solegraphy :: like calligraphy, only better

Unfortunately, I am pretty awful at updating here. I feel a bit ashamed that I come here and settle rather infrequently. It almost feels like a favorite coffee house – warm and comforting, cathartic and peaceful. I used to visit every day, but once I had more reason to come and meditate over my experiences – I came more infrequently. It slowed to once a week, and then every other. Soon it became once a month and I forgot the reason why I would come. Perhaps, I would lean over my steaming cup and whisper that I will be back soon, but I know that I will forget again and return next month in a whirlwind of apologies. I will ask that you settle back with a warm cup of coffee and linger until I return.

April has been a flurry of activity. Every weekend has been spent hiking mountains, dangling over cliffs, laying on the beach, or visiting dangerous tourist locations. After all, it is finally spring. I say visiting dangerous tourist attractions casually because I know that makes you more curious. I am apparently an expert at psychology. Marvel at my skills.

A few weeks ago, I headed north to the DMZ (the Demilitarized Zone) – also known as the border with North Korea. (In the above picture, South Korea is in the foreground, and North Korea in the back). Since the only way one can visit the DMZ from the South Korean side is through the military, we were given strict instructions: no shirts with words – it could be used for propaganda, no sandals – it cannot be assumed that westerners cannot afford shoes, and no gesturing - one mustn’t start a war.

Have you ever been told not to bite your fingernails, and then found it absolutely impossible think about anything else afterward? It is the exact same thing when you have been told that to point anywhere could start a war.

“Let me get a photograph. Go stand over there! Crap! I pointed again!” As I am normally permanently attached to my camera, this was an unfortunately common occurrence. I would shrink and glance nervously around at the South Korean cameras and the North Korean guard towers and skulk off quietly, hoping no one noticed me gesturing wildly.

Thankfully, I finally was allowed to see the world largest flag pole maintained by North Korea’s Propaganda Village, though I am sure the military was hesitant to allow me anywhere as I was pursuing a career in conducting at this point. My obsessive need to research anything made me particularly compelled to share every trivial bit of information with my poor friends.

“Do you see that place over there? The place with the gigantic flagpole which I am violently gesturing to with my eyes? No, I am not having a seizure. That place over there – the one that I am not allowed to point to? Shoot. I pointed to it again! Drat, I don’t think I am allowed to say shoot.”

Frankly, I am quite impressed that I wasn’t wrestled away by the military and locked back on our bus. At least now I can say that I have stood with one foot in South Korea and one in North Korea – although, I certainly don’t think I will be allowed back anytime soon. Perhaps I can tape on a mustache and pretend to be someone else – because I am sure that will go over so much better.