SEOUL, South Korea, Nov. 30 ?After waiting for half a century, when Ra To So finally got a glimpse of his older sister today, his first reaction was confusion imposed by the fog of decades of separation.

"Who is this person?" Mr. Ra, a 68-year-old North Korean, shouted in disbelief. And then, quickly recovering when he was reassured that the sobbing, creased-faced woman before him was really his 72-year-old sister, he added: "I'm so happy to see you again. I feel like I'm dreaming. Please don't cry on such a happy day. They took good care of me. The Great Leader fed me, clothed me and educated me. I'm doing very well."

Mr. Ra, a slightly balding man who wore a dark gray suit, neatly pressed white shirt and light blue tie, was one of 100 aging North Koreans who arrived here today. The reunification visit was the second of its kind after the countries' summit meeting this year, and also involved the travel by 100 South Koreans to the North to reunite briefly with long lost relatives.

Like many of the other North Koreans here, Mr. Ra declined to say what he did for a living. But his neat appearance and quick invocation of the praise name for the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il, reinforced the perception here that the North is enrolling its elite in the exchange program for reasons of safety, show or as a reward for their loyalty.

But on this day, Mr. Ra's sister, Na Do Soon, had no use for such fine points. The last time she had seen her brother he had gone off to school as the Korean War was breaking out in 1950. As the long years passed, the family began to assume that he was dead.

"Every year during the holiday seasons, we prepared ceremonial dinners for him in order to appease his spirit," said Ms. Na. "When I found out he was alive, all I could do was just sit there and cry.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day I'd see my brother stepping on the earth in front of me. I just wish he could touch the grave of our parents.

"It's terrible he won't be able to do this. But you know, the next two nights and three days will be the most painful for me, because I know I'll have to say goodbye to him and this time, perhaps forever. Don't even ask how I feel."

The North Koreans arrived several hours late, and the delay was a fitting metaphor for the sputtering diplomatic process since President Kim Dae Jung's June meeting with the North Korean leader in Pyongyang, the North's capital.

The North-South family visits themselves, which are the major achievement of the diplomacy so far, are running more than two months behind schedule, virtually ruling out a planned third round of family visits this year.

Moreover, the day's televised theater, with hour after hour of emotional scenes of the Southerners who flew north meeting their relatives long before the North's visitors arrived here, reinforced the view among many South Koreans that their country has become locked into a highly imbalanced relationship with the North.

The South Korean Red Cross, which has run the family exchange program in cooperation with its North Korean counterpart, seemed keenly aware that the family visits, launched amid great optimism and hoopla this summer, had become a delicate public relations problem.

"It is true that these visits are about two months behind schedule," said Park Ki Ryun, secretary general of the South Korean Red Cross. "But we must consider that recent events, including proposals for President Clinton to visit North Korea, have created real scheduling problems for North Korea. We completely understand that."

Pressed for details of discussions with the North over how to carry out the countries' program of visits, Red Cross officials acknowledged that profound differences remain between the sides. These involve everything from providing details on the "fate and whereabouts" of many thousands of presumably surviving relatives to freedom of movement and privacy during the visits.

"We are not satisfied with the current arrangements, and want them to be freer," Mr. Park said. "The point is for them to visit their hometowns and to sleep in their relatives' houses, but so far the North has not agreed to this. It is still under discussion." The North also sends officials here to monitor the Northerners' visits.

Mr. Park said that there are 100,000 South Koreans on waiting lists for the family visit program, all elderly people separated decades ago by the war. "At the current rate of exchanges, we will never get through this list," he said. "What we need is a permanent site and regular visits."

South Korea has proposed that the border truce village, Panmunjom, be used to bring families together. But the North Korean Red Cross has proposed the use of an isolated tourist site in a mountainous region of North Korea, which southern officials say would be costly and impractical.

That preference for an isolated meeting place seemed to find reflection in the stilted, rehearsed quality of the comments of many of the Northerners today. Their hale appearance placed them a world away from images of a country struck by economic collapse and chronic famine.

No Sung Ae had walked frantically, 20 miles a day, searching for her younger brother who had disappeared at the war's outbreak, but to no avail. When the two were reunited this evening, the brother, Ro Sung Tuk (in the North, the surname is rendered differently in English), in the presence of his North Korean minders, seemed to fight off emotional connection and even pleasantries to put his country in the best light.

"This is my eldest son," he said, producing a packet of photos. "He works for the government."

"I can't believe how skinny you are," Ms. No replied.

"This is my younger son," he said, ignoring her. "I'm so proud of him. He works at a factory."

Ms. No then told how their mother had kept her son's photo with him till the day she died, to which he replied: "I'm thankful a million times for having gone to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea! I did well. They put me through college, and my children too. I hold a high position at a factory that is run by the defense department."

contributed by The NewYorkTimes
 

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