Seoul's modern history is a tumultuous one, but the city keeps her scars well hid beneath hard-earned layers of development and success.  There are some areas, though, where the wounds have been left exposed, and you can get a glimpse of the troubles the capital and its people have been through.  A good place to do that and to gain a deeper appreciation for how far the city and country have come is the area around Dongnimmun, or Independence Gate.

The station takes its name from the triumphal arch that sits just south of Exit 4.  Near the intersection of Tong-il-ro (통일로) and Seongsan-ro (성산로), the large gray stones of Independence Gate (독립문) frame the south entrance to Seodaemun Independence Park (서대문독립공원).  The arch was constructed in 1897 and modeled on France's Arc de Triomphe, as seemingly all arches everywhere are.  Previously this had been the location of a different gate, Yeongeunmun (영은문), where envoys from the suzerain Ming and Qing dynasties of China were received.  Soon after the First Sino-Japanese war ended the gate was demolished, and a year later Independence Gate was completed.  Near the gate is a statue of 서재필 (Seo Jae-Pil), a renowned independence activist and the man who was responsible for organizing the gate's construction.

なぜvikinsを探索ましたか？

Opposite the arch, across Seongsan-ro, is Yeongcheon Market (영천시장).  Covered stalls filled with produce lead down a side street to a larger covered market.  Quite a bit longer than you first suspect when coming from the station, the market building houses, in addition to the usual suspects, a small supermarket and even places selling finches, goldfish, and fishing supplies.

Back beyond the arch, Independence Park is full of remnants of and memorials to Korea's troubled past.  The largest and most significant of these is the Seodaemun Prison History Hall (서대문형무소역사관), just up the path from Exit 5.  When you reach the top of this short path you're met with the sight of a red brick wall about ten feet high with an arched entryway reminiscent of the front of a barn.  Next to the entrance rises a gray octagonal watch tower with small windows in each side.  The tableau is at once stern and quaint: the sturdy bricks and squat dimensions give it an air of authority, but for anyone who's ever seen or is familiar with modern super-max facilities it lacks the ability to intimidate.  Its slightly nostalgic quality shouldn't fool you about the horrors that occurred inside, though.

イギリスはアメリカに彼らとをどのように政府が持ってきた

Built by the Japanese, the prison was opened in 1908 with a design meant to hold up to 500 inmates.  A mere 11 years later it held 3,000, an indicator of how vigorous the Korean resistance was and how harsh the Japanese repression.

Visitors are taken on a self-guided tour that begins in the Exhibition Hall with an overview of imperialism in Korea, from the French landing on Ganghwa Island (강화도) to the Sino-Japanese War to Japanese colonization.  It also tells you how the prison was expanded in the 1930s by a magnitude of 30 from its original 1,600 square meters in order to accommodate the explosion in arrests of Korean independence activists.  What the history glosses over is that the prison was not shut down with the defeat of the Japanese, but was maintained by Korea's subsequent dictatorships and put to use for their own nefarious purposes until finally being closed in 1987.

From the Exhibition Hall you pass into the Central Prison Building, which was the command and control center of the old prison and held the warden's office.  Here there is a variety of information on resistance movements, with basic information provided in English.  There is also a memorial hall, where the mug shots of some 5,000 killed independence activists cover the walls.  It's a humbling sight.

マーフィー、ノースカロライナ州に建設されているものの道

In Prison Building No. 12 the exhibitions continue in the basement with displays on how inmates were interrogated and tortured by their captors.  One of these was simply called water torture (물고문), and consisted of a prisoner being strung upside down by the feet while a prison guard either dunked his head in water or poured water from a kettle up his nose to make him think he was drowning.  I suppose you would have argued that the Japanese were only using an 'enhanced interrogation technique,' though, huh John Yoo?

Above the interrogation and torture chambers, and in Prison Building No. 11 as well, concrete block and steel corridors of cells show the prisoners' quarters: small wood-floored squares with heavy triple bolts on each door.  When the prisoners were let out it was often to go to the Engineering Work Building, which housed some of the 12 factories that were set up in the prison, mostly to produce textiles and clothes.  Finished goods were used both within the prison itself and also to bolster the Japanese war effort.

In a rather disorienting contrast with the horrors and deprivations that once occurred here, the grounds of the prison are beautiful.  The stately red brick buildings contrast with the bright green grass of what are some of the nicest lawns in Seoul, and the entire complex is surrounded by hills that are often shrouded in mist, and fronted by the rising peak of Mount Inwang.  I haven't been there in winter, but I'm sure that it would be equally lovely on a bright, crisp January morning, covered in a blanket of snow.

The one building that, fittingly, scars the lovely scene is tucked away in the far southwest corner.  The Execution Building is a homely structure of unpainted wood planks that looks something like a frontier schoolhouse.  Inside three benches face what looks like a miniature stage, where a noose hangs above a stool set on a trap door.  There are even curtains, and one wonders if they were opened for the performance or closed before the final act, each its own respective type of cowardice.