South Koreans Feel Loss of Kin at Holiday Rites

The retired teacher carried with him a package of dried squid, a camera, a cane, two white chrysanthemums and a faded sepia photograph of his parents.

Bending on an arthritic knee and struggling to support himself and his parcels with the cane, he carefully placed the squid and the two flowers, one for each parent, on a makeshift altar in this divided peninsula’s demilitarized zone.

It is a Korean tradition on the Lunar New Year to visit the hometown of one’s parents and make an offering of food to one’s ancestors. But 80-year-old Kim Song Hyuk could get no closer to Kaesong, in North Korea, than a wind-swept parking lot at the edge of the DMZ. To do so, he joined about 650 other South Koreans with families in the North on a special New Year’s train ride Tuesday organized by the Korean National Railroad.

“This is the tragedy of our people. What other people have been separated for 50 years with no letters, no telephone calls?” said Kim, who fled Kaesong on foot in 1951 during the Korean War, leaving his parents and siblings behind.

Half a century later, the pain is still fresh, especially on holidays, for South Koreans such as Kim. For that reason, the South Korean railroad organized the New Year’s trip on a newly renovated line that, it is hoped, will one day go all the way to the North Korean capital, Pyongyang.

As part of an agreement struck in June 2000 during a landmark summit between South Korean President Kim Dae Jung and North Korean leader Kim Jong Il, the railroad between the long-estranged Koreas was supposed to be reconnected. South Korea recently finished a $150-million project to rebuild its seven-mile stretch to the DMZ, but the North Koreans have not yet done their section.

Dorasan Station, the northernmost stop on the rebuilt line, is a brand-new facility with shiny marble floors, clean restrooms, space for customs and quarantine, and a sign directing prospective passengers to the Pyongyang train. Signs on the platform inform travelers that the trip to Pyongyang is a mere 205 kilometers, or 127 miles. But there are no trains, and the prospects for them are dim, given that the reconciliation process between the Koreas is at a standstill.

Tuesday’s New Year’s train was the first to pull into Dorasan and might be the only one for some time, except for symbolic visits. (President Bush is expected to visit Dorasan next week during his trip through Asia.) The train was greeted by a marching band in a short opening ceremony. The station was festooned with ribbons and a large banner proclaiming Dorasan “the road to unification and peace and prosperity.”

Do Jeong Seok, a railroad spokesman, said that when the line between South and North Korea is finally reconnected, it will prove an economic boon because it will provide a land transport link to both Europe and China.

“You cannot calculate just in terms of money. This will be the connection to all the continent,” Do said.

Son Hak Lae, the administrator of the railroad, said he hopes North Korea plans to start work on its seven-mile stretch soon. President Kim said last month that military intelligence had observed North Koreans refurbishing a barracks near the defunct railroad and thought that might be a precursor to work on the other side.

The Korean families on the special train were less sanguine than the officials. Many said they had made the trip because they didn’t expect to be allowed any closer to North Korea in their lifetimes.

There have been no North-South family reunions for almost a year, following the first ones in half a century in August 2000, and efforts by South Korea’s Unification Ministry to set up a reunion for this Lunar New Year collapsed, leaving the train to the DMZ the families’ best option. The ministry reported that on a list of more than 100,000 South Koreans applying for family reunifications, about 12% have died during the wait.

The South Korean government said Tuesday that it is launching a project to set up videophone conversations between separated families.

“There is disappointment. We registered for family reunions, but nothing happened,” said Nam Moon Cha, 70, who was traveling with seven of her grandchildren for the ancestral ceremonies. “We wanted the children to know that they have a hometown over there that they maybe will never visit.”

Even though the trip was in honor of the holiday and many of the passengers wore traditional, brightly colored garments known as hanbok, the ceremonies were hardly festive. As participants bowed solemnly before a table laden with offerings of fish, fruits, wine and rice cakes, many burst into tears.

One woman threw her head back and started screaming toward the mountains of North Korea, “Omonim! Omonim!” (Mother! Mother!) The woman, 59-year-old Han Un Suk, said she was taken out of the North during the war as a 7-year-old by an aunt and has never been able to obtain any information about her parents.

“I’m old now, but I still miss my mother,” Han said.

Kim, the retired teacher, said the families have lowered their expectations and now aspire only to find out what they can.

“We wanted to reunite like the two Germanys, but we would be happy only to get a letter or to make a telephone call,” he said.