North Korea: Day 3 (Monday Morning)

Because of a late night drinking in the hotel bar on Sunday night I decided to skip breakfast and "sleep in" until 7:30. By this point in the trip I had six or seven ulcers in my mouth and I was battling some queasy feelings in my stomach with some medication from Todd. So, as you can imagine, I didn't feel much like eating anyway. I think I can partially blame Beijing's water for the latter problem.

Still, I felt like I could pull through one more day in North Korea. In fact, if it wasn't for my condition, I felt like I could stay for months. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but it seemed like there was still so much to discover. You know, it's not every day an Americans gets in to North Korea.

My group was always the slowest, so our Monday itinerary included stops that the other groups made on the first day. We began by visiting a fountain park near Monsudae Art Theater and the Grand People's Study House. As we got out of the bus, I saw a man cleaning something like a hankerchief in the fountain. I hope that doesn't mean we interrupted his laundry day.





As we drove to our next stop, The Grand Monument on Mansu Hill, our guides prepped us over the bus microphone. We were told that this is a very sacred place for the Korean people and when taking photos of Kim Il Sung's statue, we must capture it fully from the front. And of course, as tempting as it may have been, no imitating the statue's pose or manipulating the photo angle to be holding the statue in our hands, etc.

This is where Austin and I were scolded. Faced in the same direction of Kim, we were observing the skyline of Pyongyang. Interested by the view, we hadn't noticed the rest of our group lining up in front of the statue to present flowers. "Hey! What are you doing," yelled one of our guides.

A couple representatives from our group bought a bouquet of flowers at the bottom of the hill to present to the base of the statue. They appeeared to be "Kimilsungias" and "Kimjongilias", the DPRK showcase flowers. I'm serious.

"Now please bow in respect," our guide instructed. After a moment of silence, we scattered across the barren square with our cameras.



According to book I picked up at the hotel, "President Kim Il Sung's statue takes center stage at the monument. The large flag memorials standing on either side of the statue represent the period of the anti-Japanese revolutionary struggle and the period of socialist revolution and construction. Consisting of 119 sculptures and 109 sculptures, respectively. The sculptural group rise to a height of 5 metres on average."




After our turn with Kim was finished, another group of Koreans earnestly marched forward to take our spot. For their benefit, a man stood at a microphone nearby speaking in a fever pitch about the leader's extraordinary life, his voice dramatically wavering in and out the whole time. Their backs were to me, but I'm sure some tears were shed.



North Koreans seem to be friendly people, but were either too scared or not allowed to speak with us, let alone acknowledge us at times. One evening while Austin and I went out for a stroll with a guide, I noticed all the Koreans looked straight ahead with faces of stone as if Americans hooting and hollering on the streets of Pyongyang is nothing special.

On the other hand, we spent a lot of time returning waves to people (mostly kids) on the street from our tour bus. One time we waved at a couple boys standing on the edge of the road. They ducked down behind a rail and as we turned the corner they popped back out and formed their hands into little guns, pretending to take shots at us! We couldn't help but to laugh.

When we arrived at the Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum there were several military jeeps were parked with hundreds of North Korean soldiers ready to be carted away. This was their chance to take a shot at the yankees. Instead we spent a moment waving back and forth to each other across the square. The same guys we see on the CBS Nightly News marching down the wide soviet-style streets of Pyongyang... waving to me! Man, what a cool vacation.

I always wondered if ordinary people realized that we were Americans. In a country that blames the majority of its ills on the United States and its allies, would it have made a difference? Would people have still waved to us? Or would they have been more like those two boys on the street?

Our guide for this particular war museum was a strict looking military woman.



We were led around several rooms with exhibits and office memos from the 1950s that "proved" the American instigated the Korean War. All I saw was a bunch of routine paperwork that should have been sorted in the circular file decades ago.

One of the exhibits accused the US of biological warfare. In this case dropping insects infected with diseases like cholera on civilians. There were even bottles on display of preserved insects to drive in the point.

Downstairs we were taken past more photos of US soldiers surrendering, confession letters, and destroyed military vehicles. Again -- what a cool vacation.




Our last stop in the war museum was a room at the end of a long staircase. We stood on a slowly revolving platform in the middle of a large circular room. Extensive murals were painted on the walls, giving us the impression that we were in the middle of a victorious battle complete with burning US tanks and jets locked in fatal nosedives, black smoke billowing from their engines. It was pretty cool but could have been better if there had been sound effects of gunfire, explosions and trumpets blasting from hidden speakers.



From outside the museum we had our best view of the Ryugyong Hotel. Construction halted on the 105-story project in 1989. Nobody is quite sure why. Some theories are the elevator shafts had become twisted or the concrete used in construction was of poor quality. Others say the North Koreans flat ran out of money for the project.

I think it is something shameful for the North Koreans. I mean, the Ryugyong owns the Pyongyang skyline and is plainly visible from anywhere in the city, but the guides pretended it wasn't there. In my picture book of Pyongyang, it cannot be seen in one single photo.

But when asked, the guides would insist that the massive hotel would be completed eventually. I won't even touch upon the absurdity of adding a 105-story hotel to the lineup of two other large hotels in a country that sees maybe 3,000 western tourists in a good year.



The Kims are huge film buffs. I couldn't resist picking up a copy of Kim Jong Il: On The Art of The Cinema at the hotel book store. Every restaurant and bar we visited in North Korea played over-dramatic North Korean films. At any given moment the music would be building over some kind of climatic scene. So naturally we were taken to the one (and only?) North Korean film studio. Pyong-e-wood, as my friend Todd quipped. Situated inside the entrance was a fitting bronze statue.

Smile! You're on DPRK's most disturbing home videos!



We were driven past sets that North Korean films often utilize. There was a Japanese occupied Korean street, circa 1930s. Past that, an old Chinese street and a feudal Korean village.





There is another piece of hear'say about North Korea which accuses the Pyongyang Metro of only having two stops, and more so, they only run when foreigners are taken down for tours because of the country's lack of electrical output. It also alleges that all the North Koreans in the stations are actors.

After visiting the stations myself, I can say this too, along with bugged rooms, seems preposterous. As soon as our bus stopped outside we were rushed into the station. No waiting to organize all the "actors". I wanted to buy icecream from a little stand outside but there just wasn't time. I witnessed hundreds of people going in and out. I just can't imagine pulling off an artificial undertaking like that. But then again this is the land of the massly choreographed Mass Games, so I can see how some may disagree.

It was, I admit, apparent that they had been expecting us because we were all waved through the toll booth without tickets. And at the bottom of the esculator, there was a woman behind a table selling English guides to the Pyongyang Metro.




A map of the Pyongyang Metro: Two lines.



We took what could possibly be the world's longest esculator. For minutes we were carried down, deeper and deeper into the Earth. I wondered what would happen if I suddenly lost my balance. It'd be a loooong way down. Soft nationalist music accompanied us on the way down from speakers. Obviously this station was designed to function as a bomb shelter in the case of a nuclear attack.

Sugar, we're goin' down.



Instead of representing actual places, stations are given patriotic names. Examples are Liberation, Unification, and Victory.

The platform was beautiful. I can't get enough of the chandaliers in North Korea. The ones down here were no exception. Painted on the walls were giant murals, one with Kim Il Sung leading the people. But the most fulfilling part of the subway ride was being stuck in the middle of genuine North Korean citizens. It was an actual chance to see them going about their everyday lives.





There's no chance to escape the watchful eyes of the two leaders. Their portraits are even placed in the subway cars. The manufacturer's plate was removed to make room for them. Isn't that just a bit excessive?



Outside the station we could see the Hotel Koryo. A few people in my group wanted to run back to their rooms to grab a jacket. Of course we couldn't just walk the block to the hotel, oh no, we were driven back by our bus driver who drove from the first stop to the second to meet us.




A Pyongyang street scene.



A typical apartment building outside the subway stop. Behind it you can kind of see our hotel.



After stopping at the hotel for a rest we were taken to the Arc of Triumph. We were originally supposed to see it on Saturday but because of time constraints it was squeezed into today's itinerary. The Arc is similar to the one in Paris, but much larger. On the side are inscribed the dates of 1925 to 1945, the years of the struggle against the Japanese occupation.



Nearby was Kim Il Sung stadium and the Kaeson Youth Park.




A picture of a Korean woman fighting off Japanese on the side of the restaurant where we had lunch.



There was a conspiracy that one of our waitresses at this restaurant was also a flight attendant on our plane from Beijing. One of the guys on our tour that could speak Korean had a conversation with her during the flight and insisted it was her. Others recognized her as well. When confronted by one of the guys, she acted suspiciously, only adding to the mystique.

Maybe she was a government agent keeping an eye on us. On top of this, thers even say they saw her photographing us from the back of the plane. But I don't know about that... I'm just not sure what good photographing the back of our heads would be. The whole situation is strange. For more information on all of this check out my friend Austin's blog.

Next: Monday Evening