Just a few minutes away from this landmark is North Korea. A field of ecstatic tension filled the bus and my insides were churning from the thought of communism. It never occurred to me that this abstraction could actually produce a psychosomatic discomfort. "What could the experience of crossing the 38th parallel be like", I asked myself. I'm sure that there's much more to this than just landing both my shoes on North Korean soil (and I have to keep those shoes after they've been worn out). I felt an unwelcome surge of guilt when, for a brief moment, I had escaped from my self-induced hypnosis--how come that I've really never felt strongly about walking on historical places in my country? I thought I should be more grateful when I get to visit the Aguinaldo Shrine than when I visited King Sejong's Memorial Museum.
Anyhow, we didn't cross the border directly. We had to spend the night in an apartment that's very near the border. It also faces the sea. The girl in red, Jelyn from Thailand, is seen contemplating by the window. Who wouldn't be mesmerized by this view? Foods were also prepared for us: there was spicy beef soup and Kimchi. Surprise! Since the tent was wasn't big enough to accommodate everyone for dinner, I and Freda (Singapore), Ken (Malaysia), and Joe (Laos) had to find a place where we could refill comfortably.
It rained heavily that day but we had to continue marching to a certain High School where a presentation was prepared. Two famous rappers brought the house down despite the falling rain. Participating students also gave their best to their comedic stunts. I remember the poor guy bashing his head through a watermelon. ... Toughie.
Sleepy now...it's 2:31am. I'll just edit this tomorrow.
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