Visit to Korea's Deadly DMZ

Used With Permission from Wikimedia Commons - US Soldier 2002

The cease-fire went into effect six decades ago, but no peace treaty was ever signed, meaning North and South Korea officially

remain at war.

To help maintain the uneasy armistice, diplomats established the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), a 2.5-mile wide buffer, cutting 160 miles across the Korean Peninsula. It's the most heavily militarized border

Used with Permission from Wikimedia Commons - DMZ 2005

Used with Permission from Wikimedia Commons - North Korean Soldier 2005

in the world.












Fences topped with razor wire physically

separate

the two countries

But it hasn't prevented numerous hostilities between North and South Korea. Back in August, each country launched shells across the DMZ after three landmine explosions maimed two South Korean soldiers. South Korea claimed enemy soldiers sneaked across the border and planted the mines along a known patrol route in a neutral area.

North Korean leader, Kim Jong-un, responded to the exchange of gunfire by declaring he was mobilizing his troops for an all-out war.

Hoping to avert a crisis, Korean leaders held a series of marathon talks inside the DMZ at Panmunjom, also known as "truce village."

Welcome to the Joint Security Area (JSA), the front line of the Korean conflict.

It's the only section of the DMZ where North and South Korean soldiers stand face-to-face.

The border runs down the middle of these two blue conference rooms, meaning one side is in South Korea and the other in the North. The white building is part of North Korea.

Tourists can't just wander into the JSA. It requires prior-authorization and being part of a group. I went with Koridoor.

There's plenty of rules to follow in such a potentially dangerous place – walk in single file lines; no gesturing or attempts to initiate conversations with North Korean soldiers; and no photos, until instructed.





At times, it felt a bit over done, but when one tourist snapped a photo without permission, a US serviceman, who was leading the tour, politely demanded he delete it.

After we received a briefing and signed release forms, soldiers escorted us into one of the negotiating rooms. Our previously talkative group suddenly grew quiet.

This South Korean soldier is straddling one of the world's most deadly borders. To the left of the flag and the microphones is the South and to the right the North. The microphones are on 24 hours a day to record anything that is said or done here.

"When I give you the word, you'll have three minutes for photos, and then we must leave," said one of the guides.

I headed straight around the table and into North Korean territory.

The conference room contains two entrances, one on each side of the border. When tourists visit from South Korea, the door on the North Korean side is locked, thus allowing me to safely visit North Korea.

Just in case someone decided to defect, a South Korean soldier, trained in martial arts, stood guard in front of the door to prevent anyone from leaving and presumably to stop any North Korean soldier from entering. By the way, the dark glasses and taekwondo stance are meant to intimidate the opposition.

The day I visited the JSA no North Koreans approached the border, but it happens routinely.

Here's a 2008 picture taken from North Korea during a South Korean tour group's visit to the conference rooms.

Used with Permission from Wikimedia Commons - 2008

The border is the concrete slab in the middle of the photo where the two North Koreans are standing at attention. During periods of unrest, a US soldier told me guards on both sides will sometimes square off at the slab, a mere inches from each other. The soldier told me he's heard of North Koreans feigning drawing their weapons to try to provoke the South.

When dignitaries visit, the tension and drama rise even higher.

This is a 2010 photo from then Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's trip to the JSA. Notice the North Korean soldier peering through the window.

Used with Permission from Wikimedia Commons - 2010.

I'll admit I was a bit nervous at times but mainly thrilled to finally see a place I'd read so much about over the years. If you're thinking of going, I'd highly recommend Koridoor.

Will Korea ever be reunited?

Some of the older people I talked with maintain hope. The war split the families of more than seven million people into two countries – preventing travel, mail, or even phone calls from traversing the divide.

But many younger people say they don't have much interest in reunification, especially because of the potential astronomical cost of developing the infrastructure and economy of the North.

Meanwhile, North and South continue to aim their weapons at each other, and the world continues to hope that no one makes a miscalculation that could trigger a major global war.

Mongolian Journey - An Intense Cultural Encounter

We've left the sands of the desert for the high cliffs of Yolyn Am, meaning Valley of the Vultures or Valley of the Eagles, depending on who's doing the translating.

The cliffs shade parts of the canyon year-round, meaning ice lingers here from October until the middle of July. You'll notice the ice at the bottom of the right side.





After another night's stay in a ger camp,

we flew back to the capital Ulaanbaatar, where we stayed with a Couchsurfer, which is one of my favorite things to do but something my girlfriend Alexandra had never experienced. I have to hand it to her. Couchsurfing homes can be quite lavish, but Ulaanbaatar wasn't an easy Couchsurfing introduction.

Our host, Berz, is committed to maintaining a connection with Mongolia's traditional way of life, although he resides in an urban setting. He, his wife, and their four children live in a small ger just outside the city limits in an area some might describe as impoverished.

When our taxi driver dropped us off, he looked at us as if we were crazy, and when we got picked up the next morning, the driver said she brought along her sister because she was intimidated to go to the neighborhood alone, a section known as the ger district.

Mongolians continue to flood into the capital in search of work, often preferring to remain living in their movable homes.

When we arrived, Berz welcomed us warmly and congratulated me on my recent 50th birthday.

"I hate to ask you on this special occasion, but can you pick up a shovel and help me collect cow caca?" he asked.

The family, by obtaining special permission from the government, is able to raise 10 cows in their yard, and cows require a lot of upkeep, including disposing of their digestive byproducts.

I'm always happy to lend a hand.

As you might imagine, Alexandra relished watching me carrying out my less than desirable task, but she got her turn later when she was asked to milk the cows, as well as help roll out handmade noodles for dinner.

Although we were unaccustomed to the environment, especially the community outhouse, the different level of hygiene, and six of us sleeping on the floor of the family's ger, we could not have asked for a more loving family and a better way to experience a facet of Mongolian life that most travelers never see.

One of the highlights for us was watching the two daughters perform traditional dance and hear the son play a Mongolian horse-head fiddle.

I must admit I also enjoyed helping one of the daughters work on her English.









We didn't perform, but since the kids love games, we gave them the stacking game Jenga, which the children and their father couldn't stop playing.

The next morning, the family hugged us goodbye and we headed off to our next stop  – a horse camp near Gorkhi-Terelj National Park, nestled in forest-covered mountains about an hour from the capital.