The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 1 of ~

It really didn't feel like going to another country. I never considered North Korea as symbolically severed form the South, though geopolitically speaking, they are. The two Koreas were divided by a truce line called the 38th parellel after a ceasefire was declared by all the involved parties. After this line was drawn, the peninsula has never been the same again: lives were erased, families were separated, in the North, tyranny and poverty set in. Today is a very momentous day because I am crossing that line, a product of the human mind that does not imagine better. In my heart, there was a mixture of fear and joy, hope and despair for all that this line has cut through.

We rode the bus at around 9am and went northwards. It was a very long drive. But the seats in the tour bus were so comfortable that I really didn't mind siting for hours. The view was unspeakably magnificent for it was Summer. The hills and mountain ranges were green with life, farming areas teeming with ginseng and other growths, condominiums sparsely dotting the landscape. We're divorcing form the city, I thought. After about 2 hours of wheeling continuously, I thought I should get some sleep. But my brain's sentimental hemisphere nags at me to look outside the bus' window because it knows that I won't see the landscape again the same way as it is now. I guess the reason was well-founded so I resisted the urge to close my eyes. However, these days, try as I may to recall what were seen, all that appears is a whipped-up imagery of greens and browns and the monotonous grayness of the road; the beauty wasn't preserved at all in my head. I should have just gone to sleep. As I always say, my mind is so fragile as to keep the subtleties of nature, friendship, and virtually all other things, intact for a reminiscence anytime.

to be continued~~