After lunch we were taken to the Korean Workers Party monument. Built on the 50th anniversary of the party's founding, the monument consists of a giant hammer, sickle, and paintbrush which represent workers, farmers, and intellectuals; the three classes in North Korean society.
As our guide was explaining aspects like height and construction details, we were distracted by a large group of kids marching past us, singing loudly in unison. "What are they singing about," we asked.
The first guide said she wasn't paying attention. Now, come on. Everyone could hear these kids -- they passed right by us and could only be singing about one of two things: Kim Senior or Kim Junior. We had to know which one. Finally the other confirmed our suspicions. She said they were singing about the General Kim Jong Il. Tomorrow would be his father, I assume.
"Long Live the Workers' Party of Korea, the Organizer and Guide of All Victories of the Korean People!"
An engraving in the interior of the monument.
Next would be the final socialist monument of our tour: The Tower of The Juche Idea. The Juche idea was developed by Kim Il Sung during his fight against the Japanese. It goes that man is master of the world and of his destiny and emphasizes the value of self-reliance. Critics say Juche was developed simply as an excuse for North Korea to isolate itself from the world. Whice motive is it? You decide!
The moment our bus stopped the guides gleefully alerted us of a wedding party in the tower. We all stormed out with cameras, thrilled at this special opportunity to see North Korean culture up close. But the wedding party didn't share our enthusiasm.
I wonder if being surrounded by American imperialists on your wedding day is a bad omen?
While waiting for our elevator, I asked one of the guides if she knew where Kim Jong Il lived. I was hoping to see his castle or whatever from the top of the tower. She said she didn't, it's a secret. Apparently there's no "White House" in Pyongyang. Or they don't want to give Americans directions to his home.
There were seven floors in all. Every floor but the top was a little lounge with janitorial supplies, our guides said. The two bottom floors were marked with Japanese katakana figures of "ne" and "fu". Interesting.
From the top we were treated to a wonderful view of the city.
Yanggakto Hotel in background.
After a few minutes of fresh air, we returned to the base of the monument. Covering the walls were plaques donated by various Juche study groups around the world. Our guide proudly pointed out a couple from America dated to the 70s and a few people in our group chuckled. "What's funny," our guide naively asked. I felt kind of bad for her so I asked something to move things forward. "Is this Juche study group comprised of Koreans living abroad or white Americans," I asked. White Americans, she said.
Who are these people?
The tower is built with some 25,500 bricks representing each day in Kim Il Sung's life upto his 70th birthday, when the tower was unveiled in 1982. The bricks, the height, the width -- every bit of this tower is symbolic in some way. The guide confirmed that the tower was designed by Kim Jong Il.
The Tower of The Juche Idea with statue in front, facing East.
After a few minutes of looking around, we were hurried back onto the bus. We waved the guide goodbye and headed onto the USS Pueblo.
"Do you feel strange seeing this ship?" our guide asked from the front of the bus. One of the guys yelled back, "We're here to take it back!" It was charming, the relationship we were building with our guides -- surreal. And it was obvious that this would indeed be one of the strangest sites in a series of a bunch.
We were lead around the tiny corriders by the ship's guide, one of four men who boarded the Pueblo during its capture 37 years ago.
Lacking any English skills, to find out how many sailors were aboard the ship, he explained, he drew a picture of a nose and a question mark (apparently Americans have big noses). Somehow the captain of the Pueblo understood this and responded by writing "83."
Inside, we watched a video about the capture of the Pueblo and the events that followed.
The narrator first gave backstory about the 1866 massacre of the USS General Sherman, a trade ship that got stuck in the Taedong river, and how Kim Il Sung's great-grandfather (who else?) lead the "fight" that lead to the hacking death of all aboard.
Fast forward a little to 1968 when the USS Pueblo, "a spy ship of the American imperialists" was captured. The crew was held in North Korea for exactly 11 months before being released. According to the video, the Americans got on their knees to apologize and proclaimed that they were treated "much better than they deserved."
The video gave a step by step overview of the negotiations. Each time the focus switched back to the US government the music would swell in villionous undertones like a Disney movie and a freeze frame of President Lyndon Johnson's face was magnified, skewed into some ugly shape.
Near the end, we were shown the American sailors being sent home. As they walked to seperate cars the narrator proudly gloated, "Watch the US imperialists walk down hill."
As our guide explained afterwards, the North Koreans hold the ship as a trophy. They see this event as one of their proudest accomplishments. Yet to us, it's merely a footnote in history.
Me posing with the guide, also an Admiral (retired?) of the North Korean Navy.
We arrived 20 minutes late to the performence at the Childrens Palace. "Kim Jong Il regards children as the royalty of my country," the guide explained. When we arrived, children were dancing on stage to the live music. We witnessed a choreographed fight scene between some boys that could have been pulled out of West Side Story. The smaller boy overcame the others and swung an impressive number of hula hoops around in victory. A band of children came out playing an assortment of instruments including accordians. It was like a microism of the Mass Games and no doubt many of the kids participated in both.
We had dinner aboard another boat on the Taedong river. A toast was had on behalf of the new friendship between us and our guides. Chukbae!
After dinner some of the group returned to the May Day Stadium for a second viewing of the Mass Games. The rest of us returned to the stamp shop nearby the hotel. On the way some super eerie music was blasted over the city from a loudspeaker. One of the other guys nailed it when he said, "It sounds like a haunted ice cream truck."
We all huddled around the counter paying for anti-American stamps in our various currencies. I can't imagine what it was like for the clerks to witness Americans buying sheets and sheets of stamps depicting North Korean soldiers stabbing GIs with bayonets and sign posts.
Back at the hotel, I wrote some postcards out to family and friends in the lobby. I talked with one of the guides. It turned out he had an elderly mother. "What does your mother do?" I asked. She reads the newspaper and watches TV all day. Sounds like an American -- we're not so different after all. Our bus driver joined us and took a look at my new stamps. We shared a laugh when it hit him what the stamps represented. We're not like that, he tried to explain. Then we shook hands in friendship.
Having returned from the second Mass Games, Austin joined and we had a walk together with one of the guides outside.
Take us to your home, we kept pleading with him. He said he lived nearby and for a moment it seemed like he may actually follow through, but when we got about a block from the hotel he led us back. "You have no money," I think he was saying, but neither of us was sure because his English was mediocre. We probably would have paid it if so.
I spent the rest of my final evening looking for the Japanese restaurant in the hotel. I asked one of the hotel staff. "Top floor," he told me. I went up, but could only find the revolving restaurant. Another hotel staff at the top told me to look in the basement. "Are you Japanese," he asked. I never did find the place.
Next: Tuesday Morning
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