the DMZ, a 150-mile ribbon of tank traps and minefields, the tension remains palpable. In the South, a few points have been opened to tourists, including this stretch near Taekwang, a quiet farming village about 45 miles north of Seoul — and 100 miles southeast of the North’s capital, Pyongyang.
Visitors can look down on the DMZ from a camouflaged, concrete observation platform that looks like one of the many large bunkers that dot the South Korean side of the border. On the other side of a largely treeless belt of no-man’s land lies a similar line of fences and pillboxes, controlled by North Korea.
Until recently, the observatory drew about 3,000 visitors a month, soldiers said. One of the highlights here is T-Bone Hill, a stretch of rolling land that was the site of fierce combat between American and Chinese forces during the Korean War, more than a half century ago.
But cancellations have risen along with the tensions since last week’s nuclear test, though the military here says the border remains safe enough for visitors. Jang Seung-jae, president of a company that brings groups to this spot, said he had had more than 100 people cancel in the last week. “The TV keeps talking about how dangerous the DMZ is,” he said.
The only group to visit since the test was the staff of the Inchon duty-free shop. Mr. Kang, the executive director, said that some employees expressed concerns, but in the end no one backed out.
“It’s like swine flu,” he said. “Some are afraid of this, and some aren’t. It depends on what you have the stomach for.”
For some, the tensions were part of the appeal. “The thrill is why I came,” said Chong Ha-kyun, 51, who said he served as a soldier on the DMZ 18 years ago during his compulsory military service.
“Though I have to say, it’s less tense than I remember it.”
“South Korea has changed so much, but the North remains frozen in time,” he said, expressing the widely shared feeling here that South Korea now enjoys a comfortable superiority in wealth and technology, if not nuclear capacity. “I think all families should bring their children here, to see that our current prosperity is protected by a line of barbed wire.”
At the start of the walk, the group wrote wishes for Korean reunification on brightly colored ribbons, which they then tied onto the fence. None of the hikers said they felt hostility toward the North, though they were fed up with the North’s constant bluster and its weapons tests.
“I don’t have negative views about them, even if they are provoking us,” said Kim Hyun-jin, 30. “But I admit I’m nervous to come here. I was half hoping the tour might be canceled.”
Later that day, after the group had withdrawn from the DMZ for a leisurely lunch of pork and Korean soju alcohol at a comfortable restaurant, participants said they were glad they had come.
“This discipline tour will stick in my memory for a long time,” said Koo Sun-hee, 36, who said it was her first visit to the border. “North Korea is the closest country to us, but it feels like the farthest country.”