A few days ago we celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary, and anyone who knows us well knows October 29th is always exciting for us.
On our wedding day in 2011, the northeast of the United States was blanketed by a freak snowstorm. Travel in and around Philadelphia was nearly impossible, our wedding was delayed, and some guests had to cancel. Later, a good friend sent me this as a gift, a satellite photo of our wedding day.
The next year, on October 29, 2012 – our first anniversary – the northeast of the United States was hit by the storm of the century: Superstorm Sandy. This was not just a hurricane combined with a blizzard. This was a “superstorm.” On our first anniversary. Here’s that satellite image:
Many people assumed God has it out for us. Most wanted to know what would happen for our 2nd Anniversary. A small number, mostly in the northeast of the United States, told us to get out of the country on October 29th. We clearly complied with these requests.
Overseas, and with no natural disasters facing us, we decided to confront a man-made disaster. For our 2nd wedding anniversary, I took my wife to North Korea.
A few days ago, Amy and I went to the DMZ, the borderline no-man’s land where North meets South in a fantastic display of military strength, propaganda, and posturing. Let me start by saying there won’t be a lot of photos in this post. One thing they don’t let you do in what’s still considered an active war zone is take a lot of pictures. We were heading to the one place in the DMZ where the two sides actually meet head-to-head, a small compound called Panmunjeom that’s used for armistice talks and prisoner exchanges. It’s fascinating.
It all started out with a one-hour bus ride north of Seoul. Our tour guide Gina told us the history of the Korean conflict, and some background of the DMZ. We also had the chance to ask questions to a recent North Korean defector who now works for the tour company. She, her sister, and her children all escaped via China, after planning silently for three years! She didn’t even tell her husband, who she left behind. There wasn’t a lot mentioned about the husband personally, other than his being a pro-government guy, and by the sounds of it all, a bit of a turd (my word, not hers, clearly). Apparently they had about 2 hours of electricity a day, and little to eat. Like every mother, she wanted a better life for her kids.
We made a stop at Imjingak, a peace park very near the border. Since this is the closest a South Korean can get to North Korea, they come here to hang ribbons in honor of their ancestors and families stuck somewhere on the other side of that river, hopeful that some day they’ll be reunited.
Here we learned there’s a genuine desire among the South Koreans for a unified country. They’ve actually spent all kinds of money on a rail line to Pyongyang, with the hope that it will eventually open – it just sits there crossing the river into North Korea. I hope they’ve rust-proofed the hell out of it, because it doesn’t look like it’s going to get used anytime soon. But again, it’s a symbol of hope for the South Korean people.
And then, of course, a reminder of the present-day reality as a platoon of South Korean soldiers moseyed up next the park, out on patrol, and likely posturing for the other side.
(By the way, if you’re one of my old high school buddies who served in the military, don’t give me any crap about platoons or patrols or whatever – you’re right, I have no clue. Now shut up.)
After the peace park, it was off to the main event – the DMZ. Again, no photos while on the United Nations base. After a number of checkpoints, we were handed over from Gina to US Army Private Martinez of the Bronx, who checked everyone’s passports against a pre-submitted manifest. Then past another checkpoint, and off to Panmunjeom. Google it. It’s a small area the size of your parents’ backyard where they literally face off every day in a fantastic display of military posturing. And while it’s not active every day, it’s a real, honest-to-God front which could erupt at any moment. There have actually been a few times since the end of the war when people have been killed in this “neutral” zone – two by AXE MURDER!
And we went there. As tourists. On our anniversary.
We were led into the main conference room building, which spans North and South. Both sides are allowed in this building, and hold talks at a table that sits right on the border. It’s the only place on the peninsula where the North can go into the South, and the South can go into the North. Private Martinez told us what I just told you. And then he gave us the thumbs-up on photos – it’s not like the North Koreans don’t know what it looks like.
That’s us in North Korea, next to a South Korean guard.
This is a picture I took in North Korea, looking back into South Korea. I think you can make out the borderline, that cement slab. We’re literally in North Korea looking into South Korea.
This is a selfie of us in North Korea. NORTH KOREA. Hi, Mom. We’re fine.
This is another South Korean guard, who probably would have strangled me with his bare hands if he knew I took this picture surreptitiously. I found out later I wasn’t supposed to do that.
This is the main table, right on the border. The guard is spanning the border.
Then we were led outside, “safely” back in South Korea, where Private Martinez gave us an extensive briefing about the site in full view of the North Koreans. Again, he gave us the go-ahead to take photos. Take a look:
This was the North Korean guard who was checking us out the entire time.
I swear, at one point while I was zoomed in taking a picture, he was focused in on me, specifically.
We’d been in NORTH KOREA. Wild. Then we returned to the UN base on the DMZ.
Like all great institutions – art museums, mental hospitals, airports, and fancy hotels – the DMZ has a gift shop, and we went (again, no photos on the military base). You can get key chains, hats, t-shirts, Zippo lighters, ice cream, and coffee mugs; and through some kind of ridiculous agreement, they actually sell North Korean liquor there. You can buy “grape wine” (as opposed to rice wine, I guess), another “special” grape wine, and some kind of crappy brandy. I bought the grape wine.
How did it taste? Not good. Not good at all. Like bad communion wine (I assure you, Jewish friends – that ain’t good). And look – there’s things floating in it.
I couldn’t finish the glass. I dumped out the rest of it, and here’s what the bottle looked like:
Look at the crud left in the bottle. Gross. The North Koreans can’t even produce a decent drinkable table wine.
That’s twelve bucks down the drain. And here’s the first thought I had after I bought the grape wine: Did I just fund a fascist, human-rights abusing regime? Maybe. But Amy reminded me that the money raised is supposed to support reunification efforts, so…okay. I don’t know…
It was a surreal day. And also a bit of a sad day. Sure, we stepped into North Korea, and that’s pretty crazy. But imagine if we were never allowed to cross the Mason-Dixon line. What if you never saw your parents again? It’s sad. It was a novelty for us to do this, sure, a political anomaly. But for Korea, it’s a reality. I wish the best for both of these countries – one that will hopefully be freed from a long nightmare, and another that will finally be reunited with the people they love. It’s a long-shot, sure. But there’s always hope, even if it comes in the form of a small room in a neutral zone in the middle of no-man’s land.
Amy & Private Martinez
werefinemom.com 
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