Archive for the 'Opinion' Category
Author Spotlight: Lian Hearn
In his Japanese warrior trilogy, The Tales of the Otori, Lian Hearn dives into a gripping account of deep love, gritty warfare, mystical powers and hardened betrayal. And he does so with the poetic prose of master writers.
The thing that I have come to appreciate the most about his writing is that the depictions of the ancient tales are woven around a latticework of what most readily appears to the western reader as a very identifiable and believable historicity that may very well have existed in the hand-me-down legends that pass through the virtual gateways of Japanese myth. Seeing how these myths, then, play out in a western authorship, makes his books take on that very mysticism on which he bases his themes. And that certainly goes for his style as well.
Just as in his characters’ level of patience and poise, he writes in a way that sells his scene with obvious, painstaking precision.
To say that he wrote a “trilogy,” though, isn’t quite true. The trilogy exists and is certainly worth the read. But he has also gone in and written a prequel and a sequel that gives a two-fold capstone to the series.
The first in the trilogy is called Across the Nightingale Floor, and talks about the young master who, unbeknownst to him, is the last in a long line of mystical tribesmen. He’s trained at an art which he will later use to shroud his real powers — all the while honing them to become invisible, move with phantom-like fluidity and scale impossible climbs.
My review will end with this book, but I discuss more in the video. And I don’t want to give the rest away, but you can feel free to find out more about his other books at these links:
The video review is below:
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Along with her book, Letters from Burma, I also recommend her book, Freedom From Fear. Both were written while she was under house arrest at her Inya Lake residence in Myanmar. When released in 2009, she instantly became one of the front runners in the political movement in which she was involved before her incarceration 15 years before.
In Letters from Burma, which is a collection of two-page notes, she talks about everything from her visitation rights to and from her loved ones and supporters, to the folly involved in releasing pigeons outside her house. And in the moments where she’s found writing about the smaller, less static times of her manifold hours alone, her poetic writing never trails too far from the undercurrent of strife that she is faced with in her life.
Truly an inspiring woman through her strength, dedication and passion for non-violent resolutions in a country run by anything but peaceful leaders, her book, Letters From Burma, shouldn’t inspire women. It should inspire EVERYONE.
Below is my video review on her book and her time as the leading face of the peaceful movement in a land of tyranny.
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Today’s Author Spotlight from the Travel Geek, is Gordon Mathews. He wrote a book called Ghetto at the Center of the World. This book really appealed to me since I bought it while I was staying at the Chunking Mansion — the location the book discusses. It’s an odd place, that’s for sure. But nowhere near as odd as it becomes in Mathew’s world.
He’s a professor at Hong Kong University and has studied the place by staying at a room there (I think I read) at least once a week for three years preceding the book’s release — and presumably even longer. And while I don’t want to spoil it for you, I also don’t want you not knowing what an amazingly telling non-fiction this book really is.
From interviews with sex workers to anonymous inspirations from heroine traffickers, Mathews really digs in deep — almost as would an investigative journalist with a penchant for the underworld. And in that, he brings to the surface all the gritty details of the amazing goings-on with the big, white elephant stationed at the heart of the world’s foremost megatropolis.
Be sure to visit my photography website for HDR photos of Hong Kong. And support the blog and buy a print!
Here’s my video review of Mathews and his 2011 book, Ghetto at the Center of the World.
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[Wanna Help? One way you can help is to sign up for blog updates. Then email it to ten friends who might enjoy it. You can also share this video (which can be found on my youtube channel), my photography website and this blog. Help spread the word so others can enjoy my travels! If you have any questions, just email me at: cyle@cyleodonnell.com. You can also follow me on facebook, sign up to receive my tweets on Twitter, and see my latest pins on Pinterest!]
Hong Kong is a massive rush for any first-timer. It’s even more so at any time during rush-hour. It was amazing when I found a street, like the one above, that wasn’t completely packed with foot traffic.
Laborers throwing bags of rice from a truck; rich folk chatting away on their Blackberries; book-reading, iPod-flicking zombies pausing just inches before bumping into passersby as they come barreling into their shallow field of vision. It’s a maze of trollies, Mercedes, buses, overhead walkways and cryptic alleys selling everything from pantyhose to Christmas lights. And amid all this, surprisingly no other photographers.
For this trip, I made a special effort to work a my new style of photography that I have been wanting to integrate into my repertoire. And it requires a tripod with a nice head and the ability to hold at least 8Kg of camera body and lens attachments. So there I was, mid-sidewalk, setup and ready to shoot as the sea of people flowed around me, and I got the sense, for the first time while traveling, that I was no longer worried of being the victim of any type of robbery.
I know that sounds strange, but I am constantly on the lookout for quick hands, have an ever-present eye on my bag and know where all my camera gear is at all times. But I suppose I took more comfort than usual in the massive swell of bodies in motion all around me. I wouldn’t have been able to chase anyone down, shout at someone or for help or have much chance of even knowing if I was actually the victim of pick-pocketing. But I was at ease nonetheless.
I guess that feeling came mostly because I was a point of attraction in the street. So all the eyes peering in my direction acted as a web of security for anyone ballsy enough to approach and steal something from me. It would probably be the equivalent of walking onto a stage in the middle of a ballet and trying to steal a tutu. It was pretty refreshing, actually. After all, this is no small city; and indeed no city which was unfamiliar with crime of all kinds.
But before I start a tangent, I want to discuss some items that will be shortly upcoming for this blog, blog #41, the content of future blogs and the big plans that I have for the future of the blog in general. 
For this blog, I’d like to introduce a new technique that I have been interested in since my Korea trip. I wanted to do more of it on that trip, but I limited it mostly to gathering a style, hammering in the technique and then working on solid post-production. This new technique is called High Dymanic Range photography, or HDR for short.
This type of photography consists of creating several frames of the same image at different exposures and capitalizing on their ability to draw from different gradients of light to maximize the feel of “being there,” visually speaking. As you’re standing in a place, your eyes do a much better job of analyzing light as it truly appears. The problem that cameras innately have, is that they can expose for only one temperature of light at a time. This can be manipulated with the use of filters, multiple masking layers in editing and of course the software itself has, to some extent, the ability to draw out the other underexposed areas.
But when a camera can bracket several exposures almost simultaneously, it makes the work of getting the right all-around exposure pretty easy business. And with new technology, powerful thinking by photographic creatives and lots of financial backing, software has come about that makes that process much easier. But while HDR not only increases the amount of time needed to dedicate for still images on location, but adds a step in an already very tedious production process for large catalogs of images (that ultimately I have to deal with after every trip), it is much more rewarding once the final product is in. The image at the top of this blog is the exact result of what I am describing here. It is the way light hits the eyes naturally, exposing the under-eve locations of the scene just as would your eye’s quick and long-adapted ability to do so.
This image is another one of my favorites from the Hong Kong Collection.
This dramatic lighting comes from the multiple exposures that were created during a series of high-speed, continuous shooting that my Nikon has the ability to do, freezing the action sequence in a way that makes it possible to layer several different exposures into a single image.
But more about that later. Another part of the plans that I have for this blog is the addition of two very exciting things. I will be adding a discussion section of the newest gear that I am interested in like photographic equipment, travel guides and equipment, books, different websites that I keep up with and lots more to make things interesting. And the other point that I am excited to be bringing to the blog is a photography contest!
I will be hosting a new photo contest each month with prizes for first and second place. And lots of cool extras for participants. But since this blog can’t handle that kind of memory (or won’t, really), I have opened up a new website that I will be announcing shortly. There are some really great things afoot, so be sure to stay tuned for the latest on what’s happening.
And as for the blog that will be carried over to the new site, I want to also introduce new features that I have wanted to implement and that I think will really be good for the site (and that you will enjoy seeing). Firstly, I plan on putting up lots of videos. I liked seeing them in other blogs that I subscribe to and I have regretted not putting more emphasis on that here. Travel videos, tutorials, discussions on the latest gear that’s out there are all going to be part of my upcoming videos.
Secondly, I will also have a member’s area where you can log on, post links to your site, get your photos seen, link to your twitter account or Facebook and even start discussions of what interests you in the worlds of travel, writing and photography.
I want to form a community where I, and others, can come and keep up with others out there traveling, writing and doing what they love (and all those who live vicariously through them). But I will be discussing that more in upcoming blogs. For now, though, I have the great Hong Kong to blog about. Don’t worry, I will be talking about my newest favorite gear in this blog as well.
Lastly, I have several books slated to be published next year and, as well as portraits and landscapes, I will be hosting them on this and my photography site. I will give some of them away as prizes and will also host books by other authors like me trying to gain more exposure. I will, of course, be doing this overseas, so you’ll have to be willing to wait a few weeks for delivery if you’re the lucky winner. But I will get you your prizes, I promise.
But I don’t want to stray too far from the norm of the blog just yet. So in light of the mention of my interest in discussing
books, I wanted to point out one that I purchased while I was in Hong Kong. It’s a great read and it’s written by Gordon Matthews, a professor of anthropology at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, who’s taken a really interesting avenue for his research. He’s stayed at least one night at the Chungking Mansions each week for the three years preceding this book (and I am willing to bet, a few more). In his book, Ghetto at the Center of the World, he describes the Chungking Mansion as a dilapidated, 16-story commercial and residential structure in the heart of Hong Kong’s tourist district. It’s home to a remarkably motley group of people including traders, laborers, asylum seekers, drug dealers, prostitutes and even foreign workers who return home once every few months.
Of course, I stayed there as well. And I have to say, the research alone that went into this book had to be pretty entertaining. Every night there was some really amazing activities afoot right outside the gates. The on-duty security guards mostly laughed along with the residents at what was happening. But I didn’t feel unsafe (mostly) while I was there.
I can say, though, that this little building that would be boarded up and locked down for fear of collapse in many other countries, was a truly amazing oddity to be sandwiched amid the looming towers in the multinational headquarters of the world’s financial mecca. Multinational corporations and global companies might barely even lift a proverbial eye brow in its direction. But this dusty edifice probably had more character attraction on one floor than several of its goliath neighbors put together.
Anyway, it’s a great read if you get the chance to pick it up. But what better way to paint a picture of my experience in Hong Kong. It was really great. And the people were something unexpected, too.
As far as the city goes, from the cobbles in the alleyways to the marble floors at Starbucks, this, like many other huge, Asian cities, was basically a huge shopping mall. But the people were what made it surprising. Mostly they kept to themselves. But when bumped into (which was a rare occurrence indeed) there was always a hand wave and an apologetic look which was normally followed by an “excuse me.” And that reminds me, everyone speaks English in Hong Kong. So if you’re on your way there, you don’t have to worry about brushing up on your Cantonese first. But while you might not want to carry all those extra pieces of luggage through this unforgiving maze of concrete, you may want to overpack your wallet. This place is EX-PENS-IVE. And by no means should you take that lightly. You will go through more money here than most other places you’ll go. Make no mistake about that.
Not only is the exchange rate very difficult to quickly calculate mentally, it’s also difficult to bargain with people here because they’re so used to catering to so many currencies that they will try and work into other denominations to make it sound like a better deal. Talk about a headache. My calculator was the first thing to materialize when I approached any booth, table or counter — long before the money came out.
The trip wasn’t that long, really. All I had to do was get my residence visa worked out for Taiwan and check into my Myanmar tourist visa for my next visit there early next year. So the rest of the time was spent in book stores, checking out the sites, photographing amazing street action and, oh yeah, the best part: sailing through Victoria Harbor and Kowloon Bay. I have wanted to do that for so long.
Downsides to HK: if you’re not used to walking on inclined planes, you’ll be dead within hours of arriving. That, or you’ll simply never get anything done. Walking is everything. And everything is slanted vertically. So start your hikes early in preparation for a visit.
Upside, you can get anything you want here (and I mean that literally). And for being in Asia for the last three years, it’s nice to get an American cheeseburger and fries with real pickles and real ketchup/mayo and all the trimmings. Quite enjoyable.
Don’t forget to drop by the website, cyleodonnell.com, and check out the new Hong Kong gallery.
Until next time, happy trails!
So it’s my 40th Journal update and I thought, being such a nice, round number, I would update my blog to reflect the newest additions to my website.
Firstly, as a recent Matador University Photography Alumnus, I have learned lots that will undoubtedly help me navigate the waters of creating more exciting blogs. This will include videos, photography discussions, a weekly favorite pick of the best photographs on the internet as well as the latest gear to come into the mainstream. And I will be looking for input from readers that are interested in more.
Here’s my graduation banner:
My website, cyleodonnell.com, is in it’s third year, while the photo galleries, books and blogs have been running since 2005 and, to some extent, beyond. And during that time, I have trekked nearly 30 nations, ridden my bicycle through 12 countries, written 10 books, produced a database containing more than 25,000 images and made a dozen films from my research and documentary photography.
It’s been a blast. It’s been an amazing and highly recommended experience. And sometimes, it’s even been bittersweet. But it’s never been disappointing.
Please stop by and visit the website. Check out the newest additions to the photography section and then come back to the blog and post a comment here telling me what you think. The website is cyleodonnell.com/photography. And it’s a “Hover” site. Just hover the mouse over the link on the menu until another menu appears. It’s not really intuitive, and because of that, I have made menus on all of the pages just in case you accidentally click early. So you’ll need some patience in navigating the links.
Updates include: Indonesia galleries; a new gallery in the Thailand page as well as updates to the galleries in Thailand; North and South Korea galleries; more Malaysia galleries; a new Singapore gallery; and the publication of my newest book which will be available soon.
Just click HERE.
Day 6: Seoraksan National Park and the Naksan Provincial Park
Okay, so yesterday it was rainy and cold in Sokcho: the perfect day for editing photos, catching up on the journal and planning the next few days on the road. So after a nice, relaxing day to rest up and take it easy, I headed out this morning to the Seoraksan National Park. And, among other things, it’s absolutely breathtaking. The rock formations, the temples, the statues and artistry therein: beautiful.
The bus ride up to the park, though, was a great start to the day. Along with being the right thing to do, all over Asia, it’s expected that if you’re on a subway or bus, you give up your seat to elderly people and pregnant women. So, having that knowledge I graciously offered up my first seat to the elderly lady that boarded our half-filled bus two stops into the trip. Then the second. Then the third. Eventually, I just gave up and stood, noticing just how many old people live in this town. It’s amazing. They must have a great pension plan in this region of the country. It must be a hot spot for whatever Asians do instead of Bingo in their old age.
Whatever the case, I was becoming quite the entertaining element for all the old ladies at the back of the bus. Finally a seat would come empty as the bus emptied through the city. And the stop after I would sit, inevitably someone would board fitting the description of needing-the-seat-more-than-me. So I ended up just sitting half-assed on the inner wall of the wheel well that protruded past the seat above the driver’s side rear wheel. This pulled all but applause from the chorus of Asian cackling in the aft decks. But I knew that they all loved to see a foreign person obeying their virtues and being respectful. So I didn’t take any offence. Besides, I had hiking on the brain with a hefty reward of great views ahead.
And speaking of that: I am finding that “hard hikes,” per the Asian description, are more like easy. So unless they say, “It’s very, very difficult,” you’re likely to have a nice, easy climb to the top of whatever mountain you were told about by your nice, Asian “suggesteur.” Nevertheless, I decided to take the lazy way up the mountain and see the sights from there. I am glad that I did because I got a late start. But even if I went up earlier, the sun didn’t really give me too much to work with in the morning. Or perhaps I should say the clouds didn’t.
One thing I noticed, looking around at everyone who was at the park, though, is that they all love to wear their latest purchases at the lovely, little designer gear shops. Even in this tiny little town, items right out of Paris can be found in their full majesty. From sporty shoes to expensive suits – neither of which are useful in this snowy part of the world – can be found peppering the main drag of Sokcho.
But it’s still Asia. So, along with Hilfiger and Armani, they’ve also come up with amazing ways to provide quality, garner sales and still manage to save the customer’s hard earned Won. I give you The Red Face brand of outdoor gear; which carries all the latest fashions, all the climbing, hiking and camping equipment you’d ever need and even comes with a three-month warranty.
At any rate, though it was a tricky day for setting the camera for the ever-changing light patterns, I still wound up coming away with a great set of photos for the trip. So, in keeping with the great tradition of all good photographers, I will, instead of describing all the wonderful sights in detail, just let you get a peek at the peak from the pics.
The gallery below includes the best shots from the top and surrounds. I know that they are not the same as being there. They never really are. But hopefully you will enjoy this lovely little corner of northeastern South Korea from your computer screen in the best view that I can provide.
The atmosphere at the top was really cool. Once the cable car drops you off, it’s only a 10-minute hike to the very cusp of the mountain’s summit. You can literally stand on the very top of the highest rock on the peak. And just below it there are families having lunch and enjoying the brisk gales passing over on their way to the clouds above. The teenagers blasting their latest downloads from their iPods was a little annoying, but I guess you can’t have everything.
And if that wasn’t the most impressive part of the mountain, there was another unexpected item there. There was this guy running a little “shop” just below the summit. And, by the look of his face and physique, he’s exactly the kind of guy you’d expect to find there. He had climbing ropes and other gear available for those willing to brave the shear vertical cliff face. But what you wouldn’t expect to find there was his very large table, goods for sale (other than climbing gear), little medals
(presumably to reward yourself for climbing the 10 minutes to get there), and his engraving gear for the medals – complete with power generator and etching tools.
How they got all the way up there is a wonder, but there they were; adding to the strangeness of the situation. I was going to ask him if he took credit cards because I just wasn’t ready for another shock. But I enjoyed the interesting conversation I had with him while I was busy snapping away in all directions.
I even noticed people in designer hiking boots while I was talking and taking photos. The guy must have thought I didn’t care at all for what he was saying. But he acted polite and forgiving enough.
Another strange thing that came about from the trip was that they asked me for my ticket to return back down the cable car. At first, this isn’t really that interesting. But what if I lost my ticket? Would they make me throw my belt over the line and zip down the 1400-meter descent to the park? Again, I wasn’t going to ask. But I figured I would jot it down on my little note pad for writing this journal later. Ahh, the things I think about when there’s nothing but thoughts and new experiences to entertain the mind…
For lunch I had fish sausage (yep, fish sausage) in “spicy paste” and dumplings with kimchi. It was delicious. So much so that I took a photo of it just to share it with you – in some small way. The good part about eating out in Korea is that they force you to chow down without silverware. Chopsticks alone with one, tiny napkin and your meal. If you don’t have alcohol with
your meal they look at you like you’re far too sober to understand the question. This is, of course, evidenced by the fact that they ask you several times if you want an alcoholic beverage. Then, when you say water, a familiar look of disgust aligns the panes in their face just before they turn to retrieve your tasteless (but refreshing) beverage.
After lunch I headed toward the bus station by way of the tourist shops. I have to say; they had some top quality knick-knacks in there. It wasn’t your normal trinket dive. They had everything from marble sculptures that you wouldn’t even be able to carry home to elegantly crafted small, wooden figurines of monks standing in the wind – or so the bark was shaped to indicate. And, of course, they had your everyday stuff like back scratchers and necklaces. But I had a bus to catch. So I couldn’t hang around too long.
I am not sure how many of you readers know much about meditation and the hand movements and finger movements that form ideas, or Mantras, for the person meditating. But on the bus ride back into town, I met this monk who decided he wanted to tell me all about the hand gestures that mean different things for meditative purposes.
For instance, holding the hand up, palm out, and thumb-to-ring finger connected means waterfall. Invert that same hand palm up, and you have a tree or mountain – depending on what you like better. Index finger-to-thumb and all other fingers connected and extended straight up means wind. Invert that same coordination and you have fire.
He was going to continue, and I was very interested in finding out more, but he got a call on his cell phone and spent the rest of the time LOL-ing with his BFF. So that’s all I could get from him.
Now, I am not artist, and therefore have no artist’s eye. But I know enough to know that this place has been painstakingly refurbished in the type of time-consuming manner that we in the west – well we simply don’t have time for. And as a non-artiste, I will again turn you over to the photos that I was able to capture of this absolutely magical place. That entertained me until I got to the Naksan-sa Temple just outside the beach area and up the hill overlooking the lower part of town. It was established in 671 and is protected from the sea by the Goddess of Mercy, Gwaneum, represented in a 15-meter-tall statue of her looking southward just barely
within eye-shot of the temples. Unfortunately She’s not a multi-tasker, though, since she’s not done any good at protecting the temples from the many fires that have besieged the surrounding forested areas since its inception.
The gallery follows in part two of Journal 32
Day 4: DMZ to Sokcho
First off; last night I did a long city walk up to this representation of Korean, sky-scraping, phallic magnificence. Lit up like a Dutch Christmas tree and looming over the city from atop the highest peak in Seoul, the North Seoul Tower (Namsan Tower )stands 480 meters above sea level and boasts a nightly festival at its base complete with street dancers, painters, venders, several restaurants and even a dance club. It’s truly something that’s not to be missed.
And when it started raining on my way up, I thought it might not be the best time to come and see it. But, because of the hordes of people I saw evacuating, I figured that it worked out for a better photo opportunity free from the masses. And, as it turned out, it was just that. I wound up getting some great shots from under my umbrella and it didn’t even rain the entire time I was ascending the hill.
On the way home, I met up with this great couple who were looking for a place to eat and were headed for my general area of town. So we had this great barbecue at a place right down the street from my hostel. It was nice. And the food was spectacular. I am finding that Koreans LOVE BARBECUE! It’s everywhere. And that’s certainly not a bad thing. In fact, as far as Asian cuisine goes, it could have gone much farther south. It could have just as easily been pork testicles boiled in squid ink or something like that.
Walking back to my place, I passed by the Gyeongbokgung Palace which I had walked around earlier. It’s just as grand looking at night as in the daytime – possibly even more so. And the surrounding Bukchon Hanok Village, tranquil as if it was cast back to the 14th century during maritime – the clouds slowly sifting down to blanket the entire town. I ended up snapping a photo from a fence post in front of the main gate. I just had to take the camera out for one last shot before making it back to the hostel to crash for the night. I did a lot of walking yesterday, so passing the [expletive deleted] out will not be an issue.
On to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) which, besides being able to cut the stress, eeriness and paranoia in the air with a katana, is quite a nice place to spend a day. I was told that I had to leave before the day was out because I looked too much like a journalist. But before that, I had an amazing and enlightening day. It was filled with highlights like being questioned by teenie-bopping soldiers about the size of my… camera (yea right, they just had camera envy); I got to enter North Korea (I even got the stamp in my passport to prove it) for about five minutes to photograph the train station that (maybe) will eventually board people on its train that leads all the way to London, England on a 45-day stretch; almost fall into a mine field; and given a full length history that they don’t teach you about in U.S. History class about the fratricidal war that started when the North Koreans got permission from the Soviet Union to invade South Korea in 1949.
Approaching the DMZ on our military escort northward, our tour guide told us all kinds of interesting things. ‘No photos when we pass the Freedom Bridge; no taking photos of the soldiers; don’t leave the tour area; there are mines here and there, don’t worry, I will remind you when we get there; At the end of the tour you can buy 2kg of ginseng for $230.’ Stuff like that. 
And all the while, little by little, we’d start to see very strange and slightly more alarming things along the road. The barbed
wire was expected, I guess. But then we started seeing sirens and cameras. Then there were the guard posts all along the river. Then we passed over a multitude of road sensors. Then, in the distance we’d see drilling which, our tour guide would tell us, were the South Koreans digging for finding more North Korean tunnels that may be currently underway to bring in
arms and soldiers for their next invasion. Eventually we were seeing military vehicles following us. And then we were stopped, boarded, questioned and smiled at while being told to have a nice day and to enjoy our tour. Pleasant, really.
After the gate, we were instructed that no more photos were to be taken on or off the bus unless expressly given permission to do so. This was a big disappointment for me for two reasons. Firstly, for the cost of the tour, one would expect that photos could be taken. But more importantly, thousands of people come here each year which means that artist’s renderings, notes, personal memories of the place are undoubtedly being jotted down in blogs (like this one) and ultimately a huge mental map can be made from this. And this is not to mention that the area can be seen from Google-maps without a security clearance of any kind.
Once in the militarized (and yet entitled ‘demilitarized’) area, we skipped the first stop to get ahead of the crowd that was already there and went ahead to the next stop. There we entered the third (but not most recent) tunnel that was discovered on –or under – South Korean soil. I was surprised at how well I did in there. You’d think I would have knocked myself clean out after a few steps. But, alas, I only hit my head once. In fact, I think it’s because I am so tall that I did so well in there. I am constantly looking up for objects that have taught me a lifetime of lessons in the form of goose-eggs on the old noggin. In fact, I was behind a crowd of the shorter measure and they were doing pretty badly. But then, when have they had to watch their heads? Suckers! Tall guy’s revenge!
This tunnel was discovered by drilling down into the ground 400 meters and filling the holes with water. Because the stratigraphy below the soils along the Korean Peninsula is mostly made of very hard rock layers such as limestone, it must be blasted instead of drilled by hand tools which are all that would fit into a tunnel. So when blasting, it would be apparent because the water would shoot back up out of these boreholes and therefore indicate the location of the attempted infiltration.
Once found, they knew they’d been successful in finding others that had similar evidence and drilled down to all the locations they’d found to be blasting areas and, in total, found four tunnels to date – that they’re letting us know about. 
And speaking of what they’re telling us; I kept returning to the feeling that most of what was being said was some hard-lined propaganda. I know that the North Korean leadership must be guilty of brainwashing its citizens into hating the South Koreans in a manner describable similar to the way that the Japanese government kept feeding good news to their people even though they were losing the war after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941. But the things that they were feeding us were a little ridiculous.
One (again, very young) soldier told me, as I was overlooking the Dora Observatory, that all of the nice houses that I was seeing 12 kilometers in the distance were all facades and that inside them all were barracks used by military and people that the government paid to live there. He also said, when I made a remark about the hillsides being very beautiful, that it is important to note that there were no trees on the mountains – that the people were forced to cut them all down and use them as firewood because the government didn’t pay them enough to support their lifestyle.
In a discussion that I had with another youthful combatant, I found out that in the past all the electricity in the country went to power the electrical fence on the North Korean side of the DMZ. They said that now South Korea sends electricity over to their factories, that they employees from the North and that they pay them more than they would make if they made goods for their home country because the government requires them to turn over 50% of their wages if they work for a foreign government – hence their ability to work for South Korea in the first place. But when I started 
inquiring about this further, I found out that the south pays the northern workers US$7 per day, that all the workers live in these homes and essentially it’s the south that turns off the electricity when the workday is done and that they think it’s “good” to send this money and electricity over there and help out the government. They seem convinced that because of this nice thing that they are doing, the north will eventually become peaceful and invite them to have a unified peninsula once again.
Another soldier came up during this conversation and asked me if I was a journalist. I didn’t respond. He told me that journalists were not allowed here because it was the property of the United Nations and UNESCO and they didn’t want journalists here because all they publish is about how South Korea uses the DMZ – ultimately an area which should not be used as a tourist depot because of its hazards, in my opinion – as an attraction or to profit off the viewing of some other, impoverished nation. I asked the young man if South Koreans were getting tourist dollars from the viewing of North Korea and he said ‘yes.’ And then I replied, “Well, that kind of makes it true, doesn’t it?” Then I was asked to leave. Clearly I was asking too many questions for their liking.
I started to ask something about speaking to a U.N. representative to speak for themselves, but not only did I think that route
to be fruitless and a waste of time, but I already knew that it was the Koreans – and not the United Nations, who ultimately stand independent of the press and who don’t generally have the reputation of getting bad press for supporting in times of war – that didn’t want journalists entering. After all, they might be writing something like this! HAH!
Little did they know, though, that I’d already gotten all the photos I could ever want from the observatory. And in these photos were two that I am particularly proud of. Apparently, at some point in time, the North and South Koreans started erecting taller and larger flags. North Korea would calculate the size of South Korea’s flag and put up a larger one. This would be followed by the same action on the other side. On and on it went until they have what we see in the photos here.
At this point the North Koreans have a flag that’s nearly 650 lbs., spans 18 by 36 meters and sits on a pole 160 meters tall – proof that the world’s largest pissing contest does have its fringe benefits after all.
Next stop was the border crossing for the Dorasan Train Station. Through our guide’s broken English, I came to understand that there was a small portion of North Korea that we could enter if we paid a small fee, promised not to take off running down the train tracks and made sure we stamped back in with our passports. Photos were allowed here. But I didn’t see anyone from the North Korean army there. Wonder why.
Then, after a quick bite of steamed bugs and chicken guts on a stick while taking a walk through this great park with awesome bamboo sculptures and what appeared to be a pinwheel farm, I hurried back to the bus for the ride back to Seoul.
Once we reached Seoul we were all herded into this huge ginseng sales pitch in an attempt to get us backpackers to spend basically our entire travel reserves for a huge, inconvenient package of compressed roots, we enthusiastically boarded the bus for the last leg of the tour – being dropped off in the middle of downtown Seoul. What a relief. No stress there. Pay up, get out. Good luck finding your way around suckers!
It was okay, though. I knew where I was and it was easy to find the national bus terminal because I had my handy-dandy Lonely Planet and I actually read it. So that got me sorted and after a huge plate of curry chicken at this sweet restaurant overlooking the shopping district, it was off to board the Dongbu Express headed for Sokcho where I hoped to be dropped in enough time that I was assured a room at a coveted hostel (per Lonely Planet, anyway).
The “House” Hostel, Sokcho, was where I was headed. And once in town I snapped a couple of cool night shots and was off down the main drag to find this place. I read that its atmosphere and service was top notch. And while I could have slept in a bunker under fire, I’d just as soon have the good energy of a nice, clean place. 
It was all that it was advertised to be. The owner, yu, is a great little guy who immediately sits you down and gives you a map, scribbling all over it the directions, bus numbers and routes to all that Sokcho has to offer. That, alone, was a tour in itself. But it was nice to have. And the book was spot on. They pipe in the coolest of light jazz and plush waiting room furniture greets you just as the subtleties of this peaceful place set in.
Everything is clean, they are all private rooms with their own private bath. All the amenities that Korea just throws in there (free shampoo, laundry, internet, cable, etc.) were included as well. They have this miniature husky, Gulumi, perched happily outside in the open-air vestibule. Famous, old black-and-white photography line the quirky-painted walls of all three floors in the joint. And its chock full of the coolest people that pass through this part of the world.
But beyond all the niceties, I was hungry, tired and slightly dazed from the long day on my feet and humping it through four-foot-tall tunnels. So I dropped off my bags on the cushy, full-sized bed and headed down the road to the first thing that smelled tasty. And that wound up being this really great “Korean Buffet.” Which is nothing like the phrase offers to western ears.
Basically, you sit down to eat at a table that’s made of an old oil drum with a bolted-on metal top that has a huge hole cut into it. In this hole sits a small charcoal pit and griddle. Atop this fixture, you’re expected to grab your fill in variously seasoned meats (pork, chicken, beef and/or fish), cook it over a slip of tin foil and guzzle it down with rice wine.
The locals look right at home cutting up the meat with scissors – cigarette in hand – and scooping up conglomerations of veggie-meats rolled up in a piece of romaine lettuce and, of course, swilling back shot after shot of this white, viscous mixture that remains on the breath for days (so I’ve noticed).
bbq en
I, of course, looked like an ape with live chicken running around on my table to these people. And clearly that was too much for the cook who came out several times to cut up my meat, drag what meat I thought was cooked back off my plate and back onto the bbq for more cooking and select for me the “correct” portions of all the veggies, sauces and meats. It was a little comical. I grabbed way too much on the first go, so I wrapped up my “take away” and was laughed at for being too much of a pansy to finish it – even by the wait staff. It was great.
Then I went and passed out.
G’night!
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Day 5:
No post for Day five. Only spent the day eating hunting down camera shops, eating local foods and editing photos for the journal. A nice, lazy day in the mountain town on the coast of the chilly beaches in northern South Korea.
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