When Tong and I Went to the DMZ

The “Boat People” started arriving in Oklahoma in the mid-1970s. Oklahoma City got a lot- you can even still see the occasional South Vietnamese flag here and there, and they definitely still fly it, below the Stars and Stripes of course, at Vietnamese Public Radio on Classen Blvd. Nearby is a small memorial, paid for by these grateful immigrants.

My hometown in the suburbs got a few of these families. I was just a kid, not knowing the circumstances in any detail. But I made friends with a guy named Tong, and because we were young, I didn’t ask much about how he came to be in our town. It’s hard for me to imagine it now, but we just didn’t talk about it. We became buddies, biking around town with pockets full of quarters to play Defender, stuff like that.

It was only after we were adults did he really tell the story. He was Chinese. His family had fled from Mao. Unfortunately, their first stop was Vietnam, where they found more trouble, and an anti-Chinese mindset. Eventually, it was on to America for the family, minus one sister who drowned somewhere along the way. There’s a book in his life, which, sadly, he’ll never write.

After high school, he moved out west, I stayed in OK. We lost touch for a few years then reconnected. Thanks, internet!

Fast forward MANY years later. I’m in Korea and he’s coming to take a look at the place. We decide to tour the DMZ. At that time, we were not allowed to visit Panmunjeom, due to some flare-up, which I’ve long since forgotten. (This was after Trump’s election but before his walk across the line.)

The first place we visited was a monument to wishful thinking: spotless Dorasan Station, about 700 yards from the DMZ. Yes, in a step toward a rose-colored future, the South Koreans built a train station to connect with the North and installed a huge map showing connections to scenic, romantic routes all the way to Europe. It was used fifteen years ago or so to shuttle supplies to the joint industrial area at Kaesong, which is now shuttered. In addition, Kim Jong Un has ordered rail lines to the South destroyed.

From there, we went to Imjingak where groups of evangelical Christians regularly gather to pray for those up north, and where balloons with bibles, USB drives, etc. have been launched. Loudspeakers occasionally blare anti-North rhetoric as well. The North has responded by sending balloons full of garbage, including human waste, which have disrupted flights at Incheon Airport and disgusted scores of South Korean residents.

Lots of ribbons and embedded wishes on the fence here, but only those south of the DMZ know they are there. One can’t tango alone, I’ve been told.

Now when you go to Imjingak, you can drink over-roasted coffee at Starbucks and look out the window at the Hermit Kingdom. A Starbucks at the DMZ is the most Korean thing I can think of, outside of the current president declaring martial law to take the heat off of his wife’s luxury handbag scandal.

You climb up here to look into the North. Not much to see here, but note the train tracks. The North’s porky leader has destroyed his part of those tracks, too. If there ever is a reunification, people will be working on the railroad all the live-long day, to restore these lines.

To get a little closer, we got on a bus to the Dora Observatory, where you can look through binoculars. Tong noticed his GPS stopped working after we got close. Mine did too. How did they do that? Before, we left the bus, an ROK soldier boarded to check everyone’s passports.

You see both US and ROK soldiers there, as well as signs warning you not to step off the sidewalks, because of the landmine potential.

From the observatory, you get a pretty good view (through the binoculars). You can hear some North Korean music clanging, escaping out of their loudspeakers, and it sounds about like you’d expect. And they have a giant flag. And some roads and buildings. None of us at the observatory saw any people, though. All for show, perhaps. Here’s what the view looks like without binoculars.

We got an underground look after walking through one of the four, secretly built “infiltration tunnels” the Norks thought would go undiscovered. They’re big enough for tons of soldiers to pass through. Where the tunnel is sealed up, we could see through a small window into some poor spelunking North Korean’s “office” just yards away. Well, we could just see a fold-up table and a bare low-watt bulb. Unfortunately, we weren’t allowed to bring cameras in the tunnel, but we did get to wear cool hard hats.

One last picture. Nothing spectacular. Two Americans. Old friends.