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North Korea
August 1989
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Juche Tower, one of Pyongyang's many monuments. |
Having just completed my Yangtze River cruise and the adventure on the Shennong River, I stopped briefly in Beijing to obtain my visa for North Korea. Then it was off to Beijing Station and the 4:45pm train to Pyongyang, North Korea. I was not really excited at all, more tired than anything, and the more so when I rechecked my itinerary. I had ridden the Peking-Moscow International train on four previous occasions, so was familiar with the basic trip. This time, however, I found it was to be a full twenty-three hour ride in a four-berth compartment, to be shared with three Korean residents of China and a six-year-old child.
Our one-hour-and-twenty-minute stop on the China side of the border turned into two hours and twenty minutes. The Chinese run the train on daylight-saving time, but Korea stays on standard time, so the train had an extra hour to fill before our cars proceeded across the bridge into North Korea. The Yalu River separates the two countries at this point. On the Korean side, the customs and immigration procedure was to complete a simple standard form. The officer merely asked me to show my camera and video, after which I was instructed to proceed with the others to the waiting room. This was to be my first view of North Korea and it was a surprising one. The waiting room was spotlessly clean.
The train then continued the three hours to Pyongyang through rural farming country similar to that of China. The crops were not only rice, but field after field of corn, with soybeans planted along the edges.
We pulled into Pyongyang, and I was amazed. I have only one way to describe the city – a Walt Disney Theme Park, without the rides. It seemed like every building exterior and every window was polished every day. Not a piece of scrap paper or a particle of dust was left on the streets or sidewalks. Even the people, spotlessly clean and meticulously dressed, seemed a part of this theme park, the only difference being that this park appeared to host very few visitors each day. Unlike in China where in the heat of summer shorts are very much the attire of men, it seemed to be unheard of here.
The Koryo Hotel has a vast modern lobby, but the spectacular lobby fountains were not operational, nor were the great crystal chandeliers above illuminated. My room was extremely modern and spotlessly clean, so much so I never did locate a wastebasket. Fortunately, I had brought along plastic garbage bags from Japan. The bath was large, even by U.S. hotel standards. It was a prefabricated bathroom unit of the Japanese company Toto. I noticed much of modern Pyongyang operating with Japanese built equipment. The hotel computers were Japanese, the heating and cooling units Yamatake/Honeywell, the refrigerator made by Sharp, the TV a Sony, and the telephone by Oki.
The first morning saw the usual 8”:00am breakfast of eggs, sausage, coffee, and more. Then came a tour of the monuments and buildings in Pyongyang, of which the Koreans are so rightly proud. Atop the great torch monument, built in celebration of the eightieth birthday of the Great President Kim Il Sung, I saw a panoramic view of the city. The glass flame above is illuminated at night and can be seen from almost everywhere in the city. It was very surprising to me that hardly a word was mentioned about the Russians or Chinese who fought beside the North in the early-fifties War. There is one modest (by Pyongyang standard) monument in the city to honor the Chinese soldiers, but even this was pointed out only in passing. Pyongyang has its own Arc de Triomphe, even larger than the one in Paris. Broad boulevards, six-and eight-lanes wide, flow through the city, and one is able to move great distances in a very short time due to the few cars or buses on the avenue.
At times on some streets there was not a vehicle in sight. Bicycles were definitely out here in Pyongyang. Public transport was scant enough to create long lines at bus stops, making one’s own legs the real means of transport. At every intersection of the city, however, stood a rigidly straight traffic controller in her blue skirt and white blouse. At night her baton glowed red as the traffic moved to its beat.
I took a ride on the subway system which crisscrosses the city in a simple east-west, north-south pattern. The subway is drilled around 130 meters (426 feet) under the city. High-speed escalators rush you down and up, but even then it takes time to traverse such a long distance. In the three-car trains, most commuters are able to sit down, unlike in Japan where in some stations “pushers” are used to squeeze everyone in. Station platforms are decorated like grand theater lobbies, with crystal chandeliers and grand murals, a great expense for visual pleasure.
I kept feeling someone else ;must be paying for this splendor. There was no industry visible in or near the city, not a farm wagon to be seen, and only the occasional foreign group of tourists, and those quite small, not busloads, but more like five to ten people in a group. Most seemed to be connected with universities or were Koreans who lived in Japan. There was also the occasional European businessman. I could see no way the citizens of this city could have paid for all the splendor. The peasants in the countryside and money flowing in from the overseas Koreans living in Japan must certainly havde financed most of this.
My hotel was completed in 1985 but seemed to have opened only a short time ago. So clean and quiet, with so few guests, it must not have been difficult to keep it so. There was a sopping center off the lobby, and others could be found about the city in other hotels and places foreigners tend to gather. These sold foreign cigarettes, chocolates, and all kinds of Scotch whisky and cognac. The Japanese taste was apparent, as all products were those cherished in Japan such as high-class brandy, the new dry beers, and soft drinks, including the latest Calpis flavored drink.
Outside Pyongyang is an eighteen-hole golf course. I asked one of the businessmen in the hotel how it rated. I was told it was very well designed, and had rental clubs and shoes available. The total charge was about U.S.$70 per day. There’s a story about this golf course. The Koreans boast that Kim Jung Il (the new leader and divinity) can play the eighteen holes in a record breaking sixty! To which an American economist quipped that Kim ought to join the U.S. golf circuit as, with scores like that, he could quickly earn enough to pay off North Korea’s national debt.
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A trip highlight: an evening at the circus in Pyongyang. |
I lookes forward to an evening visit to Pyongyang’s newest acrobatic theater. The mechanics of the stage were overwhelming with a sinking stage, a water filled, Olympic sized pool, and an ice rink. The performance, however, was less than impressive. The shows in China and the U.S.S.R. are much superior. To be fair, I can only assume that the show in the older and smaller theater would have been better, or that the best troupes were traveling abroad.
I was up at 4:45am the next day to catch the 6:00am train to Mount Myohyang, a three and-a-half-hour ride. I’ll bet you’ve never ridden on your own private train before! Yes, my guide and I were the only two passengers aboard this special train that leaves each morning from Pyongyang. There were two deluxe coaches and a dining car. The cooks prepared a feast for the two of us for breakfast, including delicious crepes.
Our morning tour was to the International Friendship Exhibition. I would never have bothered if I had known what is was. This is a vast, climate-controlled, six-story building containing the gifts given to President Kim Il Sung ;by various officials and visitors to North Korea over the years: so many clocks, Cross fountain pens, ashtrays, and the like! Only the large main entrance display is worth a glance for its excellent porcelain pieces and embroidery work from China. We spent two hours and then took a break for lunch.
Bo Hyan Buddhist Temple complex was on our afternoon schedule, and then the Chen Chun River and it’s Manpo Water Falls. Manpo means ten thousand, and a wonderful climb it is, up thousands and thousands of steps carved into the solid stone cliffs and boulders along the river. I have to be honest and say I quit after an hour or more of straight-up climbing. Perspiration rolled off me until my clothes were soaked and even my glasses were steamed over. I climbed and filmed and climbed more, until I was truly exhausted. The guide inquired from some folks headed down, and when I found we had gone only halfway, I decided to leave the full climb to the top until the next opportunity. The 7:00pm train arrived back in Pyongyang at 10:30, and I was nearly midnight before I finally made it to bed. Yes, I slept the night through.
My third day brought a tour of the Museum of Korean History, from primitive times through 1919, when the Japanese occupation began. The guide was superb, spoke fluent English, and made the time spent so very fascinating. She was also talented. Not only did she relate to us the history of ancient bronze and marble musical instruments, she picked up the stick and actually played them. I was sorry when the museum tour ended.
We could have skipped the Study House, a huge library with study rooms. However, the Koreans are certainly proud of it. Thus, I was presented with the full tour. But how’s this for a typical lunch: a salad of sliced pepperoni salami, sliced pickles, boiled egg, cold peas, and mayonnaise. And there was more: light, crisp, deep-fried fish filet, kimchi, sliced sautéed beef, sliced bamboo shoots, hamburger patty with a fried egg on top, excellent bread rolls and butter. For drinks, there was either ice cold mineral water or beer.
The afternoon proved very fascinating, with a visit to a junior high school. It was to open for the new school year the fist of September, but there were many students taking optional summer classes and making preparations for the opening. The vice-principal took me on a grand tour of the school: an English class, a Russian class, computer science, physics, electrical engineering, swimming, table tennis, embroidery, and chemistry classes. Finally we paid a visit to the music club, where I enjoyed a special private performance. There was a soloist first, then an accordion piece, and next a small choir sang for me – a full twenty-minute private musical performance. I was thrilled.
Our train to Kaesong, the city nearest the border with South Korea, was to leave at midnight, so I was anxious to return to the hotel for a quick dinner and a short nap. On the way back, however, the guide announced that he had been very fortunate to obtain special tickets to that evening’s performance of the Pyongyang Opera. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had told him I wanted to see everything possible, and this was his way of seeing that I would not be disappointed. So a quick change of film, a new video cartridge and batteries, and off we went to the 6pm show.
It was a sterling performance. Not only was the staging superb, so were the acting and the costumes. Best of all, they flashed a translation onto a screen on the wall to the left of the stage, so I was able to follow the whole performance in English. It was truly an enjoyable and entertaining evening. I hade expected a hard –core Communist worker’s story, but was surprised to find that the program for the evening was an old Korean folk tale of love between a nobleman and a prostitute’s daughter. Naturally, it ended with “and they all lived happily ever after!”
By the time we returned to the hotel and had finished dinner, it was 10:00pm, time to be off to the train station. The trip from Pyongyang to Kawsong is a six hour train ride. Two special deluxe sleepers were attached to the back of the “people’s” train, four berths to each compartment. There were many others boarding at Pyongyang, including two small Japanese groups of about nine people each, two young Dutch ladies who were sisters and two small groups of Eastern Europeans.
I fell fast asleep as soon as we boarded. The departure was an hour late, so I thought we would have an extra hour’s sleep in the morning. The train made up the time, however, and we arrived just on schedule. We transferred to the local hotel, and I was given a room, told to have breakfast, and then wait in the room until the security clearance had been given for me to visit the Demilitarized Zone, known as the DMZ.
At 9:30am, we left the hotel in two cars. Ahead of me were the two Dutch sisters and their guide. We stopped at a check-point at the DMZ fence, 2 kilometers (1.2 miles) from the actual line that divides North Korea from South Korea. There is the same aount of space on the other side of the DMZ. Within the DMZ area, farmers work the fields, but no weapons are allowed. I can assure you it is a very strange feeling to be driving toward the border through this area. At the checkpoint, a red flag was attached to the radio antenna of each car. We were also given a short briefing and shown a model of the terrain and the sentry stations, as well as the Panmunjon building layout.
The 4-kilometer (2.4-mile) DMZ stretches across Korea at the thirty-eighth parallel of latitude, dividing North Korea from its southern sister. At the area known as Panmunjon are the buildings used for meetings of the Military Armistice Commission, composed of North Korean and United Nations command representatives. Another building is for the Neutral Nations Supervisory Commission. The dividing line was an outcome of the Yalta Conference in 1945, when Russia and the United States agreed to divide the Korean Peninsula into occupation zones.
A lead car preceded our two cars. In ours, I was joined by a personal bodyguard. It then took only a few minutes to arrive at the site and the North Korean building standing two stories high. We walked into the building, and I was advised that as we proceeded to the front, directly facing the U.S. soldiers on the opposite side, they would surely photograph me. Did I agree to this? Yes, I agreed. We calked down the steps and right into the building used for the negotiations. I sat down at the very same table used for the continuing armistice talks. Not only that, but even though a row of microphones and connecting wired marked the line that divides North from South, I was encouraged to go ahead and step across it. There is an agreement when tourists from the opposite side enter the building, the other side stays out. So, though I was told the South never permits anyone to step across the line for the fear of being suddenly captured, the North Koreans encouraged me to walk all around the room
I stood on the steps leading down from the guest area and while I took photos of the dividing line there, only some 10 meters (30 feet) on the opposite side, stood U.S. military personnel looking at me through binoculars and photographing me through a big telephoto lens. There are no South Korean guards on the other side, only American; yet on the North Korea side, there are only North Korean soldiers. Therefore, the North Koreans used this example to tell us we could see with our own eyes that the Americans are occupying South Korea. No matter the truth, it does seem strange and makes it easy for the North to make their point. Just as we arrived, so did a group from South Korea. They stood on the viewing platform on their side taking photos of us, while we photographed them.
Then it was back to Kaesong, and on to the Sung Gunwan Confucian Temple which displays some fine Korean artifacts.
After lunch, and a lucky break to take a two-hour nap, we made a visit to the tombs of the thirty first king of the Koryo Dynasty and his wife. They sit atop a knoll north of the city and are unique in that, contrary to custom, since the wife died first, the King himself designed both tombs and, in fact, painted the interior scenes.
History tells of the King requesting astrologers to determine the most ideal place for the tomb. As each one failed to satisfy the King, we was put to death. At last, this site was selected by still another astrologer, and it was arranged that the King would stand atop a nearby hill to survey the site. If no special sign appeared, it would prove acceptable. The King surveyed the site, and in his great excitement at finding the perfect location, raised his hands. The soldiers thought it a sign of displeasure and killed the unfortunate astrologer.
Here I saw the countryside of North Korea. This is a world away from the striking monuments ;of Pyongyang and the soaring roofs of the stadiums and towering hotels. The great shining apartments blocks of modern architecture, with geranium baskets on the balconies, are not even in the wildest dreams of these peasants working the fields. To one side was a pair of oxen and a plow with a farmer behind. In another place, two men pulled a wooden plowshare with a woman guiding from behind. In this place I saw true “manual” labor and ox carts precariously moving along the side of the road with huge wooden wheels so fragile, that I wondered how they kept from collapsing. Did these people know of the soft life in Pyongyang? Even Kaesong was dusty, and the trees along the roads and in the parks had lost their gree due to the powder of fine dust. Surely, this was a forgotten part of President Kim Il Sung’s world of “juche”, or paradise through self-reliance.
I joked – our driver must have been a jet fighter pilot, for our car careened through the streets to and from the DMZ with the speed of a jet. I told my guide that this surely must be a new weapon the U.S. and South Koreans didn’t know about yet. It can kill thirty to forty people in one quick drive through town.
We left at 6:00pm for our return to Pyongyang. The next day was my departure and I was not looking forward to a 12:40am arrival in Pyongyang. I would be a short night, and we had further touring the next morning before my noon flight. The train pulled out right on schedule, but two hours short of Pyongyang we hit a snag. Engine trouble ground us to a full stop. As the line is single-tracked, southbound trains also stopped. It was not until 4:45am that we pulled into Pyongyang Station and made the five-minute walk to the hotel At 5:00am, I turned off the light, having set the alarm for 7:00am. It would be a short night indeed! |
