Considered the most beautiful mountain range on the entire Korean peninsula, the Geumgang Mountains (or “Geumgangsan” in Korean) have been immortalized for centuries in poetry, art and song. Rising in all its majestic glory just north of the demilitarized zone (DMZ), Mt. Geumgang’s beauty was largely shielded from the outside world until 1998, when Hyundai Asan began operating tours from South Korea. Critics question the morality of pouring tourist dollars and public funds into a country known for its totalitarian regime and human rights abuses, but Hyundai Asan, a division of Hyundai Group, hopes that such tours and other ventures with North Korea will facilitate reunification of the Korean peninsula. (Hyundai Asan is currently trying to make available a Pyongyang tour, which it hopes to launch sometime this year.)

DAY 1

Our sense of anticipation heightens as the bus speeds north on a road bordering the East Sea. Soon, we’ll be entering the DMZ and crossing into Kim Jong Il country. I meet a group of South Korean tourists who are making the trek to Mt. Geumgang to “pray for the North Koreans and reunification.” They have bags of cookies and candy to offer the folks they will meet along the way. We have been issued identification cards that must be worn at all times. Mine specifies my nationality as American and ethnicity as “Chosun,” which is how North Koreans refer to Korea.

Established by the 1953 armistice that ended the Korean War, the DMZ is the most heavily fortified border in the world. The two Koreas are technically still at war, with no formal peace treaty following the signing of the armistice. The border is four kilometers wide, with two kilometers each belonging to the North and South. At 155 kilometers long, the DMZ slices the Korean peninsula in half, separating a people who share the same culture, language and an often turbulent 5,000-year history. Of course, what they don’t share is the same political ideology.

“Please do not take any pictures from inside the bus,” instructs our Hyundai Asan tour guide as the bus rumbles through the DMZ. When Hyundai Asan opened the bus route to Mt. Geumgang in February 2003, it was the first land crossing of the DMZ since the Korean War. At the Military Demarcation Line, a North Korean military escort takes over, and we officially cross into North Korea, where everything looks more rundown, including the barbed wire. We see civilians walking, riding bicycles and pushing wheelbarrows. Other than a military truck here and there, there are no buses or cars.

At the Hyundai Asan resort, a North Korean military official scrutinizes my American passport and ID card, wanting to know where I live and work. “Your hometown is in America?” he asks. I explain I was born in Seoul but immigrated to the United States when I was 4 years old, and currently live in Seoul.

The ID tags are color-coded: South Koreans receive light green tags and foreigners, light purple. Mine is the only tag that is white, meaning someone who’s been “conferred the benefits of citizenship.” Neither a South Korean national nor fully a foreigner, the white ID tag sums up my sense of “in between-ness” in both Koreas. The military official moves me through customs, but not before giving me a somewhat puzzled look. Perhaps he has never met a Korean American before.

After checking into the hotel, we go for a dip in the mountain hot springs, which are legendary for their healing properties. Outdoor baths lined in jade, germanium and other minerals provide for soothing bathing amidst spectacular mountain scenery. As we leave the spa, it feels more like we are at a South Korean resort town (though not as crowded and developed) than in communist North Korea. The feeling is compounded when we exit the bus to upbeat, South Korean pop music blaring from loudspeakers at Hyundai Asan’s Onjeonggak Rest Area. There’s a Family Mart (a South Korean chain of convenience stores), a souvenir shop and even a duty-free shop selling Ferragamo, Chanel and Prada. At the all-you-can-eat buffet dinner, warming pans are piled high with all sorts of Korean food, rice and soup. It feels strange to be in the presence of so much food given North Korea’s well-known problems with famine and starvation.

DAY 2

I awake in the pre-dawn hours to a sky still dark with stars and a waning three-quarter moon. Downstairs, the breakfast buffet is in full swing, with piles of Korean food, toast, eggs, juice and cereal. Tourists fill the dining room and heap their breakfast plates high to prepare for the first day of hiking. In the lobby, a Filipino cover band sings American pop songs with an electric synthesizer. It is 7 a.m. and a bit surreal. I have to remind myself I’m in North Korea because it sure doesn’t feel like it.

“How safe is the tour?” I ask our Hyundai Asan guide as we head to Mt. Geumgang.

“It’s very safe,” she replies. “It’s like South Korea.” She reminds us not to take photos of the North Korean “guides” who monitor the mountain trails. Forty kilometers wide and 60 kilometers long, the Geumgang Mountains cover approximately 530 square kilometers and extend into the East Sea where it is called Haegeumgang, or the “Sea Diamonds.” Midway up the Guryongyeon course, we see climbers scaling the towering Bibong Falls, which is transformed into a wall of sheer ice during winter.

Filled with famous waterfalls, beautiful rivers and thousands of valleys, gorges and otherworldly rock formations, a hike through Mt. Geumgang is truly breathtaking. One can understand why Su dong-po, a Chinese poet from the Song Dynasty (960–1277), once famously said, “If I were to die the day after seeing Goryeo [Korea] Geumgangsan, I would have no regrets.” The Buddhist Avatamska Sutra even mentions what a miracle the mountain range’s 12,000 pinnacles are. At the top of one peak, we look down on Sangpaldam, a ringlet of eight pools that feed into the exquisite Guryong, or “Nine Dragons” Falls, below. Sangpaldam is the setting for the famous Korean folk tale “The Heavenly Fairy and a Woodcutter.”

They say that spring and fall are the best times to go to Mt. Geumgang. But in winter, the austere beauty of the mountains, with its frozen rivers and streams, are devastatingly beautiful. Shrouded in quiet whiteness, the landscape looks like stills from a movie. I meet a 68-year-old South Korean man who walks with the aid of a cane. He has wanted to see the beauty of Mt. Geumgang his whole life, but could not afford it until now. When I ask him how he feels, he replies, misty-eyed, that “there are no words.”

The North Korean guides are courteous and make small talk with the tourists. One North Korean guide asks why my nationality is American. I repeat what I told the immigration officer, but it only piques his interest. He wants to know when and why my family immigrated to the United States. He looks to be in his 40s, but I’m surprised to learn he is only 30. I ask what he thinks about Koreans who, like my family, immigrated to another country. The guide replies that he does not think badly of Koreans like us, but figures that each family had their reasons.

“Having grown up in America, how does it feel coming here and meeting North Koreans? Do you feel a sense of kinship?” he asks. I realize that just as I feel a sense of connection with Koreans in the South, I am feeling a similar sense of connection speaking in Korean with the guide.

“What do Americans think of North Korea?” he continues. And more specifically, “What do Americans think of the Chairman [Kim Jong Il]?”

He has more questions about the upcoming U. S. presidential election and the name of the Democratic front-runner. He also asks whether I think the United States will attack North Korea after Iraq. I’m surprised by his directness and interest in U.S. politics. I ask him how he feels about Americans, and he replies that he does not dislike American people and distinguishes between individuals and the U.S. government. “When someone hits you with their fist, you have to hit back,” he says. He also says that he hopes for reunification as soon as possible.

After the hike, we’re taken to Samilpo Lake for stunning views of the frozen lake and surrounding mountains. North Koreans are selling local food products, calendars and cigarettes. By the time we leave, the tourists have purchased every last one of the North Korean calendars, on sale for $1 each. (Although North Korea switched to Euros as the accepted form of foreign currency, North Koreans would only accept U.S. dollars on the Mt. Geumgang tour.)

As twilight descends, we watch the Pyongyang Acrobatic Troupe give a truly amazing performance to a rapt audience. The South Koreans clap enthusiastically, smiling and waving to the performers onstage. At the end of the show, the performers sing, “We shall meet again after reunification,” as the audience waves back. Dinner is in a private room at Kumgangwon Restaurant, opened by North Korea last February. Even though the food is delicious, at $25 per person, the dinner is certainly more expensive than a comparable meal in Seoul for a set menu of vegetables, grilled meats, seafood porridge, mandoo and naengmyun. Due to the scarcity of electricity, the room is dimly lit and we can barely tell whether the slices of pork we are grilling at the table are sufficiently cooked.

DAY 3

The weather on our final day is sharply cold with a biting wind. Today, we’ll be hiking Manmulsang, which is known for its thousands of interesting rock formations. It’s a rigorous hike, but worth it. Considered the number one scenic site in the Geumgang Mountains, the views of the rugged peaks and valleys are magnificent.

I meet a director of the North Korean mountain guides. He peppers me with questions about American politics and criticizes the United States, saying that the “imperialist country” needs to stay out of North-South Korean relations. On the topic of nuclear weapons, the director thinks that North Korea has the capability to make “even more powerful weapons,” but will not elaborate any further. “The U.S. has power over the whole world, but cannot influence North Korea,” he says proudly.

I’m curious how he feels about American tourists. He replies that he welcomes Americans and all foreigners to come view the beauty of Mt. Geumgang and meet North Koreans. South Korean college students coming to visit for the first time, he tells me, are surprised that the North Koreans don’t have fangs and horns sprouting from their heads.

Reunification must happen soon, he states, but “not the German way.” When asked to elaborate, the director will only say that there were many East Germans who “regretted” some of the effects of reunification. “Reunification will only be possible after the United States gets out of South Korea,” he says. When asked when he thinks reunification will happen, the 38-year-old director is not sure, but believes it will occur in his lifetime.

At midday, we board a bus bound for Seoul. Upon our return, the hustle and bustle of South Korea’s capital city, with its 11 million residents, traffic jams, skyscrapers and neon lights, are a vibrant and chaotic shock. As our car creeps along through bumper-to-bumper traffic, I wonder how reunification will be achieved. In the North, I experienced the sense of “jung” (a Korean term without a direct translation but is akin to a deeply felt affection and warm-heartedness) that North and South Koreans clearly feel for each other. But I had also experienced the wall of ideology that separates the two. Though invisible, it seemed more palpable and more of an obstacle than the physical barrier that separates the land and its people.

Helen E. Sung is a writer currently living in Seoul. E-mail her at helensung415@yahoo.com with questions or comments.

TRAVEL INFORMATION

Cost for the 3-day, 2-night trip originating from Seoul is about $300 per person for double occupancy, and includes lodging and breakfast. Optional activities such as the hot springs are extra. (Hyundai Asan used to conduct a more expensive sea route to Mt. Geumgang, but the tour has been cancelled indefinitely while the company considers a high-speed boat route.) For more information in English, call 82-2-3669-3692, or visit www.mtkumgang.com (in Korean only).