Destruction of a 'moon village'

Bamgol Village is nestled within a crescent-shaped ridge in Dongjak-gu, southern Seoul, in this picture taken Sept. 8, 2012. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar

By Jon Dunbar

Tucked away inside a crescent-moon-shaped ridge in Dongjak-gu, Seoul, stood Bamgol Village, a hillside community founded in the aftermath of the 1950-53 Korean War as refugees and other impoverished people moved to the rapidly urbanizing city.

This place is called a "moon village," or "daldongnae" in Korean, signifying its high elevation and closer proximity to ― and better view of ― the moon. While it may conjure up romantic imagery, Bamgol ― along with other moon villages found in Seoul and across South Korea ― was the byproduct of desperation and hardship, and thus is treated more like a bad memory.

Moon villages such as Bamgol were built on previously unoccupied land, usually without government approval or support. Most Bamgol residents moved in as squatters; only some managed to make legal claims to the land beneath their homes. Present-day residents told The Korea Times that Prince Yangnyeong (1394 to 1462), was once the legal owner of the land in Sangdo 2-dong. Yangnyeong, elder brother of King Sejong the Great, is entombed just south of Bamgol. Until recently, most of the land belonged to Jideoksa, a foundation run by his descendants.

Bamgol was developed with a distinct lack of planning, filled with winding alleys and steep hills, riddled with small communal spaces and urban farming plots. Such places would have made an ideal playground for young children living there, but Bamgol in later years saw its population aging rapidly.

The same view of Bamgol Village is seen in these two photos. The top picture, taken Sept. 26, 2015, shows a hillside community of aging houses and greenery surrounded by high-rise apartments. By April 30, 2017, seen in the lower picture, only one house remained there. / Korea Times photos by Jon Dunbar

Originally the land high up on Seoul's many ridges, hills and mountains was unpopular due to its remoteness and many perils. But advances in infrastructure and construction technology bring these villages closer down to earth. As the land becomes more accessible, redevelopers take note.

On March 24, 2013, Tae Ryeo Construction bought the land from Jideoksa, although some residents had their own land claims that needed to be sorted out separately. A temporary office for Tae Ryeo opened at the foot of Bamgol, with a sign out front boasting a conceptual image of a fancy new apartment complex to be built in this area. The project is, like most high-rise apartment complexes here, uninspiring and difficult to picture conforming to existing terrain.

Artists visited Bamgol, covering many of its bare walls with murals and paintings depicting happy villagers, pop culture characters, animals and more. Mural villages like this have popped up across the country and city, as initiatives to beautify poor areas, inject cultural value and justify their continued existence.

Meanwhile, the aging residents of Bamgol Village were happy to move out without putting up a fight. Vacancies had already been popping up for years, as residents left ― many leaving their worldly possessions behind ― but nobody else was moving in. Unlike some other high-profile cases, eviction was carried out peacefully here.

When reporters of The Korea Times visited on April 30, most of Bamgol Village had been demolished, the remaining land resembling a barren moonscape. Workers hurried to lay down blue tarps to prevent the wind from kicking up dust. Less than half a dozen buildings remained inhabited: three residential, one church and one supermarket. Two others sat empty high up on the slope, with graffiti urging their absent owners to reach an agreement with redevelopers.

From one remaining house, sticking out of the dirt in the middle of the crescent, an elderly resident stood watching her new neighbor: an excavator moving dirt around downhill. Places like this have made headlines, especially in China where they are referred to as "nail houses." In Korea this phenomenon is less well known, and the local word is "albakgi." While some examples exist of these places being spared from demolition, it is unlikely to happen here in Bamgol. Nor do the residents want that.

The last remaining residents of Bamgol were friendly and welcoming, but all refused to speak on the record, citing ongoing legal proceedings.

Once the last house of Bamgol Village is stripped away, it will be survived by at least three other moon villages in Seoul: Gaemi Village in Seodaemun-gu was granted "future heritage" status by the city which will see its lifespan extended, while Baeksa Village of Nowon-gu faces partial redevelopment combined with an ambitious rejuvenation project, and residents of Gangnam-gu's notorious Guryong Village await a way out.

Korea's moon villages are disappearing, but the same can't be said for the poverty that kept those residents in place. The moon village is an understudied phenomenon showing the plight of Korea's urban poor. It presents evidence of their desperate circumstances, as well as their ingenuity in rebuilding their lives amid harsh conditions.

A mural painted by artists on a house wall in Bamgol Village, seen Feb. 25, 2017, is covered with red spray-painted letters indicating the area is to be demolished. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar