A dream that no longer can come true for elderly displaced people of 'Abai Village'
- 6 years ago
Heartwarming news for scores of Korean War-separated families who are setting off soon to reunite with their long-lost families in North Korea.
But for most elderly people, meeting their relatives one last time is nothing more than a dream.
And sadly for many of those in ' Abai Village', it's a dream that will never come true.
Our Cha Sang-mi is in the city of Sokcho near the inter-Korean border to hear their stories.
68 years have passed since the Korean War broke out, tearing people away from their families and leaving them separated in two different countries.
Many people from the North fled during the war to a place on the east coast just over the border... called Cheongho-dong.
"However, this place is more widely known as 'Abai Village', which comes from the Hamgyeong-do dialect meaning "an aged father" -- referring to the numerous elderly residents who escaped to the area."
Abai Village is only around 50 kilometers away from the Demilitarized Zone.
It's also close to Mt. Kumgang where the reunions of separated families will take place next week.
According to the people in town, Abai was a sandy beach back in the 1950's, not a place where people lived. But that first winter they pitched tents for themselves and endured the cold.
They say there's a reason why they chose this place in particular.
"We stayed here near the border so that we could go back home when the war was over. Most of these people here, though -- the first generation of refugees -- are dead now. You see the red line?"
Hundreds of the displaced settled down in Abai Village, not knowing that the war would end in a truce and separate them from their families forever.
Kim says they once had hope, but as they grew older, their memories of their hometown also began to fade.
A ninety-three-year-old woman I met near the parking lot, says she doesn't want to apply for the reunions. It would just make things complicated.
"I fled Sinchang when I was 22. We left behind a three-year-old daughter. Do I want to register for a reunion? No, it's meaningless now."
Lee seemed reluctant to even think of the baby girl... whose memory she had buried deep down.
The local public hall where the elderly refugees used to gather is now empty.
Before long, it seems, Abai Village will be no more... its people having lived out their lives in a place they never expected to go.
Cha Sang-mi, Arirang News, Sokcho.
But for most elderly people, meeting their relatives one last time is nothing more than a dream.
And sadly for many of those in ' Abai Village', it's a dream that will never come true.
Our Cha Sang-mi is in the city of Sokcho near the inter-Korean border to hear their stories.
68 years have passed since the Korean War broke out, tearing people away from their families and leaving them separated in two different countries.
Many people from the North fled during the war to a place on the east coast just over the border... called Cheongho-dong.
"However, this place is more widely known as 'Abai Village', which comes from the Hamgyeong-do dialect meaning "an aged father" -- referring to the numerous elderly residents who escaped to the area."
Abai Village is only around 50 kilometers away from the Demilitarized Zone.
It's also close to Mt. Kumgang where the reunions of separated families will take place next week.
According to the people in town, Abai was a sandy beach back in the 1950's, not a place where people lived. But that first winter they pitched tents for themselves and endured the cold.
They say there's a reason why they chose this place in particular.
"We stayed here near the border so that we could go back home when the war was over. Most of these people here, though -- the first generation of refugees -- are dead now. You see the red line?"
Hundreds of the displaced settled down in Abai Village, not knowing that the war would end in a truce and separate them from their families forever.
Kim says they once had hope, but as they grew older, their memories of their hometown also began to fade.
A ninety-three-year-old woman I met near the parking lot, says she doesn't want to apply for the reunions. It would just make things complicated.
"I fled Sinchang when I was 22. We left behind a three-year-old daughter. Do I want to register for a reunion? No, it's meaningless now."
Lee seemed reluctant to even think of the baby girl... whose memory she had buried deep down.
The local public hall where the elderly refugees used to gather is now empty.
Before long, it seems, Abai Village will be no more... its people having lived out their lives in a place they never expected to go.
Cha Sang-mi, Arirang News, Sokcho.