Environment 

A tale of two streams: From Seoul to Wellington 

Korea and New Zealand's capitals seem starkly different — but through Cheonggyecheon, a parallel history flows. 

Published Modified
Cheonggyecheon, a historic stream that runs through Seoul, is seen in Jongno District, central Seoul, on June 12.

At first glance, Seoul, Korea, and Wellington, New Zealand, have little in common. 

Seoul has a population of approximately 9.6 million, compared to Wellington's 209,000 residents. Their climates, languages and sociodemographics are largely different. Wellington is far too small for an underground metro; Seoul's is one of the world's most advanced. 

For years, though, one commonality remained buried underground until 2003, when then-Seoul Mayor Lee Myung-bak initiated the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project, unearthing a waterway thought to be lost forever.

Wellington has a history of similarly buried waterways. The only difference is that the streams in New Zealand's capital city have yet to see daylight again. Through the two cities' waterways, a shared story of struggle, historical healing and environmental reconnection can be told. 

As New Zealand experiences a more volatile climate and demand for the restoration of Wellington's streams grows, some point to Cheonggyecheon as an example of what can become reality. Smaller, community-led versions of Cheonggyecheon have already begun, while others have even higher aspirations for the city. 


A parallel history 

In 1840, both Cheonggyecheon and Wellington’s streams flowed in daylight, albeit in different states and with different purposes.

Cheonggyecheon, then called the Gaecheon, was a vital drainage system for the city, helping to manage flooding and take away sewage. 

The Kumutoto and Waitangi streams of Wellington were pristine. Robin Skinner, an architectural historian at Victoria University of Wellington, said the streams were used for food gathering and development.

"The rich soil around them was used for growing vegetables and their water was for drinking. Many  (forts) and villages were positioned near the streams." 

Skinner said the Kumutoto was also home to a birthing pool where Māori women would go in labor to bear children — an extremely tapu, or sacred place. Māori are the indigenous people of New Zealand.


An artist's render of Wellington before colonization, based off of a hydrographic map, painted in 1841.

Fast forward just over a century, and both Seoul and Wellington’s waterways also shared a very similar — albeit much worse — state of affairs.

Korea had just suffered through a brutal 35-year period of colonial occupation by Japan, in which Korean identity and culture were forcefully suppressed. Then, not long after the end of World War II, the country went through the 1950-53 Korean War, which saw as many as three million Koreans die

New Zealand had also experienced the effects of colonization. The indigenous Māori people were widely displaced, and much of their land was taken under various Crown-enforced laws. Assimilation, including the attempted erasure of Te Reo Māori, the native language, was driven by the state.

With colonization came widespread development and modernization. While comparisons must be cautiously drawn between the two cities, the effects on the natural environment were startlingly similar. 

An old map of Seoul's waterways

Wellington's streams were quickly polluted, and then piped, culverted and submerged underground to make way for lavish estates and housing. Space was a luxury in the hilly city, and the streams' natural biodiversity faded. 

In Seoul, the process of burying Cheonggyecheon in concrete had been started by the Japanese. Now, in the wake of the Korean War, the stream had become the center of a slum district: stagnant, polluted and poverty-stricken. 

Workers pipe and bury the Kumutoto stream on Woodward Street, central Wellington, on May 12, 1961.

The coming years would see the concreting process continue in order to make way for an expressway, and by 1974, the place was unrecognizable.


Slums along Cheonggyecheon in the late 1950s













Cheonggyecheon rises

Keeyeon Hwang, now an invited professor at KAIST, can still remember the day he was called up by the team of then-mayor Lee Myung-bak and asked to join his daring project to revive the long-lost Cheonggyecheon. 

At the time, Hwang was the director of the Urban Transportation Research Group at the Seoul Institute.

"I got a phone call, they asked, 'Can Cheonggyecheon be restored?' I said it was possible."

Walking along the stream at its headwaters, just off Gwanghwamun Square, Hwang's pride was evident as children skipped along stepping stones and readers basked in the sun, enjoying the outdoor library. These were the fruits of his labor. 

The Cheonggye expressway in the early 2000s

The process was daunting. The eight-lane Cheonggye Expressway would have to be dismantled, and traffic rerouted from what had become one of the noisiest and most congested parts of downtown Seoul. 

"One hundred and sixty thousand cars per day came through that traffic corridor every day, so traffic capacity in the adjacent roads had to be increased," said Hwang. "It was not easy."

Public opposition to the project was strong, and Hwang had to partake in thousands of public consultation meetings to settle the anxieties of business owners and concerned citizens.

Hwang Keeyeon, an invited professor at KAIST, at Cheonggyecheon in Jongno District, central Seoul, on May 4.

I was one of the ones who went down underground when we started the project. It was very toxic; I could hardly breathe. Returning to the stream today, you realize [that] this is life, it gave me my life back, and so many people's lives back too.

Dr. Keeyeon Hwang, Cheonggyecheon urban planner

"The public had dubious, doubtful eyes on us," said Hwang. 

In just over two years, the project was completed, opening to the public in 2005. It cost 386 billion won (equivalent to $375 million at the time). Hwang said an estimated 50 million people visited the stream in the opening month.

Air pollution decreased drastically in the stream's vicinity, and temperatures lowered due to a wind tunnel created by Cheonggyecheon. Land value in the area increased by 30 to 50 percent. 

The project was a real turning point for the city, according to Hwang. 

"Restoring water back to the city made it clear how important the environment is. It has had tremendous side effects. Seoul began to change from an air-polluted city to an environmentally friendly city."

Biodiversity flourished in the stream, increasing by 639 percent between 2003 and 2008. Birds such as herons and ducks began to nest there. On their feet they brought eggs from the Han River, and fish, including carp and koi, were born into the stream. 

Views from underneath the Cheonggye expressway in Jongno District, central Seoul, in 2002

Hwang said lessons from Chenggyecheon could be passed down to Wellington. 

"I want to recommend to the people of Wellington, come down to where the road covers the water, and you will realize it needs to be opened up."

For Hwang, visiting the stream resuscitates him. 

"I was one of the ones who went down underground when we started the project. It was very toxic, I could hardly breathe. Returning to the stream today, you realize [that] this is life, it gave me my life back, and so many people's lives back too." 


A Cheonggyecheon of Wellington's own?

While Cheonggyecheon runs free, the Kumutoto and Waitangi streams of Wellington are still hidden right under the feet of Wellingtonians.

The question remains: Is it possible for a Cheonggyecheon-style project to take place in New Zealand's capital city?

Stu Farrant, a Wellington-based Ecological Engineer, has the answer.

"Yes, it's quite realistic. It's expensive, and there's a whole lot of challenges, but yes."

Farrant said Cheonggyecheon proves that challenges such as cost, traffic management and business disruption are solvable problems. 

Bringing a stream back up to the surface is called "daylighting." In Wellington's case, a daylit stream could be even more organic than Cheonggyecheon. 


A design for a daylighted Waitangi stream in central Wellington

Cheonggyecheon, for all its benefits, relies heavily on pumped water from the Han River and subway groundwater to flow consistently, rather than the stream's true origin in the Suseongdong Valley. 

"There is a bit of disquiet around Seoul about the true ecological origins of the stream," said Farrant. 

Wellington generally gets more rain than Seoul consistently throughout all seasons, and the catchment areas that flow into the Waitangi are enough to make the stream's flow fully self-sufficient. 

"The real opportunity is to take the branch of the Waitangi Stream that has a scale of water in it that speaks to the space, and has genuine merit in creating the ecological connection," says Farrant. 

The Waitangi stream runs straight through some of Wellington's most developable land in the city center. 

Like Cheonggyecheon, a Wellington stream would also reap biodiversity and flood protection benefits. 

People [in Wellington] really do feel cheated that we don't have any streams daylighted.

Robin Skinner, Architectural Historian

The pipes where the stream currently flows under Wellington are jam-packed with longfin eels that migrated all the way from the Pacific island of Tonga decades ago. "They would thrive in a surface stream," said Farrant. 

In April this year, Wellington experienced one of the worst flooding events in recorded history. Homes were destroyed, and the streams that had been pushed into the earth for so long burst onto the surface, sometimes right through people's front doors. 

The Waitangi stream flowing under central Wellington, where eels still live.

These once-in-a-hundred-year events are now happening twice a year in New Zealand, according to a study by the research journal "Nature Climate Change." 

Cheonggyecheon was specifically designed to handle these rare but destructive flooding events, acting as a corridor to direct water away from buildings, infrastructure and businesses — important in a country that faces a yearly monsoon season. 


Flooding is seen in Mt. Cook, central Wellington, in April.

"You're not just selling it as a daylighting project; it's that you're creating a resilient corridor that happens to have a stream in it," said Farrant. 

"It's abundantly clear now that our cities are not resilient to the current climate, let alone the future climate," he said.

Farrant said it's important to design urban spaces to give room and space for water. "It's about living with water rather than trying to hide it away." 


Healthy people create healthy governance, which creates healthy cities, which creates healthy water and round and round it goes.

Martin Andrews, Kumutoto Restoration Project Lead

Baby steps

Martin Andrews was out walking in Wellington during the 2022 lockdown when he found himself at the only section of the Kumutoto stream that was above ground. He was shocked by what he saw. 

"I just remember the sense of sickness that I felt," he said. 

"I couldn't understand how a city that was built here because of the fresh water, and who needed it to survive, how that city would leave its fresh water to become so unhealthy and so unwell and so sick." 

From then on, Andrews decided he would dedicate his free time to restoring it. He set up a community group called the Kumutoto Restoration Project, and over the past four years, it has grown into a major community initiative. 

His fellow restorer, Micheline Evans, said 60 people came to the latest working bee. "It feels like there's a real groundswell of interest in the stream," she said. 

Today, the stream is in a much healthier state, teeming with freshwater ecosystems and native plants. "It's incredible to see the health of the catchment returning. It feels so different today," said Andrews.  

The Kumutoto stream when Martin Andrews first discovered it in central Wellington in 2022.

Evans and Andrews said there was a "hunger" amongst the Wellington public to learn about the stream.

Robin Skinner of Victoria University said that Wellingtonians feel "cheated" not having a properly daylit stream, which added to the Kumutoto's growing popularity. 

Discussing the Cheonggyecheon project's success, Evans was in awe. "I've got shivers just hearing about it." 

A working bee at the Kumutoto stream in central Wellington.

The pair said the interactive nature of the project created a connection to the Kumutoto, which caused people to inherently care and become informed about urban renewal and restoration in other parts of their lives. 

Cheonggyecheon, they said, shows how that can happen on a much larger scale, creating connections and memories and therefore a sense of caring for a place.

There are case studies all over the world that show taking a more holistic approach to urban development that respects the natural environment and reconnects people with it has widespread benefits, across the board.

Stu Farrant, Ecological Engineer

As Dr. Hwang put it: "This place [Cheonggyecheon] will give us many stories." 

Andrews said projects from the Kumutoto Restoration to Chenggyecheon have a revolving positive effect on society. "Healthy people create healthy governance, which creates healthy cities, which creates healthy water and round and round it goes."


Reconciliation and reconnection

While Wellington's streams remain hidden, and Seoul's shine in the sun, the waters of these two cities still offer a window into shared values, history and lessons. 

Cheonggyecheon offers a blueprint for what is possible on a large scale and proof of a positive outcome in a changing natural climate. 

Most importantly, the two cities' streams highlight how connection to the natural environment can create collective caring, awareness, historical discovery and reconciliation. 

"We've become disconnected from our natural environment, which is what brought us here in the first place, from early Māori explorers to European colonists," said Farrant. "There are case studies all over the world that show taking a more holistic approach to urban development has widespread benefits across the board." 

The headwaters of the Cheonggyecheon as seen in Jongno District, central Seoul, on June 12.

Hwang recalled the rekindling of heritage during his restoration work. "When we restored Cheonggyecheon, we were thinking about restoring the history of Korea," he said.

"Maybe when you restore the streams of Wellington, you may recover some of your own history, your forgotten things. It is an invaluable process, to get [your] history and therefore your self-confidence back." 


BY FERGUS GOODALL SMITH [[email protected]]