Posted by Heliocentrism on July 18, 2014
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Better cold than dead
The Kaesong Folk Hotel was horrible, though some people did enjoyed their stay. I think it depended on which room you got. I already told you about our bathroom.
The hotel is advertised as being a traditional Korean experience. I’ve stayed in a traditional Korean village, this was nothing like that. First off, the ondol was the main feature of the hotel room; the thing that gave the place its authenticity. This ondol ran on electricity! …and it was plugged into the wall. Every apartment and house in South Korea has an electric (or gas) ondol right now. This is not traditional or old-timey. I lived with one for 2 years. (In case you don’t know what an ondol is, it’s a heating system that runs under the floor. Instead of having a radiated heater, or a ventilation heater, you heat the floors.)
Real traditional Korean guesthouses would have wood burning ondols and little chimneys on the side. But, this was just a minor issue. I really didn’t care about the ondol running on electricity. What I had a problem with, was that the cord that ran from the ondol to the electrical socket was damaged. The rubber on the cord was torn and disintegrating and the wires were exposed.
It was a cold night and Vera and I thought through our options. We could plug it in, stay warm during the night, and risk waking up in a blaze of fire. Or we could freeze a bit and definitely wake up the next day un-electrocuted and un-barbequed. We put on extra socks and t-shirts and chose not the plug in the ondol.
I felt bad for Vera. The ondol is the most fabulous thing. In the winter in Seoul I would do a load of laundry, wash my floors, then lay all my clothes on the floor. The ondol would have my clothes dry in an hour’s time. Coming from Japan where there is no such thing as a good heating system, I wanted Vera to experience the wonder that is the ondol. It keeps the room so nicely warm and because the floor is where the heat comes from, there’s no need to wear socks.
The drive the day before from Pyongyang took a long time. We didn’t get to Kaesong until about 9:00pm so we didn’t eat dinner until late. We were very hungry on the bus, but hardly anyone had snacks with them. There was a pair of twins who had curry flavored beef jerky and fruit candy from China. They generously shared their treats and everyone loved the fruit things; the jerky, not so much.
So, in the morning I headed to the souvenir shop for snacks for the ride back to Pyongyang. I walked in and greeted the shop keeper in Korean. She was very friendly. She asked me where I was from and I replied, “미국입니다 (I’m American).” Then she asked me something else, but I had reached the limits of my Korean.
She didn’t seem to care. I had spoken a little Korean, so she continued talking to me in Korean. She asked where I had learned Korean and I told her, “서울. 이년. (Seoul. 2 years.)” “Seoul?” As she was thinking about Seoul I spotted a jar of gochujang. “Gochujang,” I exclaimed. “맛있다? (Is it delicious?)” This was all the Korean I knew.
“Yes, it’s delicious. Made in Kaesong.” She told me the price and I bought it. But I couldn’t eat gochujang as a snack. I asked her about what snacks she had. This took a while, because I did not have the vocabulary at all. Eventually she showed me some ginseng jelly candy. It didn’t sound like anything I wanted.
She opened the package and handed me one of the cubes. Then she gave one to Vera. Vera liked it and bought a pack. I didn’t think it tasted bad, so I bought some too. I got one pack for me and 2 packs as omiyage for my co-workers. (Once I was back in Japan the ginseng jelly candy didn’t taste as good as it did in Korea. My co-workers hardly touched the stuff, preferring instead to sample the fruit candy I got them from China.)
Next I asked the lady for water, a word I know in Korean. She pointed me to where it was. As I picked up a couple bottles, I noticed some chocolate bars. They had Russian writing on them. There were only 4 of them. I bought one and announced to everyone else that there were chocolate bars for sale. The rest of the bars were sold out shortly afterwards.
We had breakfast at the hotel; rice, Korean omelets, vegetables, and… duck. Afterwards we packed up our stuff and put it on the bus. We were still waiting for everyone when I saw several guys from our group walking out the gates. I didn’t know we were allowed to leave the hotel gates, but since they were doing it I followed.
We didn’t go far. There wasn’t much to see other than the poster at the top of this post. We all snapped photos of that and a couple other shots of the area. Then Ms. Lee came running after us. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” We had taken photos of people and that was a big no-no.
I was a bit confused. We took many photos of random people on the streets of Pyongyang. How was this different? But, rather than say anything, I slinked back through the gates and boarded the bus. I put away my camera and sat there quietly waiting for the bus to start moving. One or two people deleted their photos, but they were not asked to.
You like that?
The first stop on today’s tour was at a propaganda poster and stamp shop. This place was amazing. This was where everyone in our group spent most of their money. Some bought posters, some bought books of posters, others bought stamps or stamp books. I bought postcards.
I wanted to get a postcard for all my friends and family back home, but I also wanted to mail the postcards from North Korea. That meant that I could only get postcards for people whose addresses I had memorized or written in the notebook I keep with me. If I had internet access I would have gotten so many more postcards.
I picked out 6 postcards. I would send one to my mom, one to my brother, one to my sister, and three to Mark. I went over to the counter and asked for stamps, but the lady there spoke no English. I called Ms. Lee over and asked her to translate.
Ms. Lee – “What do you want?”
me – “I would like to buy some stamps? Do they sell stamps for mailing here?”
Ms. Lee – “Yes they do. What are you going to mail?”
me – “These postcards.” I showed her my postcards.
Ms. Lee – “You want to mail these? Where will you send them?”
me – “These to the US and these to Japan.”
Ms. Lee looked at one of the postcards with a Japanese soldier being bayoneted.
Ms. Lee – “Are you sure you want to send this to Japan? Won’t you like one with Korean flowers instead?”
me – “No. These are better!”
The sales lady opened a book filled with stamps. They had many propaganda stamps. Some had the same pictures as the postcards. I picked out my stamps. The lady at the counter asked where I was from. “미국입니다 (I’m American),” I said as I paid for my stuff. She looked at my purchase and shrugged as if to say, “Whatever, as long as you buy stuff.”
I labeled the postcards to Mark, 1, 2, and 3. Postcards 1 and 3 got to Mark about 3 weeks after I got back to Japan. Post card 2 took 2 months to be delivered. All North Korean mail goes through China. Since #2 had a couple lines criticizing Beijing, my guess is that China held onto it for a little while. But, that’s only my guess.
Did they just leave!?
After paying for my postcards I continued browsing. I was looking at some paintings when a girl from the group wearing flip-flops asked me if I knew where the bathroom was. I didn’t, but I thought that I would join her in finding one. We found a lady in a hanbok… (I mean chosonot) and she told us to go through some ominous-looking door and head to the back of the building. It seemed a bit sketchy, but a lady in a chosonot told us to go there and if anything happened that would be our defense.
Flip-flops and I went through the door and walked down a hall and up another and made a turn and solved a riddle and finally found a bathroom. We were going to take turns, first her then me, but the task of using this bathroom needed more strategy than that.
There were 2 doors, a main door and a door for the one bathroom stall. The door for the stall refused to stay closed and the main door refused to stay open. There was no light in the bathroom, so the main door needed to stay open. Which meant that other door needed to be closed. There was no way to use this bathroom on one’s own without a flash light. So we took turns using the facilities with the other holding one door shut and the other door open.
Once done we made our way back through the maze. By the time Flip-flops and I were back in the shop no one but the shopkeeper was there. She stood there smiling at us and waving goodbye. We thanked her and made our way through the front door.
As I opened the door I could see where our bus used to be parked. We looked down the road. There was a cloud of dirt being kicked up by our bus as it headed for the main road. “What!? They left us!” Flip-flops shouted in a thick Australian accent. “How could they leave us? Don’t they count heads?” Then she took off running after the bus.
I didn’t think they were actually leaving us behind, but if she ran I guess I should too… So, I ran after her.
The bus stopped and let us on. Everyone applauded as we walked to our seats. I looked at Vera. She told me, “I was wondering why we stopped. I didn’t know you weren’t on the bus.”
Me – “Wait, what!?”
The western guide sat in the seat next to mine. “I knew you guys weren’t on the bus. I was just messing with you. I knew. Really, I knew.” Something about his insistence made me doubt him just a little bit.
“Have you ever actually left someone behind?” I asked. He chuckled, “Yes, once. I only noticed after I got a ring on my mobile from another tour guide.” I looked shocked. “He was okay. He got a ride with the other group.” He said this, but I knew he was joking.
The tours are advertised as having no more than 20 people in a group. So if 50 people sign up for a particular tour, they would be split into 3 groups. Our tour was split into 2 groups; group A, my group, and group B. Both groups see the same stuff each day, just in different order. While we were at the poster shop, group B was at the museum and visa-versa. So, if Flip-flops and I were really left behind we could have just waited for group B to show up.
(I’m not even going to think about what would have happened if we got left behind at the museum after both groups had already seen it. Hopefully, Flip-flops and I would have made new lives for ourselves in the workers’ paradise selling propaganda postcards.)
This also brings up the topic of cell phones in the DPRK. Our western tour guides were in constant contact with each other and with their support team back in China. The Korean guides also had cell phones and received a few calls from the other Korean tour guides.
Our western guide told me, “Our phones come from China, but they work here in North Korea. I can call Beijing or I can call my guy (the western guide for group B) here in Korea. But I cannot call Mr. Park or Ms. Lee. They have DPRK phones. DPRK phones cannot call Chinese phones. So If I need to call Mr. Hyun (a Korean guide for group B) I have to call my guy and have him pass his phone to Mr. Hyun.”
Next we went to the museum to look at Korean relics. There was a museum tour guide who, along with Mr. Park, gave us lots of information. But I could never get close enough to either of them to really hear what was being said. So, I hung back and just took photos.
I started to lag behind. It was pretty much me, the camera man, and intern Kim at the back of the pack. I began to suspect that the camera man didn’t speak any English. Up to that point I had never heard him speak. He mostly kept to himself and smiled a lot. Intern Kim, however, struck up a conversation with me.
She knew I lived in Japan, so she asked me about the city I lived in. “Is it bigger than Pyongyang?”
Me – “No! I live in the boonies.”
Intern Kim – “The what?”
Me – “The countryside. It’s a small town.”
I tried to describe Oita for her by answering her, “Does it have a…” questions. “Yes. It has a several train stations, many buses, pools, shopping, a highway, but it’s still a very small town. I don’t know if it has more people than Pyongyang, but there is way more traffic.” (Pyongyang doesn’t have much traffic.)
Delete your photos now!
We got back in the bus. Our next stop was the tomb of King Kongmin, the 31st king of one of the many dynasties of Korea. (I’m really bad at history. In school I was very thankful that my own country was just a little over 200 years old, because that’s about as far as my attention spans goes for history.)
On the drive there we passed many farmers working in the fields. Well actually, the day before we learned that they were not farmers, in that they do not own farms, but that they were soldiers working on farms. “Everyone works on the farm,” Ms. Lee told us, “even I do.” We looked at her aghast. “Yes, Mr. Park too!” she said. “It’s good exercise for me,” Mr. Park said flexing his muscles.
The western guide stood up and told everyone on the bus that city-dwelling Koreans take about 2 weeks out of each year and go to the countryside where they help plant or sow. Everyone does it. It’s like a community thing.
The bus continued along a windy path and everyone gazed out the window. People took photos here and there when something somewhat interesting came into view. There wasn’t much to photograph. It all looked like bare land right before planting. So when we found a relatively large group of people farming we all got our cameras out.
Then I heard Ms. Lee screaming. She was very angry. I had never seen her angry before. Even this morning when we took photos of “everyday people” she wasn’t angry. “I said no photos of military buildings!”
Everyone looked around. “What military buildings?” we asked each other. She pointed to the building in the photo above. “We had an agreement!” she yelled. She went on lecturing us for several minutes. “I know you don’t understand, but it is very important that you follow the rules,” she said as she walk down the aisle of the bus. This time she did make some people delete their photos, but she didn’t see me.
I wasn’t even taking a photo of the building. I wanted a photo of the people. If she hadn’t said anything, I would never have guessed that that was a military building. In fact, I think she might have been mistaken. Why would anyone put a military building out in the open like that; no guards, no fence. I still think it was just a place for the farmers/soldiers to keep their equipment — unless that is what makes it a military building…
So… Tell me about Seoul.
When we got to the tombs the bus parked at the bottom of the hill and we had to walk the rest of the way. Ms. Lee apologized for us having to do such an arduous task. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I told her, “When I lived in Korea I knew that everything worth seeing was up some mountain or another.”
She smiled at me and asked, “Did you live in Pyongyang or Kaesong?” “Nampo,” I replied, “I prefer living by the beach.” She laughed. “How long did you live in South Korea?” she asked, emphasizing the word “south”. “Two years,” I said, “but my Korean is still very limited.” Intern Kim joined the conversation by asking, “Where did you live in South Korea?”
Me – “Seoul.”
Intern Kim – “Did you like living in Seoul.”
Me – “Yes. Seoul is one of the best places I’ve ever lived!”
Ms. Lee – “Do you like Korean food?”
Me – “Yes. I love it. I was in Seoul for winter vacation and I visited all my favorite restaurants again.”
Intern Kim – “What Korean food do you like?”
They looked at me like they had never even heard of these dishes. I tried describing them, but I don’t think it helped.
Ms. Lee – “Have you had raengmyeon; cold noodles?”
Me – “I’ve tried it, but. I don’t really like cold food.”
Intern Kim – “They have raengmyeon in South Korea?”
Me – “Yes. They eat it mostly in the summer.”
They asked about other dishes, “Do they have _____ in South Korea too?” I answered all their questions as best as I could. Then one of them asked, “Do they have western food in the south?” “Yes,” I replied, almost giggling, “they have just about anything you can think of; American food, Japanese food, Chinese food, Thai food, Moroccan food….”
“They have Japanese food!?” They seemed almost scandalized. Then one of them asked, as if she had a most ridiculous thought, “Do they have Korean food in Japan?” “Yes,” I said, “There are at least 3 Korean restaurants I can think of in my town alone.” “The town in the countryside?” asked Intern Kim seriously. “…Yes.”
Another Story about the Tombs
When we got to the top where the tombs were, Ms. Lee told us a story.
“As you know, the Japanese invaded Korea. When they found these tombs they knew there was treasure inside. They walked around the tombs, but they could not figure out how to get in. They grabbed a farmer and demanded to know where the opening was. The farmer would not tell them, so the Japanese killed him.
Then they got some children. They asked the children where the opening was, but the children refused to say anything to the Japanese even after they were tortured. They grabbed many more people, but no one would tell the Japanese where the opening was. No one wanted to Japanese to steal the treasure inside. It was for Korean people only!”
Then she asked us if we could figure out where the opening was.
Everyone walked around and around the mounds looking for the opening. I began to wonder why the Japanese needed to look for an opening. The top is made of grass and dirt. The rest is made of stone. One could simply disassemble it with a good pick-ax and a shovel.
After we had all given up or given our incorrect guesses, Ms. Lee showed us where the opening was. It was not a puzzle. You either knew where it was or you didn’t, so there was no way to have figured it out.
“So the Japanese could not get the treasure then?” someone asked, “It’s still inside after all these years?” “No. The Japanese used dynamite and blew it up.” Ms. Lee said. “And the treasure?” we asked. Ms. Lee sighed, “…in Japan somewhere I suppose. All this was rebuilt after the Japanese left.”
“So the Japanese weren’t so stupid after all,” I whispered to Vera, “they got what they came for.” “Yes, but if you’re used to repeating propaganda,” Vera whispered back, “you don’t realize what you’re really telling people when you repeat a story.”
The Other Side of the DMZ
Here is what I know about the Korean war. Just keep in mind that I am not a historian. I’m just a woman who reads a lot of books about China, North Korea, and their leaders.
According to Mao: The Unknown Story, the Korean war was started by Kim Il-Sung. He first went to Stalin for help in invading the south. Stalin didn’t really want to get into a war with the US, which is pretty much what this would turn into, so he just ignored Kim.
Kim then went to Mao and asked Mao for help with his invasion. Mao was all about that! He couldn’t care less about reuniting the Koreans. He just loved conflict. Besides, he had some ex-Kuomintang soldiers he wanted to put on the front line as cannon fodder.
He also wanted people to see China as a threat and hopefully, if things went his way, he could somehow work this into him becoming the leader of international communism taking Stalin’s place. But most of all, he thought that with this war, Russia would finally give him the secrets to making nuclear bombs.
(According to Only Beautiful, Please there is a museum in Dandong, China that has the actual letter that Kim Il-Sung wrote to Mao asking for help to start the war. When North Korea tested nuclear weapons against China’s wishes it really pissed the Chinese off. China being the only one to ever side with the DPRK in the who-started-the-Korean-war debate put the letter on display as proof that North Korea started the war to get back at their little communist brothers.)
Stalin was excited when he heard that Mao would get involved. He would not have to do anything. China would provide all the manpower and support. With China’s complete disregard to their own soldiers’ lives, they would end up killing tons of Americans by any means necessary. Stalin, however, never gave Mao any nuclear secrets. Mao would have to wait for Kruschev.
In the end no one won. Nobody got what they wanted and all countries involved were worst off for the war, or police action as the US called it. About a year and a half into the war Kim Il-Sung wanted to call it quits. He had not counted on the US carpet bombing his country. All the factories, mines, roads, and other things needed for industry the country had were blown to bits.
But Mao wanted to continue. Even though he had lost his own son, Mao Anying, in the war he still kept things going by asking for more and more concessions. Mao dragged the war out for another year and a half. In 1953 they agreed to an armistice, so the fighting stopped, but the war never ended.
Once at the DMZ we were given many lectures on the “real” history of the war. Up until this point, the tour had only a minimum amount of propaganda. On the bus ride from King Kongmin’s tomb to the DMZ, Ms. Lee told us that she knew no one believes North Korea’s side of the story, so she wasn’t going to bring it up now.
Instead, she wanted to focus on things that we all agreed were true. She talked about the people who lived in the area and their farms. Then she talked about the DMZ tour from the South Korean side and how restrictive it is. She talked about how in the past, North and South Korea had little squabbles at the DMZ. All of this is true.
However there was no mention of Propaganda City. It was built to be easily seen from South Korea and is part of the ROK DMZ tour, along with one of the many tunnels that the DPRK has dug trying to get to Seoul. If only North Korea knew how much money South Korea was making off their failed espionage attempts!
I tried asking Ms. Lee about Kijong-dong as indirectly as possible. “What about the people who live in Panmunjom within the DMZ? I hear the farming there is really good…”
I know that on the South Korean side, there are farmers who live within the DMZ . They are tax exempt and make about $80,000 a year, but they must follow several strict rules to keep their farms. I wanted to know about Propaganda Village or if North Korea had a similar farming community.
But, Ms. Lee evaded my question, by pointing to the farms we could see from the bus. We were not yet near the DMZ at the time. I did not push the matter further.
But at the DMZ the propaganda was laid on so thick that I lost interest. Instead of listening to the DMZ tour guide, I wandered off on my own to take photos. After a while I was joined by Mr. Park.
Mr. Park – “Don’t you want to listen?”
Me – “I know it all already.”
Mr. Park noticed my ring.
Mr. Park – “You are married.”
Me – “Yes.”
Mr. Park – “Why didn’t your husband come with you on this trip?”
Me – “He was scared. He was born in South Korea.”
Mr. Park – “He is Korean?”
Me – “Korean-American.”
Mr. Park – “If he is American he can come here. Next time, bring him.”
Mr. Park and I vaguely talked about family, friends, and life without saying much. All I remember about him now, is that he had a wife and he was a party member.
I was looking forward to going back to the little blue room of tension. I had been in it before on a South Korean tour of the DMZ. But, we were told that we could not see it today. According to the DMZ soldier showing us around, there was some quarrel between the two Koreas at the time. Because of that South Korea locked the door to the building and North Korea didn’t have a copy of the key and couldn’t get in.
Where do I begin?
The trip offered an opportunity to try dog. I’ve turned down many chances at eating bosintang when I lived in Seoul and I’ve never regretted it. I declined the dog soup. We were also given an option to have samgyetang, a dish that I think is okay at best. The cost for it here was 30 euros. I didn’t think it was worth it. I opted for no add-ons to my meal.
We were given an assortment of banchan in small metal bowls along with a hot bowl of noodles in a light broth. After I had eaten everything, even the stuff I didn’t like, I still felt hungry. Just when I was regretting not getting an extra dish, they brought out a simple chicken stew. It did the trick.
Top row: ??, kim, sweet sticky rice with beans
Middle row: fried tofu, ojingeochae bokkeum, some sort of egg concoction, …duck
I didn’t really like many of the dishes. I found most of them to be either bland, like the noodle soup, or too sweet like the rice, egg thing, duck, and ojingeochae. But, I didn’t come to North Korea for the food, so I wasn’t too bothered.
How many statues does this guy need?
After lunch both groups A and B, walked up the hill to see yet another statue of the Great Leader. We came just in time to catch a newly married couple paying homage to the metal lord and taking photos. At first we tried to respect their privacy and move around them to take photos, but the guides kept pointing them out. It was like they wanted us to take photos of the couple. So, I guess they weren’t “everyday Koreans”.
Then we were led along a path towards a shady area. From there we could look down at Kaesong Old City. We took a few photos of our view, but something grabbed our attention.
“Who are these dancing people?” “Why are they here?” “Don’t they have jobs?” The groups had become very suspicious of our guides and the people around us. “Who told them to come here?” “Do they get paid to act happy?” We all whispered these questions among ourselves.
We were encouraged to dance with them, but we did not want to. Finally group B’s western guide walked to the middle of the group and started a little jig. He was so tall and lanky at about 7 feet some inches and he could not dance. That alone was enjoyable to watch. His dance kind of mellowed out everyone. We were still not buying that everyone around us just happened to be here, but at least now everyone was willing to act like this was normal.
Oh, just take a little bite…
We got back on the bus. As we pulled away the dancers and the wedding couple stood on the side of the road and waved to us. “Why was the couple still here?” It was a bit bizarre.
We drove on the wrong side of the road and then on the correct side of the road. We past checkpoints and people walking in the road. Some people rode motorbikes; most rode bicycles. A few people pulled large farm animals behind them as they walked. Every now and then we would overtake an old rusty bus jam-packed with people. They looked at us with expressionless faces.
“Hey! Hey!” boomed a voice from the back of the bus. “Has anyone tried that Russian chocolate?” “Not yet,” I said. “Open it and try it now,” the person giggled.
I took out my chocolate bar. It looked promising. Once the wrapping was open, things didn’t look right. The chocolate was brown, but the wrong shade of brown. Still I broke off a piece and tasted it. “Oh no! This is horrible.” It didn’t taste like chocolate should. If there was such a thing as imitation chocolate, this is what it would taste like.
Someone looked at their bar’s wrapper. “What do you think the 2002 means?” “Do you think that’s the year the chocolate was made?” “No”, answered someone, “that’s the year the chocolate factory was closed down by the Russian health inspectors.”
I didn’t want to just throw away food, even bad chocolate, so I wrapped my bar back up and put it in my backpack. I dumped it as soon as I got to China.
The next stop was a the Reunification Arch. I had been looking forward to seeing it since I lived in South Korea. We all got out the bus and took a few photos. After about 4 photos I was done. That’s it.
After a short 10 minutes, it was time to go. There was nothing more to do at the sight, but I didn’t want to get back on the bus.
There were a few things I noticed about Pyongyang. First, the buildings didn’t look like buildings anywhere else. They all had a homemade quality about them. You know how you can tell when a dress was sewn by hand. No matter how good the stitching is there is just something a little off. That’s kind of how the buildings looked. Even the nicer buildings downtown looked homemade.
Second, was that only the front of the front row of the downtown buildings on the main street were painted. All the other sides and the buildings behind the main street builds were cement gray. This gave the area a very unfinished look.
The third odd thing was the people planting everywhere. On the sidewalks there would be people swinging hoes to till the soil. I’m not sure what they were planting; I’m guessing grass since there were many grassless patches throughout the city.
The next thing was the kid’s show at Mangyongdae Children’s Palace. It was a far cry from the circus. There were very few if any mistakes made by the performers. Mind you, that the kids didn’t really do any acrobatics. But with all the near misses I saw during my first show in Pyongyang, I was expecting someone to drop something or mess up in some way. But, nope!
I could tell that the kids practice day and night. Everything was perfect. There wasn’t even a hair out of place! Everyone hit their marks. Everyone played or sang with intensity. The kids were scary-good and it made a good show. I just hope the kids are happy…
The kids in the audience seemed to enjoy the show. Other than our groups A and B and a few other tours, the place was filled with children; no parents. I’m not sure if they were just here to watch the show or if they were also performers, maybe with the night off. They all wore uniforms and kept themselves in little herds.
They seemed shy but curious about us. I went over to a chandelier to get a closer look at it. I heard giggles and whispers above my head. I looked up and saw a bunch of kids. They quickly ducked. I stood there waving at them. Most of them came back and returned my wave. I snapped a picture and more came.
Who knows where we’ll go next!?
Next we went to a bar. We started out with an itinerary but that was tossed out days ago. Sometimes we went to places on the itinerary, sometimes we went to places not on the itinerary. This was one that was not on the itinerary.
There was a bar section and an area for hermits who don’t really want to mingle with others. We went to the hermitty booths area. We were given a fish and some people ordered beer. I hate beer so I focus more on the fish.
We weren’t sure if it was food or not. It was dried fish, but it had more of a cardboard texture rather than a dried fish texture. We asked someone on the wait staff, “Are we meant to eat this?” We were assured that it was in fact food.
We tried to eat it. One person tried to bite it, but could not. Several of us ripped strips of the fish off and put it into our mouths. It was almost impossible to chew.
One of the waitresses saw us and came over to help. She gave us a small bowl of sauce and placed a strip of fish in it. She waited for a moment then indicated that someone should eat it.
Once it was rehydrated it had more of a fish-like texture. This made it easier to eat.
It still tasted bad…
You’ve never heard of it?
For dinner we went to the KITC Restaurant. We were to eat Korean barbecue. Each table had almost everything one needs for Korean barbeque. There were lettuce leaves. There was gochujang, dipping sauces, soup, and raw meat; pork and… duck. The only thing missing was ssamjang.
Vera and I sat at a table with some French guys who lived in Hong Kong. As we were talking Ms. Lee walked around to each table to make sure everything was going smoothly with the grills. When she got to my table she asked me if I needed anything. “Do they have ssamjang?” I asked. Ms. Lee looked puzzled and asked, “What is that?”
“It’s a type of paste like gochujang, but it’s not made with red peppers,” I told her. “Is it like ketchup?” She seemed to really not know what it was. “It’s a Korean thing. You eat vegetables with it.” “Oh,” she said, “You want gochujang.” “No,” I insisted, “ssamjang is different; it’s salty. You eat it with samgyeopsal or galbi, but it’s really great with hot peppers.” “Are you sure you’re not thinking of gochujang?”
“Yes,” I conceded, “I must have been thinking of gochujang.”
(Chosŏn Minjujuŭi Inmin Konghwaguk)
How to get there:
- Don’t be South Korean.
- Go to China.
- Find a tour group.
- Follow the rules.
The laws about who can get a visa to the DPRK change often. At the time of our trip, the Japanese were allowed in, but the Chinese were not. But, South Koreans are never allowed in. Korean-Americans, however, are welcomed, if they use their US passport for entry.
You won’t get to use the phone. But if you need to know, the emergency numbers are 112 and 119.
- 10 North Korea Facts – WMNews Ep. 5
- 26 Surprising Facts About: North Korea
- China Uncensored:
- Crossing The Line
- DPRK: The Land Of Whispers
- The Real Doctor Evil: Kim Jong Il’s North Korea
- Act of War
- Anecdotes of Kim Jong Il’s Life
- The Aquariums of Pyongyang
- The Dark Tourist
- Dear Leader: Poet, Spy, Escapee
- Eating with the Enemy
- Escape from Camp 14
- Escaping North Korea
- A Kim Jong-Il Production: The Extraordinary True Story of a Kidnapped Filmmaker…
- The Impossible State
- Mao: The Unknown Story
- North Korea Kidnapped My Daughter
- Nothing to Envy
- Only Beautiful, Please
- The Orphan Master’s Son
- Somewhere Inside
- The Reluctant Communist
- The Tears of My Soul
- The World Is Bigger Now
If you can read Korean: Kingdom of Kim (There is no English version of this book yet. I would love to find one.)
NEVER NEVER NEVER bring a bible to North Korea!
The Kaesong Folk Hotel
Kaesong Folk Custom Hotel
- Coordinates 37°58’36.0″N 126°33’11.1″E
- Forget about getting a decent shower here. There are neither showers nor hot water. If you get a functioning sink, consider yourself lucky.
- There is a souvenir shop at the entrance to this hotel.
- You will be sleeping the traditional, old-timey Korean way, on the floor with heating provided by an ondol.
Koryo Songgyungwan University
(고려 성균관 대학교)
- Coordinates 37°58’52.0″N 126°33’58.2″E (maybe, or somewhere near here)
- This museum is either near or part of a university which was founded in 992 AD.
- The propaganda shop is near the museum.
Tomb of King Kongmin
- Coordinates 37°58’55.5″N 126°28’22.5″E
- There are 2 mounds here.
- One mound used to have the remains of Kongmin, 31st king of the Koryo Dynasty. There other used to contain his wife’s remains.
There’s an interesting story that goes with the mounds. When King Kongmin’s wife died he wanted to bury her in the perfect spot. The king offered to honor anything requested by anyone who could find this ideal burial place for him. People kept suggesting spots, but none satisfied the king. The king became very annoyed by so many bad suggestions.
Then one guy told the king that he had found the perfect spot. “It’s just up this mountain.” So the king went up the mountain while the guy stayed below with the king’s guards. The king, tired of being jerked around, gave the order to have the guy killed if the burial spot was not to his liking. To signal his displeasure the king would wave his hanky.
The king climb the mountain and he loved the spot. It was perfect! But it was such a long climb and such a hot day that the king’s forehead became quite sweaty. So he took out his hanky and wiped his forehead.
The guards below saw the king wiping his forehead and mistook it for a wave. They killed the guy immediately.
When the king came back down and found out what had happened he exclaimed, “Oh my!” So now the mountain is called the Korean equivalent of The “Oh my!” Mountain.
- Coordinates 37°57’22.0″N 126°40’36.9″E
- Although there a many rules for dress and behavior when visiting the DMZ on the South Korean side, there are no such rules on the North Korean side.
- You will only see ROK or US soldiers on the South Korean side if there are tours being conducted there at the time.
- There is a gift shop nearby incase you want your propaganda in t-shirt or candy form.
- Coordinates 37°58’21.1″N 126°33’26.7″E
- This is where you can try dog soup for an extra 5 euros.
- You can also try samgyetang for an extra 30 euros.
- You can also have neither. The basic meal is still quite a lot of food.
- Or you can split an extra option with someone.
- I think you have to order the extra dishes ahead of time.
- The meal is mostly made up of many side dishes, noodles, and soup.
- The side dishes will be different for different tours. It depends what’s in season.
- Coordinates 37°58’36.9″N 126°33’31.8″E
- You can walk here from the Tongil Restaurant.
- You can see Kaesong Old town form a nearby look-out.
- I heard that at night this is the only thing in town that has light.
- You might see newlyweds out for a photo-op here.
- I’m going to guess that you will also see groups of dancing picnickers.
- This statue was made in 1968.
- The statue is on Janam Mountain.
- Not too far from the statue you will find the Kwando Pavilion.
At the bottom of the hill, you may have an opportunity to see a traffic boy. In Pyongyang, you see traffic girls all the time. But, only outside of the capitol will you ever see a traffic boy. The key is to find a place outside of Pyongyang that has traffic…
Monument to the Three Charters
Arch of Reunification
(Joguk Tongil Samdae Heonjang Ginyeomtap)
- Coordinates 38°57’52.1″N 125°42’56.4″E
- google+ page (See, it’s not just me who uses google+!)
- Life After People
- 5 Strangest places in North Korea
- It opened in August 2001
- One woman represents North Korea, the other South Korea.
- It takes but a few minutes to see this. Snap some photos then you’ll be on your way.
Mangyongdae Children’s Palace
Mangyongdae School Children’s Palace
- Coordinates 39°00’50.0″N 125°39’32.0″E
- Kids sing and dance, play instruments, to a little acrobatics, and show you how much they love Kim Jong-Il and Kim Jong-Un.
- They ask for 2 volunteers during the show to come up on stage.
- You can buy a video of the show in the lobby, but it might not be a video of the show you just watched.
Taedonggang No.3 Bar
- Coordinates 38°59’38.7″N 125°48’34.1″E
- This bar was recently remodeled.
- They serve 7 types of beer.
There were no bars on our original itinerary. So, I’m not completely sure that this is where we went. I know we went to a bar that was close to the factory that made the beer it served. And, that the bar we visited had many types of locally made beer. That sounds a lot like Taedonggang #3 Bar, so that’s my guess.
KITC Restaurant in Mangyongdae
How to get there:
- Coordinates ???
- Sorry. I just can’t find any information on this place.
When I went there it was night, so I can’t even tell you what the area around it looks like.
- KITC stands for Korean International Travel Company.
- If the lights go out, you will be given a flashlight.
Finding information about the places we visited in North Korea is so hard. There were some things I knew already, because I’ve read a lot of books about North Korea. But some things I don’t know, like the exact location of things… If google can’t find it, it can’t be found.