Last week Stephen and I had the unique privilege of visiting a place called Cheorwon in Gangwon Province, South Korea. The town is located in the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) along the border between North and South Korea. Because the location is slightly north of the 38th Parallel, it was also originally part of the Demographic Peoples Republic of Korea (DPRK). When the Korean Peninsula was split at the 38th Parallel after World War II and independence from Japan, all land north came under jurisdiction of modern-day North Korea. Thus, from Korea’s independence from Japan in 1945 to the outbreak of the Korean War in 1950, the Cheorwon surrounding area experienced the birth of Communism on the Korean Peninsula. However similar to other parts of Korea such as Kaesong, after the Korean War broke out and then ceased fire in 1953, the town of Cheorwon was reallocated. Kaesong became part of the DPRK, and Cheorwon was allocated to the UN Forces as part of South Korea.

The moment we drove into town, I immediately noticed the unique character of the town. Even on main street, a few remnants reminded me of our ten years in North Korea. A waist-high wall bordered a local apartment. Murals displaying local culture were painted on cement buildings. Villagers commuted around town riding bikes. And although cultural aspects of South Korea were also prominent, it felt very much like we were in a blended city along the border of North and South Korea. 

For lunch, we stopped by a small restaurant that advertised a cold noodle known as “mak-guk-su”. We were expecting something similar to what we had eaten in other parts of the country, which is typically buckwheat noodles with a cold, sweet and sour soup. But what we received surprised us. The noodles were buckwheat but of a softer consistency, and the soup was not sweet or sour at all. Instead, we were served a meat broth with some radish and pieces of meat garnished on top, much like Pyongyang cold noodles in the North. The familiar taste brought warmth to our souls as we heartedly slurped up the precious meal.

Having a unique history, the town hosts several sites that have been declared as Registered Cultural Properties. The first of these that we visited was Cheorwon First Methodist Church, which was destroyed in the Korean War. Built in 1937, the church was founded by Missionary Artker G. Welbon but later served as barracks for the People’s Army. Gangwon Province was originally assigned to the Methodist Church, and so at that time the church hosted a strong congregation of 600 members. Unfortunately, its pastor and members were persecuted and suffered greatly under Japanese occupation.  It was not until the area returned to South Korea domain that a new church building was constructed adjacent to the old one. The church continues to thrive and operate even today. 

Next, we visited the most memorable historic site of the region, which was located precisely at the entrance to the DMZ’s militarily patrolled strip. This building was the Labor Party Building that implemented communist rule from 1945-1950, and similar to many buildings in North Korea, the ruins resembled former Russian architecture. Interestingly, at the time of our visit, the South Korean government was renovating the structure despite its communist origin.   

Along the side of the building was a bulletin board describing the use of the Labor Party Building by the Communist government. In light of the tragic past, I strongly sensed the spirit of fear and intimidation as I read the description. “Why would the South Korean government preserve a building that stands against their own ideologies,” I wondered. It dawned on me that South Korea was invested in retaining an attitude of fear towards the north. Preserving the remnants left from that era fueled people’s resistance and opposition towards communist ideologies.

For us, as we drove through town, tasted the delicious cold noodles, and peered across the border towards the north, we welcomed the pleasant memories that drifted into our minds reminiscent of our time spent in the DPRK. It felt familiar, like home to us. But as we viewed the reactions of South Koreans touring the area, we could feel the tension and sense of distrust in the air.

Our final stop in Cheorwon was the train stop. Being the last station before reaching North Korea, it was not in operation. We could walk into the station itself, but the railroad tracks were blocked off and abandoned. Weeds had grown through the cracks in the walkway, and the metal strapping keeping the door handles shut had already begun to rust. 

The Shintan-Ri Station stood as a symbol of the sad reality on the Korean Peninsula. Attempts towards reconciliation between the North and the South have stood stagnant. Channels of communication have been shut off. Intimidation and fear have been used as tactics instead of building trust.

We left Cheorwon with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it made us homesick for our days in the DPRK. But on the other hand, we were filled with remorse at the seemingly irreconcilable differences between the two countries. “One day this station should be restored,” I thought. Rather than just preserving icons of the past that increase the suspicion between the two opposing worlds on the 38th Parallel, it needs to repair and rebuild the divide that has broken this nation apart. When that day will come is uncertain. But one thing is sure. Unless we start paving the road for reconciliation today, it may never come to pass.