As we think our trip to the DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea) was quite special, we have both written posts, with slightly different perspectives.
Despite leaving North Korea over four days ago, I have been reluctant to put pen to paper (or more accurately, fingers to keyboard) to compose a blog entry. In short, I am still grappling with trying to develop my own perspective and understanding of this place that is thousands of miles from home, both figuratively and literally.
On the surface, the DPRK is hardly dissimilar to any other city we have visited so far. The middle class citizens of Pyongyang live their lives and go about their daily business, much like I would do in Melbourne. But there are subtle differences. They dress extremely professionally, always corporate, but their outfits lack any hint of colour; black and grey is the norm. They are incredibly self-restrained, showing little or no emotion, their faces are set with serious and focused - almost mechanical - expressions. Technology is not a staple part of the Pyongyang lifestyle. Very few mobile phones exist, no internet, no cameras, and most oddly, no sunglasses (it's interesting what you notice, isn't it?). Children are too scared (or perhaps too bewildered) to wave back at a smiling western tourist, and the absence of laughter and general chitter chatter is deafening. Every resident of Pyongyang wears a badge bearing their leaders' faces on their left lapel, every household has their framed photographs in prime position, and around every corner is another building with their images or another huge statue - the beaming faces of Kim Il Sung and Jong Il are omnipresent and oversee each citizen's every move.
Entering the country by train, we were searched thoroughly at the border, our bags opened and checked, and we had to show all of our technological items such as cameras and phones. The border officials checked the photos on our cameras and we had to show all books we were bringing into the country. GPS cameras are banned. As an example of the type of bureaucracy blanketing the country, we had to scratch the GPS letters off the sides of our cameras before we got to the border, and despite it being very obvious that this is what we'd done, we were still permitted to take the cameras in.
Our tour was excellent and we saw many places, but we were only ever taken to middle class - 'trusted class' - sites. Other classes - the majority of the population - are not ever allowed to enter Pyongyang, and the farmers in the countryside are desperately poor. To be honest, the entire country looks like a time machine from the 1950s, with old fashioned bicycles, rundown dirty concrete buildings, no farming equipment, no technology and virtually no cars. The only piece of advertising I saw in four days, was the Pizza Hut logo on my T-shirt. And of course there was absolutely no mention of the labour camps that we obviously would never be allowed to visit anyway.
We were told when we could and couldn't take photos, when we could and couldn't talk to the locals, and any questions we wanted to ask our guide had to be screened first. We had to use the terms 'DPRK' or 'Korea', because 'North Korea' could be deemed offensive to a government who believes they will very soon see reunification with the south (under their terms of course).
Any time we mentioned Kim Il Sung in conversation, we had to precede it with the word 'President'. Kim Jong Il's title was 'General' and Kim Jong Un was 'Marshall'. To address the three Kims in any other way would have been deemed disrespectful. Any time we visited their statues, we had to bow in unison, and were gently reminded that Koreans would see it as a kind gesture if we were to purchase large bunches of flowers to lay by their feet.
Our itinerary was rigid and inflexible. We were only taken to 'tourist' souvenir shops and 'tourist' restaurants, and were rarely allowed to see how the Korean people really live. Once we stopped to look into a Korean shop window, and our panicked guide urgently hurried us on, telling us that it was 'not a shop for foreigners'. Whatever that means... it was merely selling stuffed toys and children's gadgets.
Having visited the mausoleum of Chairman Mao in Tian'anmen Square only a few days earlier, we felt we were well prepared for our venture to the mausoleum of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. Wrong. We were completely under-prepared for the palava that awaited us. The rules of how we had to behave were incredible: no crossing our arms, no hands in pockets, no leaning on the escalator rail, no loud talking... actually any talking at all was met with frowns of discouragement. We had to bow three times to each Kim's body, as well as to all statues of them, and had to walk in perfect lines of four at all times. It was surreal, and the look on my face must have been priceless. We were not allowed to walk between each area of the mausoleum, and instead had to stand silently on a moving travelator that forced our group to keep a large distance from the group of Korean ladies in traditional dress in front of us. We passed corridor after corridor of giant photographs of the two beaming leaders, which seemingly told an unwritten story. We saw the 358 medals and university degrees of Kim Il Sung, and the 411 of Kim Jong Il. Bright chaps, so I've been told.
In Pyongyang itself, we visited countless monuments, the war museum (including the USS Pueblo which is the DPRK's 'trophy' after capturing it in the 1960s), art gallery, main square, sports precinct, Arch of Triumph, Juche tower and the birthplace of Kim Il Sung. We travelled on the Pyongyang metro train system (only five stops as per the government's permission for western tourists), where the trains are very old, imported from East Berlin.
Despite me ranting on about the DPRK's infinite rules and restrictions, there was, in fact, one occasion where we were free to mingle with the local people. On May Day (May 1st) we visited two parks and saw the only relaxed atmosphere of the whole trip. Being a day off for workers, people were having picnics, singing and dancing and having what looked to be great time. In one park we could walk around unsupervised, and we bought fairy floss and went on a (very old fashioned) roller coaster. We paid for the fairy floss with a 10 Chinese Yuan note (equivalent to $2) and received 10,000 Korean Won in return (equivalent to $160), such is the muddled exchange rate in North Korea.
In the other park we had to stay with the group the entire time and the minute we paused we were urgently herded along like sheep. In some parts we could join in the singing and dancing. One of our group members got a bit excited and while dancing, tore up some blank notepad paper he had and threw the scrunched up balls into the crowd. Suddenly a whistle blew and what looked like an undercover policeman dived on the woman who caught the paper and there was a bit of panic. Perhaps the paranoia was that the paper contained western literature, but it seemed the people were being watched, even on their day off.
We went to a place called 'The Children's Palace', where middle class children enroll in after-school activities. The same notion exists in Australia, and in fact, all over the world. The only difference is that in Pyongyang, the children participate in their activity five days a week, for three hours every day. We saw dancing classes, accordion playing, embroidering, calligraphy and more. The children were honestly brilliant and so so talented, but I can't help but wonder how they feel about dedicating 15 hours a week to the same pursuit. There was silence, no giggling, no eye contact, nothing... just complete concentration and focus on the task at hand, with some very fierce teachers patrolling on the periphery.
Some of the less likely pursuits we engaged in while in North Korea were pistol shooting, tenpin bowling, a fun fair (where a power blackout saw rollercoaster riders suspended mid air for a period of time), karaoke and significant alcohol consumption. In terms of the cuisine, it was incredibly bland, with no spices, and if I am completely honest, no taste at all. Barbecuing our own meat was commonplace, and we ate substantial portions of duck, pork and beef. There was always far too much food on the tables, and it resonated to me how hard the Korean people were trying to impress foreign tourists, as much of the country is experiencing food shortages and famine (the brown barren fields we drove past in the countryside attest to this).
Standing on the border in the DMZ (de-militarised zone) and looking across the minefields into South Korea was sobering. Most tourists do so from the opposite side of the border, and I felt privileged to be able to stand where the armistice was signed. I still cannot quite fathom how two countries can still share so much disunity.
Brilliantly, we had the opportunity to visit the Unesco World Heritage listed site of Kaesong University, claimed by Korea to be the oldest in the world. This may be true, however their other claims to fame (such as being the first country to invent spoons), meant we perhaps took the information with a grain of salt. The farms we saw along the two hour drive were all so poor. No machinery, only a handful of oxen, brown dirty fields with almost no crops, and people doing backbreaking work even in the pouring rain. Children worked alongside the adults even on weekdays, despite our guide telling us that ten years of education was compulsory for children.
My take on North Korea? I have no idea at all. I've left with more questions than when I arrived, and definitely less certainty. I have not a clue of what to make of the negative press and controversial media reports which make their way out of the country and which are devoured by the rest of the world. My observations have proven that the people of the DPRK live incredibly different lives to me, but who am I to try to be the holier-than-thou judge of their level of happiness. I do hope, however, that one day, when the regime falls and the real Korea is revealed, any injustices are dealt with and the common people do not suffer. It makes me realise how lucky we are to have the lives we have.
So, after visiting three dead communists in the space of a week, we are now taking a break from the red saturation, and are now on the trans-Mongolian railway bound for Ulan Bator, with our sights on the trail of the ghost of Genghis Khan.
Richard writes:
Wow. What an experience. Our jaunt into the secretive Stalinist state had been put on a pedestal as a probable highlight of the trip, and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea didn't disappoint. The DPRK delivered bizarre and unique experiences in spades and proved to be what will probably be the most action packed four days of our entire journey.
In so many ways I was surprised at what we found, and I immediately realised that so much of what we hear through the western media is exaggerated. The people aren't robots, they have humour, they don't all have the same haircut and they like a drink. It was also clear that locals we happy to interact with us, whether it be waving to us from the farms as the train passed by, or to approach us, to generously give us ice creams in the park. I also felt confident that what we were seeing was not staged. It is true the sights that were saw were carefully selected and that we were rarely able to escape the gaze of the DPRK guides, but what we saw seemed very real with real people going about their daily lives around us. During our time in the DPRK (especially in Pyongyang), we must have seen several thousand locals, be it on the underground train network, at theme parks or during May Day celebrations. Even the most ardent conspiracy theorist would have found it impossible to argue that all the people we saw were actors, placed to give us as tourists a positive image of the country.
I was also surprised at how much fun I had in the DPRK. I rode two roller coasters (one old and rickety and an uber modern superman one), I drank more alcohol than the rest of our entire trip so far, sang several karaoke songs (including American Pie, which with hindsight was an odd choice!), played table tennis, fired an air pistol at a firing range and went ten pin bowling. All these activities seemed available to Pyongyang locals too. It was clear that North Koreans have plenty of practice at table tennis as the barmaid at the hotel effortlessly thrashed us westerners between serving drinks.
It might seem that I have painted a picture of a modern fun loving hedonist's paradise, with little of the political control that is normally portrayed. If this is the picture I have painted, read on, as I am now about to tear up that canvas and put my paintbrush to work, to reflect the other side of the DPRK we experienced.
The DPRK countryside looks like how I imagine the British countryside looked in the 1850s, with armies of people cultivating the land with only the aid of an ox. Modern farming machinery was almost non-existent. It is not difficult to see why the country relies upon food aid so heavily, when trying to feed 20 million people with such primitive methods. It is also clear that a wide variety of food stuffs is simply not available. In an apparent effort to prove to us that food was not scarce, our restaurant tables were always filled to the brim with food (more than we could eat), but the food almost always lacked flavour.
The first time we saw farm land was almost as soon as passing over the border from China. I could only wonder what the Koreans made of the modern Chinese skyscrapers in Dandong that are clearly visible from the DPRK, a world away from the lives and dwellings of those living in rural North Korea.
Pyongyang, several hours from the border, was certainly more advanced than the farms, but was in so many ways backward compared to a modern capital city. The buses looked slightly ramshackled, the buildings were concrete and lifeless and at night the city was still dark as the dim lights barely radiated out of the small tower block windows. Electricity is clearly a precious commodity and certainly not reliable. Restaurants lights frequently flickered, we visited a museum completely in the dark and when arriving at a theme park the power completely failed leaving thrill seekers marooned mid-ride!
The cult of personality as a system of rule, developed so well under Stalin in the Soviet Union, is certainly alive and kicking in the DPRK. The advance of technology and communications makes this system almost impossible in the modern world. The DPRK's solution to this; deny the people access to technology and information. On entry into the DPRK we had to declare all electronic devices (to check we still had them when we left) and all books were checked to ensure we were not planning to distribute information. This paranoia was evident as we toured, where we were regularly told what we could photograph and what we couldn't. Once arriving back at our hotel we were told under no circumstances were we to leave the grounds. We, like the locals had to show love and devotion to leaders past and present. Wherever we stopped at a statue or portrait of President Kim Il Sung, General Kim Jong Il or the current leader Marshall Kim Jung Un, we had to bow to pay our respects. Everybody in Pyongyang walked with pins on their jackets displaying portraits of the leaders and there are portraits on all significant buildings across the city of the two deceased communist leaders.
The most spectacular display of leadership through cult of personality was at the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun, the Mausoleum of the deceased "Kimmies". We had been informed before the tour that it would be closed, but if we had been able to go, formal attire was required to ensure we adequately showed respect to the dead dudes that had previously ruled the country in dictatorial fashion. Having had the memo regarding its closure, hardly anybody brought with them the correct clothes. No jeans were allowed, and certainly no shorts, so when on the evening before May Day we were informed we were going, panic ensued. On meeting in the hotel foyer the next morning, our tour group's efforts looked hilarious. Many of the guys were wearing ill-fitting borrowed trousers, including one guy who was wearing a pair of women's trousers! I went down a slightly different route of wearing the ever fashionable combination of a smart shirt with tracksuit pants and a belt. I looked a mess, but I wasn't in shorts or jeans, and most importantly I got in, to what was an incredible display of decadence, waste, propaganda and above all a theatrical display of the power of state and cult of leaders.
On entry we were thoroughly searched and not allowed to take anything inside. The next step was to have the underneath of our shoes cleaned before travelling for what seemed several kilometres on travelators whilst staring at pictures of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il in various poses with tractors, computers, factories etc (to display how adavanced the North is, even though we saw no evidence they have such things). Next we arrived in a huge hall with two massive statues of the previous leaders at the end. We lined up and bowed, before moving on to where President Kim Il Sung's body lies in state. Before entry we travelled through a weird tunnel thing that blows powerful jets of air onto you (with no given reason as to why, all just part of the theatre). We entered the vast hall where his body lies draped in a red flag, with just his head and shoulders visible. Four people at a time bow at his feet, and each side of him, but not for some reason his head (I nearly made this faux pas, but managed to successfully cover up my mistake). After paying our respects we then entered a room that displays the numerous awards and achievements bestowed on the great leader, before entering further rooms that show the modes of transport he travelled in, his Mercedes, his private train and even a private boat (all whilst still inside the mausoleum). We then went through deja vu and did EXACTLY the same thing for Kim Jong Il. Seven bows later, which involved leaning forward for a lengthy period of time, my back was feeling the strain, but it was all worthwhile to experience the sheer theatre of the mausoleum.
The whirlwind four days in the DPRK has provided me with one of the most interesting travel experiences of my life. As to whether I have any greater understanding of the country, I am actually probably more confused. I do know however, that I had an absolutely fantastic time and met some great likeminded people from around the world and it will be a trip I never forget. If the regime ever does fall, I will be desperate to return and to ask North Koreans what they really thought about the regime, as this is the question I am desperate to know the answer to, but never had any hope of gaining an understanding of whilst visiting.
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