The River Seoul Kept Secret For Half a Century

At the heart of Seoul lies a river that spent half a century entombed. The Cheonggyecheon once ran openly through the city's core, but in the years following the war it grew polluted and hemmed in by shanties, so the authorities paved over it. Concrete sealed the water away, and by the nineteen seventies an elevated highway thundered above that concrete. The river persisted only as a rumour beneath the traffic.

I hjertet af Seoul ligger en flod, der tilbragte et halvt århundrede begravet. Cheonggyecheon løb engang åbent gennem byens kerne, men i årene efter krigen blev den forurenet og omringet af skure, så myndighederne asfalterede den til. Beton lukkede vandet inde, og i nittenhundredehalvfjerdserne buldrede en ophøjet motorvej hen over betonen. Floden levede kun videre som et rygte under trafikken.

Then, in two thousand and three, Seoul attempted something that looked almost perverse: it began dismantling the highway to dig the river back out. Engineers tore up the roadway, restored nearly six kilometres of the stream, and lined its banks with walkways, stepping stones and bridges. Sceptics accused the city of sacrificing useful infrastructure for decoration. The project proceeded regardless, and the stream was unveiled again in two thousand and five.

Så forsøgte Seoul i to tusind og tre noget, der virkede næsten forskruet: byen begyndte at rive motorvejen ned for at grave floden frem igen. Ingeniører rev vejbanen op, genskabte næsten seks kilometer af åen og kantede bredderne med gangstier, trædesten og broer. Skeptikere anklagede byen for at ofre nyttig infrastruktur for pynt. Projektet fortsatte alligevel, og åen blev afsløret igen i to tusind og fem.

Even the optimists were unprepared for what followed. Fish, birds and insects returned to water that had not glimpsed daylight in fifty years. Summer temperatures along the stream registered several degrees cooler than on the roads running parallel to it, a natural air conditioner threaded through the densest part of the city. Millions now walk its banks each year, many of them too young to grasp that their favourite corner of Seoul was once the underside of a motorway.

Selv optimisterne var uforberedte på det, der fulgte. Fisk, fugle og insekter vendte tilbage til vand, der ikke havde set dagslys i halvtreds år. Sommertemperaturerne langs åen målte flere grader koldere end på vejene, der løb parallelt med den, et naturligt klimaanlæg trukket gennem den tætteste del af byen. Millioner går nu langs dens bredder hvert år, mange af dem for unge til at forstå, at deres yndlingshjørne af Seoul engang var undersiden af en motorvej.