I viewed the video of the two Korean leaders stepping back and forth over the concrete block that represented the border between their countries this week probably a half-dozen times. I found the whole thing fascinating for two reasons. First, I obsess over all things North Korea. Let me be clear right up front, I see no redeeming qualities in the leadership of North Korea or their guiding principal of ‘juche’ whatsoever, but I find all the trappings that go with them quite intriguing in an almost sci-fi kind of way. Second (and more germane to my loose theme) and as I’ve said before, I love maps, and more specifically in this case, the lines drawn arbitrarily by humans across the landscape. The concrete block represents a decision made by two winners of World War II to share the spoils. Other than human actions that came out of that decision, there really is no difference in the dirt that lay north of the block than south of it. Despite that, two men stepping over and back is a huge, huge deal.
I rode my bicycle everywhere when I was a teenager. While it was a bit of necessity to get to work and sports activities during the summer, I took a few ‘pleasure’ cruises as well. What I had was nothing fancy – just a heavy steel-frame Huffy 10-speed probably purchased at K-Mart – but it allowed me to stretch my boundaries and explore. At one point, I decided that I wanted to ride my bike to the county line. This was a twenty-mile ride one-way across hilly country to another arbitrary straight line placed in the middle of a swamp nearly 200 years prior. This line, however, served more than a destination for a teenage bicyclist. Just before the line sat a bar – one of the few structures on this miles-long stretch of road in the middle of the aforementioned swamp. Why did it exist then and still exist to this day? Because you can drink on this side of the line and can’t drink on the other. People from a town on the ‘dry’ side of the line would travel over four miles in the middle of nowhere because it was the closest place to get legally drunk.
A similar situation plays itself right up the road from my house outside a large college town. One one side of the state line, you can buy a keg, but cold beer by the can or bottle is a no-no. Meanwhile, you can buy all the cold beer you want on my side of the line as long as it’s in cans or bottles. Getting a keg will involve a twenty-mile trip to the distributorship in the other direction. Why not buy the keg on the other side of the line? Merely crossing the line – which is right in front of the store – with said keg will get you arrested and your car impounded should law enforcement be so inclined.
Google Whiteclay, Nebraska and read about its “raison d’etre”. It’s a similar situation to the one I outline above, but hundreds of times worse. Believe it or not, if I ever find myself in the area, I intend to visit.
While Whiteclay is a “pop by if I’m in the neighborhood” destination, Wagah, Pakistan is on my bucket list. If you’re going to have an arbitrary border, you might as well do it with flair.
Of course I’ve been to Four Corners – the only place in America where four states come together. I also managed to make myself look like an idiot placing at least one appendage in each state at the same time.