It was cloudy that morning when we took off. We grabbed taxis from the hotel—three of them, actually—because everyone on the team wanted to go. The drive was about twenty minutes to half an hour, and before heading toward our final destination, we decided as a team (through our pastor) to first meet at another pastor’s church.
That morning, we gathered outside his church, which is located within the city of Seoul. I’ll share more about the church itself later, but first we had to figure out who would ride with whom. The pastor organizing the trip to the DMZ gathered everyone together and said—paraphrasing—“I have a BMW, a Mercedes, and an Audi.”
At that point, I already knew which car I was choosing. I hopped into the BMW with two of my teammates. Once everyone settled into their cars, we were ready to go.
Our host driver—whose name I unfortunately can’t remember at the moment—was a Korean man in his early-to-mid thirties, maybe around 34 or 35. He was a teacher at the church and taught both English and mathematics. He also worked as a tutor, helping Korean students improve their English and math skills. Later, I found out that his sister also taught at the church and taught the same subjects. I didn’t realize they were siblings until much later that afternoon, but I’ll get to that part when the time comes.
We packed our things into the car. I didn’t bring much—just myself and a camera. As we drove, it was fascinating to watch the cityscape change. Towering skyscrapers and high-rise apartment buildings slowly gave way to open spaces and countryside. The transition from city to rural felt gradual, almost quiet, as the city faded out of view.
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