Step along the paved village path lining a South Korean rice field at dawn. Stare out into the vast expanse of land under a reddish-orange sky. The distant hills behind the fog will certainly conjure an image befitting the nation known as the “land of the morning calm.” This was my last image of Daechuri village on a brisk February morning as I said farewell to a group of activists over breakfast.

After a three-month research stint in the Philippines, I returned in May 2006 to a strikingly different scene. The South Korean government had cordoned off all roads into Daechuri. Unable to access the village via public transportation, I made my way by foot. I passed through the first three police checkpoints with a U.S. passport, and the final checkpoint only after revealing my A-level semi-diplomatic visa status and berating the checkpoint supervisor for obstructing “official business.” Inside the village, thousands of riot police, complete with helmet, face mask, and shield, stood in front of a trench bordered by a double layer of barbed wire surrounding rice fields.

Only a week earlier, anti-base activists had clashed with South Korean soldiers and riot police to block the expansion of Camp Humphreys, the future headquarters of United States Forces, Korea (USFK). The South Korean government had acquired the land through eminent domain by the end of 2005 but faced fierce resistance from activists and local residents.