Occupation

The shock, awe, and sheer fatigue that was last week pre-empted all my sightseeing plans, so, determined to stick to my schedule, I have stopped watching U2 videos twice this week to go out and learn about Korea's subjugation by Japan in the 1900s.

A summary of what I've learned (or think I've learned--if something sounds wrong, it probably is): the Western world seemed to notice Korea in the later half of the 19th century. China and Japan already knew they were there, but continued to notice them. A lot of countries set up trade treaties, which the xenophobic Koreans were a little uneasy with, but the real problem was the aggressive designs of Japan & Russia (and possibly some others). Korea was at that time beginning to wiggle out from under its feudal system, so the government was at a vulnerable point. The courtship of the Russians was having some success, so in 1895, the Japanese assassinated Korea's pro-Russia princess and dragged her body through the streets of Seoul. There was further grappling, and in 1907, the "Illegal Treaty" was signed, giving Japan some significant trade advantages and port control. I'm a bit fuzzy on what happened next, but by 1910, Korea was a Japanese colony. Many Koreans moved to Russia or China and started their own schools & military training academies in preparation for chasing the Japanese out. In January 1918, the exiled Korean Emperor "suddenly demised" (as the museum put it), fanning the flames of resistance, and on March 1 of that year, Koreans issued their Declaration of Independence. There were demonstrations all over the country, and a provisional government was set up, running things from China as they tried to figure out how to get rid of the Japanese. After 20+ years of protests, assassinations, bombings, and guerrilla warfare, with varying degrees of brutality in response from Japan, the Korean government got its own military together and that, coupled with the blasts in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, finally forced a Japanese surrender. August 15, 1945 is Korean Liberation Day. And then the Americans and Soviets took over. Which begins another epoch of history, covered in different museums.

On Wednesday, I toured Seodaemun Prison, built by the Japanese to incarcerate Korean resistance fighters. It's attractively set at the foot of a towering mountain, and it was a strikingly bright day, with temps in the single digits (Fahrenheit). I'm glad I didn't know there's no heat in the place, or I might have postponed my visit. My suffering was nothing, though, compared to the woman taking me around. Dressed in a military uniform of slacks, blouse, & blazer (and, I can only hope, longjohns), she walked me through the complex with no overcoat, hat, or gloves. When she first came out to ask if I wanted an English tour (most sane people being in warmer places, I was the only waygook there), I didn't immediately notice her clothing deficiencies; as the tour went on, it got increasingly alarming. We went through two barnlike prison buildings (with doors open at either end), the leper house, execution building, and women's prison, her skin getting whiter and voice getting shakier the entire time. She had a little pocket translator that she used whenever she got stuck on a word, and by the later stops, her stiff, blotchy fingers could barely peck out the letters. Loath to prolong her misery, I didn't linger over the displays, but I got the gist of it. The first barracks had artifacts--sticks for beating, tiny rice cookers for the prisoners' fist-size rations--while the second contained wax mannequins undergoing all sorts of brutal and creative torture. Behind the execution house was a concrete tunnel used to take the bodies into the mountain, where they could be disposed of without the dead's family having a chance to bury them. I contemplated asking if I could have a look round by myself, but by that point, I was also a bit shivery.

Yesterday (Saturday) required a bigger excursion, to the town of Cheonan, outside of which is the Korean Independence Museum. I was greeted in Cheonan by several massive art installations of varying styles. A plaque described the local council's efforts to build a more welcoming, less strictly functional bus station than is found elsewhere in Korea, based on an official's visit to bus stations in other countries, such as the US (really?!? I never think of Greyhound stations as particularly welcoming or inspiring). They did a bang-up job on the attractiveness factor, but after lunch at the Buy the Way convenience store, I noticed one glaring omission--any signage whatsoever indicating how to get places, such as one of the most significant museums in the country. Lonely Planet, helpful as ever, only said to consult the TI, and gave directions from the subway, so I set off in the direction indicated by a road sign with a train on it. After 20 minutes of walking, I was getting into more residential areas with no sign (literally) of a rail station, so I headed in a different direction. Finding myself back at the bus terminal, I went up the street the other way, but did not fare any better. Taking yet another turn, I saw a sign for a post office, and since I had a letter to mail, thought maybe I could knock off two objectives. 3 blocks and no post office later, I was getting a bit desperate. I copied the Korean letters for the museum into my pocket notebook, and started showing it to people. As slinking back to Seoul became an option, I was at last given a bus number (NOT the ones in Lonely Planet), which happened to be on the bus then approaching, and, at no extra charge, got a Six Flags-like ride half an hour out of town to the museum.

It's an imposing 10-minute walk from the road to the entrance, with a sharp mountain rising just behind the buildings and a spiky sculpture punctuating the long sidewalk. A woman at the ticket gate told me it was free (uh oh...that usually means a place is not in its full glory for one reason or another), and I trekked the rest of the way in, passing families playing in the snow, and a looooong line of kids dressed in identical jackets, carrying Korean flags (no idea). As is Korean wont, the museum is actually several buildings, requiring a brisk trip outside between each, but the exhibits are very well done, with significant English translation. I had just enough time to read through the narrative and contemplate the wax soldiers, strikers, bombers, and diplomats. I could skip most of the primary source stuff (usually my favorite), which consisted mostly of papers written in Korean and uninformative head shots of important players. Museum fatigue started to set in, but it was altogether quite interesting, and I have a much better grasp of what happened here in living memory.

I asked my freezing guide at Seodaemun if Korean-Japanese relations were better now. She said that Japanese people visit the prison sometimes...many are horrified by what happened there, some are not. Relations between the countries are normal, and "you see us at our soccer games, and we are smiling, but inside, we are not smiling."