Sometimes as I lie in my new bed, in my new room in a brand spanking new apartment block, it’s easy to forget where I am. From the minute You step outside the door of your 21 storey apartment complex you are gently reminded EXACTLY where in the world I am. I have become so used to seeing soldiers everywhere that I have simply forgotten to write about them in my blog.

I am living in Munsan, which is a city only 20 minutes from the boarder with North Korea. Munsan is the last stop on the train line. If you go any further, and as far as I know only freight trains do, you will find yourself in the depths of a ravaged nation. A country that has been totally cut off from the outside world, has a secretive government and a nation that has been struck down with famine. Today, due to the government’s secretive nature and its reluctance to allow in foreigners, North Korea is considered the world’s most isolated country.

ers on the Train line that operates from the North Korean city of Kaesong, to Munsan, in the South.

Soldiers are everywhere in Korea. At the moment I am sitting in a PC Bang, which is like an internet cafe except I’m the only person actually online, everyone else is playing computer games. I am also the only girl and the only perosn not in camoflage uniform! There are probably about 20 soldiers in here, as always.

When I walk down the street in Munsan, you see soldiers everywhere, just going about everyday life. As we are so near to North Korea, there are lots of high fences with barbed wire and look out posts, a lot of which it must be said are no longer in use. But the soldiers remain.

A South Korean Soldier checking the barrier, just north of Munsan.

Of the three tunnels between North and South that were discovered in the last 30 years, one of them, the third infiltration tunnel, ends only 12km North of Munsan. I’m hoping to do a tour of the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) next weekend, where you actually get to go down into the tunnels and experience it first hand. The tunnel is about 1,600 m long and about 150 m below ground. It is apparently designed for a surprise attack on Seoul from North Korea, and can easily accommodate 30,000 men per hour along with light weapons!! Eeeep.

Don’t ask me how or why exactly, but on Friday the other Munsan teachers and I ended up in a place Bill Clinton famously called, “The scariest place on Earth.” Anyone who knows me and knows my keen thirst for adventure will know I do not turn down offers to go to crazy places, in fact I LOOK for them.

Third infiltration tunnel, DMZ near Munsan, South Korea

We had befriended some US military soldiers who happened to live in the JSA (Joint Security Area) situated about 15 minutes north of Munsan and about 5 minutes south of North Korea!! The JSA is the only area in the country controlled by both North and South Korea. It is known to be one of the most isolated places on the planet, with stories of shootings and kidnappings rife. One of my friends said that she heard a story recently of someone’s grandmother who had been kidnapped for 5 days ‘just for fun’. This is no place to mess around in.

So off we went on our little adventure to what was once one of the most terrifying war zones on earth and a place still covered in secrecy and armed forces. The journey there was weird enough. We first had to cross the ‘Bridge of No Return’, a bridge lined with explosives so if any attacks or intrusions were to take place, the military could delay their progress by blowing up the only entrance into South Korea. We had to pass many checkpoints and often show our I.D cards.

We were given a mini tour of the army base, were bought a free breakfast and as the tour buses passed by (with each passenger paying 150 bucks each!) they waved at us as if we were animals in a Zoo or celebrities..it was very bizarre and we felt very out of place. We were been watched at all times, and that we weren’t allowed to take any pictures (Ooops!). It is a weird place, surrounded by mountains and green fields, and one of the first places I have witnessed birdsong and wildlife amoungst the army bunkers and look-out points.

Soldier in the JSA, North / South Korea

On exiting one building we heard gun shots and looked at each other with frightened glances. Thank-fully we were told it was just the shooting range/practice range, but it was still somewhat scary. The guys flicked laminated pieces of paper at us, their “licences to kill’. These were no joke, they were real life licences to kill. They also showed us their guns, unloaded of course. A serious reminder of where we were.

We got to observe the army first hand, the rank system, how ‘higher ranks’ could smoke the junior privates and how their was a huge amount of respect to be found. It was quite a culture shock to us carefree teachers I must say and I was happy to head back to Munsan and my life as a teacher!

It’s perhaps the most ironic aspect of teaching in South Korea. More so than even the stupefying realization upon arrival that few, if anyone, here actively speaks English outside of the private hagwons. No, most paradoxical is certainly the fact that while 99% of English speaking foreigners teaching in Korea come for the easy living, decent wages, school-financed accommodations, and ability to travel throughout Asia, they ultimately spend the majority of their contract living within six hours of the most oppressed, isolated, and tyrannically dangerous country on Earth. Being roughly a marathon run from the DMZ, Seoul – population 10 million, and home to the majority of South Korea’s EFL Teachers – exists within the permanent crosshairs of it’s brethren to the north. Threats of nuclear destruction are almost as common in this bustling metropolis as is public vomiting from the cities business elite.

It’s a fact that keeps family and friends back home both cautious and uneasy, particularly when the Kim Regime enters one of it’s annual bellicose phases. No matter the fact that outright war hasn’t broken out on the Korean Peninsula since the cease-fire agreement was signed in 1953. Each time the threats of annihilating Seoul, and laying waste to the American imperial monster emerge from the North, fears from back home quickly follow.

Since arriving back in Korea six weeks ago, I’ve received nearly a dozen emails and private Facebook messages from concerned friends. I’ve been asked about our anxieties over North Korea in every Skype call I’ve made. Not to mention, been told I should pack my bags immediately and hightail out of Korea more than a dozen times on various internet message boards. Now, don’t get me wrong, I certainly appreciate the fact that I’m in my loved one’s thoughts when I’m so far from home. In a country that can feel like another planet at times, it means a lot that they’ll reach out to ask about my safety and security in a time of perceived threats. Just, please take no offense whenever I laugh off said concern.

It’s not that I mean to be rude, or callous towards any outward displays of concern. It’s simply that I’m not worried for a second that North Korea will ever carry out one it’s maniacal threats towards America, or South Korea. See, if I’ve learned anything in my time here in Korea it’s this: for as much vitriol emanates from the Hermit Kingdom, for as many threats it rains down upon it’s southern brothers, for as much bravado that’s shown towards the world’s sole superpower, the likelihood of an all-out war breaking out on the Korean Peninsula is as plausible as Obama actually providing all 350 million American’s with legitimate health insurance. This certainty, combined with the extended period of time North and South Korea have spent as enemies is the the sole reason most Koreans brush off fears about North Korea in the same manner one would change the TV channel if they didn’t like the program.

It’s an understanding gained only by living in Korea. Coming from America where we’re bordered by the two largest oceans on Earth, Mexico to the south – a country who’s only threat to America is that its people want desperately to work there – and Canada, fucking Canada, to the north, the idea of sharing a border with a deranged enemy – especially in the elongated wake of 9/11 – is as unnerving as it is surreal. Moreover, seeing the effect 19 suicidal and radical Muslims had on America’s psyche after simply flying airplanes into three buildings, it is understandable that Americans would equate the threatening presence of North Korea with their own sense of impending doom. Yet, walk the streets of Seoul, talk to any Korean, and, chances are, their views towards North Korea will be a combination disinterest, a lack of worry, and a view of the Kim’s as a kind of unruly little brother – that is, if your little brother followed the Juche philosophy, and locked any revolutionaries in Stalinistic gulags. The reality of this viewpoint is, that if you’ve spent the entirety of your life living under the contrived threats from a nation closer to wherever you live than it would take to drive from LA to San Francisco, you too might become numb to the idea that your life is perilously hanging close to imminent destruction.

More to the point, however, is the fact that any attack from North Korea would essentially be political suicide for the Kim’s. While yes, North Korea did in fact attack the South twice in 2010 – sinking the Cheonan in March, killing 46 soldiers, and shelling the island of Yeonpyeong in November, resulting in four civilian deaths, and 19 injuries – neither of the recent incidents ever occurred on South Korean soil, no did they lead to outright war. In both instances, however, US Officials declared this “the most serious crisis on the Korean Peninsula since 1953.” Regardless if this is true or not, the last thing anyone wants is all-out war on the Korean Peninsula. For America it would mean massive destruction of investments, not to mention the loss of American lives in this, the land of democratic hope, technological innovation, and mass consumerism that is South Korea. For China – North Korea’s sole ally – it would mean a face-to-face conflict with the West, something which would surely disrupt their continued rise to presiding over the largest economy on the planet. For the North Korean government, it would result in a complete dismissal of power for the Kim Regime, and, no doubt the largest contingent of War Crimes Trials since Nuremberg.

So, why then, you ask, does North Korea spend so much time being such an asshole to the rest of the world? Particularly when the reality is, they pose less of a threat than your friend who always seems eager to fight the more drinks you put in him? Why can’t they just work with the world for once? The answer is actually, a simple three-parter.

Juche

First of all, the North Korean government practices it’s own unique brand of totalitarian Communism, known as Juche. While similar to the proletariat theories espoused by Stalin and Mao, Juche is uniquely Korean in that it owes much of it’s beliefs to the homogenous and isolationist policies implemented by various Korean governments for a millennia. Constantly invaded, and caught up in the larger war games of neighboring Mongolia, China, and Japan, Koreans have long been on the defensive, believing a united ideology – not to mention a pure bloodline – will help them overcome their more powerful neighbors. In the 1950′s, after successfully pushing the American-led forces to the 38th Parallel (today’s DMZ), North Korea’s leader Kim Il Sung began to openly resist Joseph Stalin’s calls for a united economy with the Soviet Union and China. While today they’re financially propped up, and supported by it’s only known ally, in China, North Korea prides itself on outlasting the Soviets by 20+ years. A brutally depressed nation, operating under the shadow of the perceived, incessant threats of the Imperialist West, North Korea must fundamentally embrace the idea that they are the only ones who can save themselves if they are to continue existing in this aggressive way. In the propaganda forced on their people, the rest of the world is but a failed, decaying capitalistic empire. While their self-imposed isolation, and aggressive defense has given them longevity, no matter the burden.

In the context of today’s conflict, when the UN condemned North Korea for their nuclear test in February, it had to be viewed from within as an attack; a threat to their survival. Moreover, it provided an opportunity for the young leader, Kim Jong Un – just 28 years old, with only 14 months of on-the-job-training – to prove his strength to both his oppressed people, and the archaic generals who play the role of the Kim’s muscle. In constant need of justification for their brutality and backwardness, the threat of war towards America and South Korea allows Kim the opportunity to appear the powerful defender of Korea that both his grandfather, and father once played the part of. Whenever the threat eventually dissipates, he can proudly assure to his people he’s seen the imperialist war lords away, thus allowing North Korea to retreat once again into isolation.

Self-Reliant Foreign Aid

While Juche provides a historical context for the Kim’s bellicosity, North Korea today, is a shell of the semi-prospering Communist nation it once was. Through the 1960′s, North Korea was more productive and profitable than the Capitalistic South. Even as of 1976, North Korea’s GDP per capita was actually equal with the South. Since then, however, the nation has experienced numerous famines, stunted currencies, and the death of it’s first two leaders, resulting in a further retreat into the helpless isolation that’s put itself at least a generation behind it’s southern brothers. Within this stark reality, North Korea has only two options: The Kim Regime resigns, allowing foreign aid and development to pour into their country, rebuilding the nation from the ground-up, or, continue down their current aggressive path of threatening world destruction, only to be rewarded with a lessening of sanctions, and fresh aid in return for said threats disappearing. Over the past twenty years – despite the South’s Sunshine Policy from 1998 – 2008 – North Korea has routinely chosen the latter path. Resulting in this annual display of military might, it’s the desperate nation’s only option if it wants to continue surviving as is currently constructed. Seeing as the cornerstone of the Kim’s tyrannical philosophy is built upon their own self-reliance, the illusion of it is sold to their people, while the reality is they’re in constant need of international aid for their own survival. While ultimately it’s their people who suffer as a result of their isolation and oppression, the Kim Family, and their entourage of military generals stand no chance in Democratic elections. Thus the illusion continues, and the war rants escalate whenever the nation is in need of both justification and aid.

The Revolution From Within

For as helpless at the people of North Korea appear to be from the outside, according to recent reports from The Economist and BBCNews, there are transformative changes occurring from within the country, which may prove to be irreversible in time. Since around 2003, cell phones, DVD Players, laptops, and mp3 sticks have made their way into the country through a civilian-run black market. For the first time, North Koreans were able to see the vast advances made by their neighbors, contradicting the propaganda from the regime that the capitalistic empires of the world were nothing more than deteriorating wastelands. The result of this information revolution is not only felt in the psychological impact it has on it’s people, but also, in the monetary power the smugglers and traders who import the goods, gain. Completely separate from the North Korean regime, the smugglers reportedly bribe low-level officials whenever they’re caught. As was seen in East Berlin in the late-80′s, once people get a taste of freedom, choices, and, yes, consumer goods, totalitarian walls are sure to fall. While it’s quite amazing that a nation caught between the economic wonder-house China, and the innovative tech-hubs of South Korea and Japan, could stay so isolated and so sheltered for so long, it’s beginning to be a limited possibility. Sooner or later, the demands for personal freedoms, economic opportunities, and access to a better quality of life is going to be too much for the Kim Regime to control. Perhaps, at that point, after lambasting all potential friends, they’ll truly understand the meaning of the Juche philosophy they so proudly espouse.

Yet, until a revolution overwhelms North Korea, the Kim Regime still holds a firm grip on it’s people, no matter the fractures occurring within. No doubt aware of the fissures in it’s broken nation, now, more than ever, the Kim Regime must appear strong, in control, the all-powerful leaders of their people, defending them against the aggressive and dangerous imperial dogs at their southern borders. A classic tactic implemented by all desperate totalitarian regimes, whenever internal issues become fractured and complicated, there’s nothing quite like a great fear from the outside to keep everyone in line. Incapable of maintaining power without the current parameters of “self reliance,” the constant threat of destruction, and the decayed state of the alternative Capitalistic world, the game goes ever onward.

Whenever they’re in need of relevancy or aid – rumors persist of a famine tearing through the nation’s tarnished countryside – they simply act out, threaten America and South Korea with destruction, and then retreat when the promises of aid, and an ease of UN sanctions are offered. It’s a sad, dangerous, and backwards rhetoric for the nation to follow, but it’s the only option the Kim’s have left. Having proved to the world their worthlessness in constructing a self-reliant Communist Empire, they must instead provoke with images of their million-man army, and threats of nuclear war. Yet, as is clearly seen, war will never come. The threats are merely a facade. While they outwardly display the nation’s Juche philosophy, they ultimately prove instrumental for both foreign aid to reach the dying nation, and, for the Kim Regime to guarantee prolonged control over it’s brutally oppressed, but rapidly changing peoples.

Dennis Rodman’s recent visit to North Korea may have proved to be yet another bizarre act in a long line of them from North Korea, but it did provide one memorable, and accurate, quote from The Worm in regards to Kim Jong Un’s foreign policy: “I [Kim] do not want to do war. I do not want to do war.” War is the quickest way to ensure the Kim Regime’s imminent demise. War is the quickest way to undermine the regime’s threats. War is the quickest way to transform North Korea from a “self-sufficient,” isolated Communist Utopia, into a decaying extension of the Imperialist Capitalistic Empire. It will not come to war. It will never come to war.

——–

Once tensions ease on the Korean Peninsula – and they surely will by summer – North Korea will retreat once again into near-total isolation, waiting out the time when they need to once again ratchet up their war cries in return for aid and the illusion of respect. Life in South Korea will carry on in much the same way it always does. New pop songs will emerge, they’ll be gobbled up by citizens young and old, and become massive hits – hopefully on the same level as “Gangnam Style.” Korean BBQ’s and Samgypesal restaurants will be buzzing with the sounds and smells of grilled meat, and the ever-present shrill of soju’d ahjussi’s. The sidewalks will be lined with people shopping, the streets will be full of taxi’s and motorbikes fighting for space. The bars and clubs will be full of anxious, and jubilant twenty-somethings, drunk off youth, focused on their current dart game, or planning the next nore-bang to visit. Foreigners will be easily spotted, living a life of luxury and ease, planning trips to the coast, and packing the various WaBar’s throughout the country. North Korea will yet again be a distant memory. That angry little brother to the north with far more bark than bite.

A fundamentally flawed and backwards nation, North Korea certainly is. Tyrannical and brutally oppressive to it’s own people is yet another way of describing it. However, to think that this backwardness, this isolation, this complete disregard for reality could ever translate into an all-out war with the west is little more than American media-hyped fear-mongering. North Korea would just as soon declare war on South Korea and America as America would willingly invade Iran. While their rhetoric is that of deranged nation hell-bent on world domination, the reality is that they not only lack the advanced weaponry to engage the world, but also know they’d have far more to lose than could ever be gained from military conflict.

Thus, until the seeds of revolution being sown from within are in full bloom, the same patterns will repeat themselves year in and year out. English teachers will flock to South Korea from the US, England, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, and Canada in search of cheap living, a phenomenal cuisine, and a society determined to party all night long. While just a few miles to the North, the most isolated, backwards, oppressive regime on Earth will continue existing with little care towards the outside world. Like clockwork, the spring will bring war games in the south, a nuclear test in the north, threats of all-out war from Kim, and promises to defend it’s allies no matter what from America, before both sides back down just in time for summer. A paradoxical existence for those of us who make the trek to Korea for a year or five, the threat of imminent destruction looms ever present. Though strangely, the closer you get to the Hermit Kingdom the more absurd, surreal, and downright laughable, the threats appear to be.

You’ve seen pictures of the extraordinary seascape at Ha Long bay, where Top Gear ended up, how the sheer rock stacks stand out of the water. Well there are many of the stacks on land too.
The rice fields, smooth as a snooker table as far as the eye can see, and probably farther, I expect, are scattered with these huge sheer intrusions. No gently sloping run up to it, no foothills or nothing, and no other geological feature in the landscape, just lush green fields and then a sheer two hundred foot rock poking out of the ground at ninety degrees and every inch covered in green. A daydreaming man out walking in the fields would break his nose on one, they’re so unexpectedly there.
They’re karst formations and that’s about all I know about it.

A karst formation. That’s all I know about it.

We drove through this strange landscape for about an hour or so to the river, the name of which I don’t remember, where there were many boats to take the tourists down the emerald stream where men and women in small boats gathered weeds to feed the fish in their ponds, our driver guide told us.

Gathering fish food

The entrance to the cave was forty minutes downstream past a monument that marks the start of the Ho Chi Minh trail and through villages on the riverbanks to where  the boatman cut the engine when we got to the cave mouth and we proceeded forward by paddle power.
Swifts darted about as our boat slid quietly into the cave entrance.
We watched in silent awe as the light faded and we moved with just the sound of the paddle pushing the water.
We watched in silent awe, but a bunch of Koreans in the boat a hundred yards in front of us were whooping and yelling and shrieking and singing and delighting in the echoes off the walls.
No sense of the awesome, no wonder at the majesty of the earths treasures or drinking in of the atmosphere in rapt appreciation in the magnificently watery bowels of the earth. No, they saw it more as an opportunity to hear their own voices amplified. It spoiled it a bit for us to be honest.
We were in the cave for an hour or so, and then back out into the hottest day imaginable.

Sliding gently into the watery bowels of the earth

From this cave we were taken to a cafe where we were served a pretty good lunch of rice and noodles and meat and vegetables before back to the minibus and off to see Paradise Cave.

I’ve been to Cheddar Gorge and I’ve been in Wookey Hole and I thought that was big. Paradise Cave is bigger than that. It’s like in the Lord of the Rings, when the hobbits and their mates go into the Mines of Moria where the Dwarves dwell. It’s Vast.
In places it’s a hundred feet high, and in other parts it’s still Vast but not quite so high, and it reaches 13 km into the earth. Only the first km is open to the public to walk through on a long wooden walkway where groups of Korean tourists whoop and shout at each other and run and bleat like frisky lambs on a spring morning in Wales.
Even down here, in this cathedral of a chasm, Nel was grabbed and made to pose for photos by Vietnamese women with huge stalagtites.
Happily we were left in peace and silence after a while to wonder open mouthed and awestruck, gazing at the formations, many of which have been there since the caves were opened to the public in 2005!

There are Dwarves in here, and probably bats too

It was a very very sweaty trek up to Paradise Cave and we had spent too long inside, not realising what the time was or that the caves were closed and the lights turned off at 5. We were late coming back down the track to where our bus driver was waiting patiently for us. He said we would be heading back to Dong Hoi, that the third part of the itinerary was now not on because it was late, we’d spent too long in the cave and we’d had a delay at the start of the day waiting for the Australians.
This bought a protest from the organic Finnish deadlock girl who said that for her, the most important part of the trip was the walk into the enchanted forest, where the elves live.
Alright, it was billed as an ‘eco walk’ and she was disappointed, but we had spent too long going ooh, and ah in the cave and in fact we’d had to wait for her and her boyfriend to catch up.
And the sun goes down here the same time every evening with very little seasonal deviation so you know it’s going to be dark at six thirty.  And so the driver offered some money back but this wasn’t what she wanted so we ended up going on the eco walk, which, as far as I can tell is an ordinary walk but with signs up saying ‘No hunting of the wild animals’, and ‘No lighting of fires’, and ‘No people who have been taking drugs or have drunk or mentally ill people’.
We walked on some eco bamboo paths, which are probably not so eco friendly as just leaving the jungle alone. We also walked on some eco rocks and, because it was getting dark, snagged ourselves on eco trees and got bitten by eco mosquitoes.
There were some lovely invisible frogs barking at each other like dogs really really loudly and if we’d not got there late, we could have frollicked in the eco stream, which had ropes across like water nymphs.

We mentioned to our fellows that there was a western restaurant in Dong Hoi and we all decided that we’d go there together for dinner that night, so we showered quickly and nipped around to the hotel they were staying in where we got a taxi.
Inside the restaurant the staff moved three white men from the biggest table so we could all sit, so I apologised to them.
Menus were bought, and food and drinks ordered, Amy, the younger of the Aussies started to get exasperated when she couldn’t order vodka, so the owner came over to translate and told her they don’t have vodka.
There was then a discussion about why he had a vodka bottle on display and a bit of flouncing and huffing and eye rolling.
Typically in a Vietnam restaurant, you shouldn’t expect the same kind of service you might expect in say, a five star hotel, especially in a restaurant where little English is spoken in a town little visited by tourists. You’re in for a disappointment if you do.
There is a very smart, newly painted restaurant in Dong Hoi called The Pizza Cafe, plainly decorated to appeal to the few westerners who visit but you’ll be sadly disappointed if you expect a pizza. When we called in there, they only had noodles so that’s what we ate, again. You might expect to be able to order a pizza if a Pizza Cafe.

The Aussie women were doing a lot of miming of exasperation and rolling eyes telling stories about how you don’t get what you’ve ordered. May as well have been shouting out that the Vietnamese people are stupid and backward. And this from the girl who’d got all offended at the sign that said no mentally ill people allowed in the caves but who feels it’s ok to denigrate them because they can’t come up with a shrimp salad even though it’s on the menu. I would advise them to learn Vietnamese if they want to make sure they’re not misunderstood in restaurants, or just stay in Australia where no doubt it’s easier for restaurateurs to buy shrimp.
I found myself disagreeing boisterously with their assessment of Vietnam. They’d begun to get like that in the minibus, when we had a driver who spoke good English and was a good man.
After he’d dropped us off, we both thanked him nicely, told him we’d had a great day and tried to repair the damage they’d done to his idea of white people. Neither of us saw any of the others thanking him when they left the bus. 

Next morning another bus to Dong Ha. Back to Dong Ha, because you can’t get a tour to the DMZ from Dong Hoi and we’d thought we’d be able to.
It was a two hour trip in a minibus with some English tourists, mostly girls who got all arsey when they had to move or make space for someone. Really, go to Morecambe next time, in Asia it gets like this, the busses are overcrowded and sweaty and there’s loads of Asians who don’t have your sense of righteousness about having bought your ticket and bloody well having enough leg room, and they’re expecting that the aircon might not work. Stay in Yorkshire, girl.
A really sweet young girl got on the bus and crammed herself in by me so I dislocated both of my legs to let her in, without complaining once.
She started to speak to us just because she wants to speak English. She told us she works as a waitress and she studied English. She was really proud just to have a job. And all the young kids seem to give out feeling of a huge optimism about the future, especially the girls. It’s very touching, and humbling really, when you consider how little they have. Their ambition isn’t huge, they just want a room of their own and work. Very humbling. Actually, thinking about it there have been very few boys who have spoken with us, they don’t seem to have the same self confidence as the girls. Occasionally they will shout hello and smile, and one tried to sell us a birdcage and some Honda parts but we didn’t need them and felt we couldn’t really justify the expense. It would be nice to have an empty birdcage and a wheel bearing, but probably not practical for us in present circumstances.

Our new little friend on the bus told us where to get off the bus in Dong Ha and shouted at the driver to stop for us.
It was easy to see straight off that Dong Ha isn’t a tourist destination, and easy to see why. The bit we got to ain’t what any reasonable man might call attractive. More what you’d expect him to call dusty.
Our hotel was on the highway through town, a dual carriageway down which vehicles travel at speeds sometimes in excess of twenty miles per hour, with their air raid siren horns blasting almost constantly.

We found the hotel we’d decided we’d stop at by the walking about and stumbling on it method. Booked in, showered, had a discussion with a man about a trip to the DMZ and went out to find some food and drink, it being about midday by now.
We were spotted by Mr Binh, who’d spotted us earlier, when we’d first arrived in town and who’d helpfully helped us with directions to the hotel before asking us if we wanted a tour round the DMZ and suggesting we took him on as a guide.
Well, Mr Binh, who incidentally invented the wastepaper basket, suggested we might like to use the cafe he suggested, not twenty yards away where we could discuss terms of the tour. 
We’d already discussed terms with the bloke who worked at the hotel, maybe, but who equally well might just pretend to, to give himself a more respectably ‘I work for the hotel you’re staying in’ kind of air. It’s never easy to know. We’ve assumed somebody is in the employ of a hotel or restaurant because they’ve been so polite and helpful when they’re actually touting for work, but Mr Binh was offering the same terms and he spoke better English, and he was a veteran of the American War. Plus he had long straggly hair and seemed to like to laugh. We liked him so we agreed to take a bike out with him and another man next day at ten thirty.
Mr Binh left and we stayed to order food and lemon tea.
The cafe was occupied by six women, the youngest of whom was about sixteen and the oldest about sixty I guess.
The youngest was a real spark, slim as all young Vietnamese women and with a careful western hairstyle she probably saved up money for weeks to buy.
She’d sit and say something to the other women and they’d all start giggling. Then she got the nerve to pick up my sunglasses from the table and walk about pretending to be blind.
Then she put on Nel’s sun hat, and her and her friend disappeared and came back with their teeth blacked with tape, sniggering and giggling and showing off.
We were creased up, Nel was crying with laughter and I wet myself with mirth.

Very silly girls

It was so funny and so unselfconscious, they’d sit there and just start to giggle together until they were helpless. The husband of the oldest woman who might have been the owner, or perhaps the father of all of them was watching from the room above and laughing as well.
It was a scruffy little cafe in a town no tourists go to except I think a few to see the DMZ, and they’re no doubt a dwindling minority now the veterans of the American war are getting older.
It’s history and it seems the younger tourists aren’t interested in it.

In all honesty, the DMZ tour doesn’t have a whole lot to recommend it to younger people. A war that finished forty years ago in a country nobody in the west knows much about.
We were in the south now, just below the seventeenth parallel. The actual division is the Benh Hai river and the Americans didn’t much care for the non military zone seven km either side and they carpet bombed it.
Eleven of the three hundred villages survived it.
Mr Binh and his son drove us to a cemetery for the northern soldiers where five thousand were buried, many of them without identification and some of these with markers at the foot of the grave. Mr Binh explained to us that this is because the family have consulted mediums who have pointed out the grave that their son, or father, or uncle is buried in. When the family  have confirmation that this is indeed the right site, from another medium, then they attach the marker to the headstone. There were many.

Right opposite the graveyard is the old French base where the Americans dug in. We went to the museum at Benh Hai and saw the pylons with many speakers bolted to them that the soldiers of both sides used to broadcast propaganda over the river. Shout at each other, in other words.
The south would apparently tempt younger soldiers with appealing music and dancing girls while the south would catch communist vibes from the north side of the river.
If younger soldiers were caught paying too close attention to the southern frivolity, the base commander would send them over the river.
‘If you like it so much, go join them’
It was a miserable day, cold and wet.
Cold and Wet. I’m just repeating it for my own benefit there, couldn’t quite believe what I just said.
Yes, I did say cold and wet didn’t I?

Five foot tall Mr Binh

We rode off to the Vinh Moc tunnels where villagers and soldiers lived together underground by the sea.
Not most peoples idea of a retirement plan but safer when your little cottage by the sea is a target for bombs.
Sixteen children were born there in rooms that Nel couldn’t stand in, maybe eight feet in length and six feet wide. That was a family sleeping room. Cooking was done communally in a similar sized room and there were two wells in the tunnels.
Trenches ran all round the site, where soldiers would run to man the guns when American bombers were spotted. A wretched way to survive a wretched war.
Of course the people went out in the day, but the tunnels were hidden in forest, what you and me call jungle so the kids couldn’t have a kick about, say, or fly a kite, but they were very good at hide and seek I imagine.

After the tunnels and as a bit of relief after so much war, we rode down by the beach.
It was raining, as I said and the beach side towns looked quite similar to beach towns in Britain when it’s raining.
Mr Binh and son stopped at a pepper plantation and showed us the peppercorns, growing on vines wrapped around durian trees. Two crops in one!
Advocates of intensive monoculture show how you can get two or three times more crop from a field. One crop.  This farmer was growing pepper round durian trees and there were vegetables in between. That’s three crops, and probably no fertilisers.

The trenches where northern troops fired upon B-52s which were bombing their village

DMZ day finished up at a little barbeque place where we ate noodles.
No, hang on…I’m not sure it was noodles was it, come to think of it, it may have been steak and chips.
Oh yes it was, of course it was noodles. But it was one of the tastiest meals we’ve had here. It had a taste anyway.
 
And that was DMZ day with Mr Binh and Son, an interesting day, but now I’d like some fun.

To this end we took a taxi to Tam’s Cafe where, according to the travelfish, you’re more likely to meet travellers and where they sell western food. Only we didn’t get a taxi directly to Tam’s Cafe, no. We told the taxi driver where we wanted to go and wrote it down when he looked confused. He smiled and said ok and drove off, calling several numbers to ask people where Tam’s cafe is. Then he stopped to ask a taxi driver, who told him. Then he got lost before giving up and taking us to another taxi where he laughed and said ‘no money’ we’ll no, he’d dropped us farther away than when we’d left the hotel.

After reading the menu and seeing pictures of sandwiches and the steak and chips I went for rice and chicken. At least it wasn’t noodles.
We’d inadvertently stumbled in on an English club where some earnest western girl volunteers were answering questions and helping a class of about thirty mostly young girls aged thirteen to seventeen to learn English. It was very touching, these kids so much want to learn and the young volunteers so much want to help.
Then there was a karaoke competition where we listened to about ten girls mumble and mutter along to songs on DVDs. It was terrible, but in a totally sweet way completely uncontrived and without any cynicism or self consciousness.
In an unattractive town in an unregarded place these kids with nothing much were trying to improve their prospects a little bit. I’m gettin emotional now writing this.
We clapped as enthusiastically as everyone else, for the kids spirits, not for their singing.
The girl who won came across to speak with Nel while I was outside having a cigarette and she’d written in her exercise book what she wanted from her life, that she wants to go study in the UK.
If there’s a god, grant her that eh.
Nel took her mail address and I know that she will be really really thrilled to hear from her.

Karaoke!

This morning I woke early as usual to the sound of shouting cleaners. Nel was still sleeping and I put the tv (television) on low to see how crazy Korea Kim is today. Only I couldn’t because just as I picked up the remote, the electric went off.
In Dong Hoi they get electricity from trees as you’ll know from the last post. Here they use cables, and pylons and whacky overhead cables and just as I picked up the remote, a lorry fell off highway one just down the road from the hotel taking out a tree and a pylon, probably the driver also, judging from the state of the cab, and several hundred watermelons, which helped the locals, who were gathering their five a day.

As a consequence of this, apart from the watermelon carnage and having to walk a mile to get to an ATM that was working, we had to pack our rucksacks in darkness.

We paid up and took a taxi down to Tam’s again for breakfast so we could charge our phones and get online to plan our next move.
We’d booked a train the day before, and now it’s nearly eleven in a sleeper car on the way to Hanoi with three Vietnamese people asleep in here, one man who’s not so much as looked at us and a woman who came in and was joined shortly after by a man. They all went to sleep about eight so we had to put the lights out. I can’t even read a book!
We’ve been here since four this afternoon and we’re scheduled to get into Hanoi at four tomorrow morning, where I pray we will find a cafe open.
We thought about staying overnight but we’re going to head straight to Cat Ba island for a few days of not having to pack bags.
Evan is coming back from oz and Bjela told us she’s hoping to get to Ha Long Bay this weekend, so that will be just nice, we meet up with them there and go back to Hanoi with them for a few days before over to Laos.

So I’m sorry but I have time on my hands and not had the chance to post much lately. There you go. I’m going to try to sleep.

Hanoi at five in the morning through bleary eyes

Photo by the talented http://lebeastsphotos.carbonmade.com/

As you may or may not know, this mustachioed, flat topped duo and their gang of brightly dressed hooligans are on a mission.

A Party Mission. And I am totally serial. 

(Just in case you don’t know what is a Decentralized Dance Party- its this:)

Here are 2 guys (and a bunch of bananas) who’s only goal in life is to take the concept of Partying to the limits.

First they conquered Canada in a Canadream Recreational Vehicle, and fearlessly brought a Tony Little Gazelle to Partiers all over North America.

200 stereos, 8 freeks, 1 giant FM transmitter, 2 fog machines, various props were jammed into the farthest reaches of the RV. A cardboard cut out of some woman we’d never met stood in the shower.The bathroom was full of boomboxes and there were many suits- business suits, banana suits, birthday suits… 

And yes. there were farts. 

The purpose of this strange mission? To throw Dance Parties in every place possible- and liberate the idea of Partying.

Over the past 3 years Tom and Gary have worked tirelessly they have worked tirelessly trying to get people to understand they are doing and why.  

When I found out that the Decentralized Dance Party existed for the first time it was like a moment of clarity.

The potential was awesome.

It was Halloween 2009- myself and 2 friends were wandering Granville St, in Down Town Vancouver. By a twist of fate we were wondering the street at just the right moment. In the distance we saw a large group of people coming toward us. They were mostly dressed as Banana’s (mostly), and they were carrying boom boxes, even more amazing they were playing HOT TRACKS.  It was Booty Bass and it was great.

It was havoc, pure & sweaty, pandemonium- it was a Dance Party.

That night I spoke with fellow wearing Head-to-toe Ed Hardy.

Except it wasn’t Ed Hardy it was ‘Ed Shitty’, he had DRAWN an elaborate mockery on a pair of white jeans and a Tshirt.  The logo was “Killing Fashion Quickly”. 

 It was the Decentralized Dance Party and we were hooked. The next year was pretty much just waiting for the next DDP to happen… we’d gone decentralized and there was no turning back. 

One fateful day a friend messaged me “Tom and Gary are looking for interns, you should totally apply”. So I promptly sent a resume in and attached this photo

(just to show I meant business):

business business.

On the resume I included my favorite Party Songs, my best dance moves, and my thrift store shopping experience (under skillz).

Well the rest is History. Its been 2 years now that I have been devoting time and energy to helping these guys get to the craziest places on Planet Earth and one day launch the Global Party Pandemic, a phenomenon that will involve:

• A Party for all of Planet Earth (including you!)

And may:

•  win us a nobel prize in Partying
• start WWIII 
• Involve Gangdam Style Dance Circle in DMZ North Korea. 

Tom and Gary have thrown more than 50 decentralized street Parties, seen crowds of incredible sizes, crossed boarders, and traversed countries to bring a special experience to every human who wants it.

The Decentralized Dance Party is a statement about what is beautiful and absurd about this strange life.

Photo thanks:
http://lebeastsphotos.carbonmade.com/

The DDP has evolved and with the support of many generous people and the magic of crowd funding. 

Currently Tom and Gary are trying desperately to raise $25,000 on kickstarter.com, to launch the next phase of this project. With just under 4 days left they are a mere $10,000 away from reaching their goal, and they need YOUR HELP to raise the money and come that much closer to throwing the Party the world might not even be ready for…

Saving  the world with partying? Yeah, that shit makes me soo boy crazy. 

If it gets your heart racing too, click this link!! 

Help Tom and Gary Save the World?  

xoxo

For the most part it seems the average American’s mood to all this is one of bravado. I can’t count the number of comments and pictures I’ve seen over the past few days declaring what will happen “If North Korea attacks.”

Things like this:

Titled “What I imagine America will do when North Korea sends a missile to South Korea”

What strikes me most is how lightly everyone commenting on these pictures took them. Jokes were made, slogans were shouted, and not once did I hear anyone actually discuss the full implications of yet another war. The North Korean dictators have been depicted over the years as being insane despots of cartoonish proportions- perhaps this sheds some light on the casual tone so many seem to be taking when discussing the possibility of bombing a nation out of existence. North Korea is not simply some fantasy land comprised entirely of goose-stepping soldiers and a crazy tyrant. It’s simply been depicted that way for so long that we simply can’t comprehend any other way of responding to it.

But war does not look like this:

It looks like this:

It looks like this:

It looks like this:

And this:

And this:

This is the true image of war. It is not clean, it is not quick. It is not great or glorious. Even Dwight D. Eisenhower, leader of the allied forces in WWII and president of the US, understood this simple truth, declaring:

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. The world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.”

And we are not strangers to this fact.

I am 22 years old, and for more than half of my life, the US has been fighting the longest war in it’s already bloody history. I was 11 when the US invaded Afghanistan. Over a decade later, my generation can fight in a war most of us were too young to remember the beginning of.

And now, at the prospect of yet another war, we’re somehow drooling- you’d think hundreds of thousands of dead just might sate our appetite for war.

What makes it all worse is that we’ve seen it all before.

The media insisting that a flamboyant dictator known for grandiose claims and threats…

…who rules a nation still on dial-up…

 …somehow also has weapons of mass destruction…

…Which he intends to use unless we strike first…

One of the few points of pride I’ve claimed about my generation is that unlike our parents, we don’t scare. We’re not willing to throw our money and our soldiers to the flames simply because some oily politician tells us the big bad terrorist bogeymen will get us if we don’t. I’ve said that we’ve been there. That we won’t be fooled again.

I’d like to be able to keep saying that.

Please.

Please.

Don’t make us have to go through this all again.

With its  beautiful, mysterious photo by Jeremy Kai, I think this issue has one of the best-looking literary magazines covers I have seen.

Vịnh Mốc: Life Underground is a personal essay about the  community of people who lived
in almost three kilometres of tunnels in Quảng Trị province, Việt Nam, during the years of heavy U.S. bombing. It is also my story of bringing people to see this subterranean place.

The pages of Descant 160: The Hidden City are filled with fiction, nonfiction, poetry, photos and artwork that explore hidden and unexpected places. Suzana Vukić writes about Montreal’s Griffintown, Yasuko Thanh’s haunting piece takes place in Vancouver, and Jeremy Kai photographs Toronto’s underground. Việt Nam is well represented, appearing not only in my essay, but also in Manny Trinh’s lush, bright paintings of the landscapes of his childhood.

Descant has posted an introduction to this issue along with the table of contents, images and three excerpts. A selection from Vịnh Mốc: Life Underground appears at the bottom of the post.

The launch party for Descant 160 will be on Wednesday, April 10, 2013, from 7:00 to 10:00 p.m. at The Handlebar, 159 Augusta Ave., Toronto, Ontario.

Six contributors  (Ron Charach, Maureen Hynes, Cara-Lyn Morgan, Jim Nason, Sarah Pinder and Kilby Smith-McGregor), will be reading, along with this years’ Winston Collins/Descant Poetry Prize winner, John Lee. It promises to be a great evening.

The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) is the perfect example of what will happen when rogue regimes acquire nuclear weapons. They use them to intimidate their enemies, extort concessions from those that will negotiate with them, and sell the technology to the highest bidder. Regime change or war is the only way to stop them.  (Read the full column at EWRoss.com)

3.29.2013 Imjingak DMZ – Dorasan Station

The DMZ, civilian control zone is the northernmost place of the south, where is around 700 meters from South Limited Line. Dorasan station was opened followed by Imjin River station of Oct. 2001. This occupied the attention of the world when US president Bush visited on 20 Feb. 2002. A special train traveled through Imjin River on 12 Feb. 2002 in 52 years since a train stopped. A milestone of Dorasan station, which reads ‘205km from Pyeongyang and 56km from Seoul, has hope and anticipation for the future as well as the reality of division. It is expected that Dorasan station will be in charge of services for customs and clearance of men and goods and a hub of trade among North Korea, China, and Russia when the railroad of the Gyeongui line is connected. Therefore, this is a historic spot where is a symbol of division and a gateway of exchanges between the south and north at the same time.

credit: http://dmz.gg.go.kr/eng/Tour/t_view03.asp

we managed to visit imjingak dmz a day before north korea declared a state of war against south korea. it was scary although we didn’t feel any tension yet during our stay there. anyway, we’re just so glad to be home now coz we don’t really know what will happen next. *prays for peace*

Our first stop was one of four tunnels constructed by the North Korean side to penetrate the city of Seoul, undetected.  In a museum there, I learned that North Korea is actually referred to as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK).  A more inaccurate name does not exist.  We were corralled into a dark auditorium for a video screening that outlined the shape of the demarcation line and graphically demonstrated the extent of the demilitarized zone (DMZ).  It was loud and outdated.  The tone was confusing as it played between extreme outrage and softer messages of peace.  Outside the auditorium, there was a photographic timeline that educated me on events (some as recent as the 1980′s) that I had never heard of before.  The axe murder incident and the Soviet defector incident to name a few.  As we walked through the exhibits, countless events were described where the DPRK acted maliciously and with absolute deceit.   Again, I felt uneasy.

We moved in a single file line toward the tunnel entrance and were given bright yellow hard hats.  We began to walk down a steep concrete path that offered enough space for one average-sized human to walk on either side.  This was the side that had been constructed for tourism to allow a glimpse at the original tunnel, crudely excavated by the North.  We continued plunging down into the earth reaching a depth of 240 feet and approached the transition point into tunnel number three.  We hunched like apes to avoid colliding with the granite above our heads and the hard hats started to make sense.  We breathed heavily and stumbled, clunking our heads as we were overtaken by much smaller Korean tourists who cruised right through.  Coal dust coated the rock walls.  The coal had been planted there, after the rudimentary passageways were discovered, in an attempt to cover up the blatantly obvious motive for their construction: to funnel 30,000 North Korean soldiers per hour into the city of Seoul.  When we arrived at the end, there were two dense walls of concrete.  Each with a tiny viewing window looking North.  I am certain that this tunnel is constantly monitored with sophisticated technology, but I would have felt even better if there had been armed guards at the concrete barriers.  With little fanfare, we acknowledged the end of the tunnel and turned around for the more difficult climb back up.

We stopped at a few more places before reaching the Joint Security Area (JSA), but they were primarily focused on tourism and did little to ruffle my feathers.  As we arrived at the gate to the JSA, an armed soldier boarded the bus and checked our documents.  He walked slowly, studying each face and matching identification card.  I was somehow comforted by the glistening pistol that our new tour guide carried at his side.  We continued driving and he explained the protocol for this portion of the tour.  No sudden movements, no hand gestures, no adjustments of hats or hoods, and no photos to be taken facing South.  He frequently reminded us that we were being watched from the other side.  Similar to the tunnel stop, we were first gathered in a dark auditorium to be briefed.  What followed was one of the most captivating presentations I’ve seen in a while.  A second soldier began to speak, his voice steady and smooth with commanding volume.  I felt like he had the entire place under control.  When we were dismissed, we assembled in two single file lines and progressed in two groups outside to a series of bright blue buildings.  There, one of the American soldiers pointed out the DPRK Recreational Facility and noted that no recreational equipment has ever entered the building.  Instead, it is lovingly referred to as the “monkey house” because members of the Korean People’s Army (KPA) use it as a platform for making obscene gestures toward the South.  Like an unamused older sibling, the Republic of Korea (ROK) soldiers stand powerfully in a ready taekwondo stance with cold stares behind dark glasses.

We eventually entered one of the blue buildings that opened to a conference room.   This room was designed to house peace talks between the two sides and the United Nations.  Our guide motioned for us to gather around a central table and he said a few words, closing with, “those of you to my right are still in South Korea, those of you to my left are now in North Korea”.  He explained that the JSA used to be an open area where members from either side could come and go freely.  Now, the concrete demarcation line boldly separates the two countries and the conference room has remained empty for quite some time.

The last point of interest at the JSA was one of the observation towers that offered a clear view of and was surrounded on three sides by North Korea.  There, we were able to see a group of buildings called “Propaganda Village”.  The story of this place underlined the lunacy of North Korea’s leadership.  The buildings are merely shells, with windows and doors painted on.  The idea was to demonstrate the thriving lifestyle in North Korea and attract defectors from the South.  So far, Propaganda Village has a zero percent success rate.  It was apparent however, from the behavior of the KPA soldiers on the day we visited, that they have been so deeply indoctrinated with their leader’s childish antics that they no longer play like grown-ups.  One of the North Korean guards periodically popped out from behind a concrete pillar as our group moved on the opposite side.  When we directed our attention to him, he would nimbly jump back out of sight.  He was like a puppy starved for attention.

It’s worth noting that the day was exceptionally gray.  A sheet of continuous drizzle made everything cold, wet and slightly uncomfortable.  It wasn’t until I returned home from Seoul that I realized how “on edge” I felt during my stay there, I didn’t feel like myself.  I awakened to the idea that I may have just been afraid.  My fear had very little to do with the place itself and even less to do with the people.  Instead, it had everything to do with my own imagination and the Cable News Network.  There was little to no evidence of anything out of the ordinary in Seoul city, it was business as usual.  Occasionally, Kim Jong Un’s name would vibrate across the radio waves, but the heightened state of tension described by the American media was imperceptible.  Even as we made stops on our tour of “the most dangerous place on earth”, people appeared relaxed, perusing souvenirs and drinking coffee.  The mild discomfort that I experienced pales in comparison to the daily threats that some populations endure. Ultimately, my visit to this part of the world helped me appreciate the resilient human spirit that finds a way to live fully and without apology despite its circumstances.

Two South Korean guards hold hands whilst opening the door into North Korea incase one gets pulled in.

Since Korea opened up to outside influence in the late nineteenth century, much like many other small kingdoms, was turned into a pawn in the chessboard of empire building. This process set Korea up to be misused and abused by forces outside their control, and today we are experiencing the continued results of this.

Unlike Ireland, which is also a product of imperialism, modern Korea is a result of the lobbying and gamesmanship which didn’t effect Ireland as it was already well entrenched in the British imperial model of manipulation and exploitation. The imperialism that changed Korea was quite different.

A pre-colonial 1851 map of Japan and Korea – note how little is known of the Korean coastline, compared with Japan. (image courtesy of antiqueprints.com)

Following the arrival of the Japanese (note: not a great power, more on this later) in Korea, and later reactions by the French and American navies on Korean territory, Korea gradually opened up its borders and allowed foreigners to enter Korea. Many came as diplomats, government officials, businessmen, and of course missionaries.

If you visit Seoul and spend some time close to Seoul City Hall, take a wander around the streets and occasionaly you’ll happen upon an old European styled building. Several are pre-Japanese rule and can give you a sample of how these new people began to shape a new Seoul with their influence.

Korea, and especially Seoul began to change rapidly. In fact some Irishmen were heavily involved in this enterprise, notably John McLeavy Brown who functioned as chief of Korea’s customs and as treasurer. While McLeavey Brown was functioning here it’s important to note the Japanese influence in Korea was on the increase.

I’ve read a few articles on this situation and for some reason they seem to point the finger at Japanese imperialism, but let’s not forget what year this was, and who McLeavy Brown was representing; he was the representative of the British Empire, not Great Britain or the UK, the British Empire, and this was a time when they were really the Empire.

Of course Britain was one of the Great Powers, the others of course were France, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Russia, and to a lesser extent Italy. Britain, on the world stage, were by far the most significant entity by a large stretch. The British Empire had significant interests in the Far East, especially in China, but also trade with Japan and I can also assume with Korea.

One of the Empire’s biggest concerns was securing the safety of their Indian Empire which was constantly under threat due to the distance from London, but also from the encroachments by the Russian Empire to the north. Much of the eastern expansion of the Empire was to protect their key valuable south Asian empire. Due to this constant pressuring on the extremities of the British Empire, they established Port Hamilton on Komundo, which is between Yeosu and Jeju Island, in 1885. The base didn’t last long but there are still some remnants in the shape of a cemetery.

The Great Game – Russia and Britain at the turn of the twentieth century.

However, the British didn’t last long here despite the dangers from the Russians to the north in Vladivostok. As a means of establishing security and relieving the pressure on the Royal Navy which was significantly stretched in this area, an alliance were sought, and it was to Japan that the diplomats looked.  In 1902 the first Anglo-Japanese Alliance was signed in London.

Not only did this allow the British the security of an ally in very distant place, it also signified the rise of this up until then very small and provincial empire in the east. More importantly it was Japan’s first real foray into colonialism.

It seems to me that this alliance escapes mention, and that Japan’s first major colonial venture did not go unsupported, and was in fact guided and assisted by the greatest power in the world at that time, the British Empire. This was a period long before the United States came to power – itself busy with its own internal colonialism – and a time when China, a huge empire in its own right, was crumbling under the pressure of the Great Powers commercial expansion in its territories.

In fact the only power at the time capable of rivalling Britain was the German Empire, but this had grown disillusioned with colonialism and was concentrating on its own prominence in Europe. This was a very different Germany of course to one you may confuse with the Third Reich of World War 2 infamy. The other European powers, namely the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the French, and the Russians, were in notable decline by the beginning of the twentieth century.

With the signing of the Anglo-Japanese treaty, Britain essentially gave its blessing to any Japanese expansion that did not conflict with British interests. In 1906 the Japanese secured their prominence by defeating the Russians in the Russo-Japanese War. The Treaty of Portsmouth was Japan’s prize in this conflict, as well as a renegotiated alliance with Britain, which effectively guaranteed the Japanese complete and unhindered access to the Empire of Korea, which eventually led to Korea being annexed in 1910. With this Korea became another coin in the trading of nations which epitomised the colonial bargaining and pillage of the Great Powers.

Japanese soldiers near Incheon during the Japo-Russo War, 1904 (image courtesy of wikipedia)

Like Morocco and the rest of North Africa, modern day Cambodia and Laos, Nepal, Afghanistan, and so many more territories during that period, European colonial powers carved them up with a pen on a map and distributed them like pieces of cake. Korea’s real carving though would have to wait another forty years.

The dividing of the far east by colonial powers was a colourful affair. (image courtesy of Wikipedia)

To add insult to injury, Korea was again left to the mercy of the dividing pen at the end of World War 2. Korea was not liberated, nor did it win its independence, this was gifted with the collapse of the Japanese Empire in 1945, and this played an important factor in defining the nation’s future. Korea again was set as a buffer between the US and the newly arrived Soviets, who essentially moved the majority of their army from one side of the world to the other following the fall of Germany in a desperate attempt to prevent US hegemony on their Asian doorstep, and they achieved this.

Korean’s watched again as external forces dictated their immediate future, but this time their country was not occupied but it was divided in two. I think it can be safe to say that we know the outcome of this.

The demilitarised zone between North and South Korea.

In the twentieth century two events sealed the fate of this small peninsula. These events, despite the internal mechanisms which may have fought against them, came from outside Korea and were perpetrated by imperial powers. Today both North and South Korea rely heavily on the assistance of their major allies, while those who initially began the process of determining their fate over 100 years ago have relinquished their hegemony.

Much of their rhetoric can be traced to this, perhaps. South Korea insists on standing strong, determined not to let what it has fought hard to achieve be lost in conflict. South Korea has clearly learned its lessons from the past, and while of course now a wealthy nation with much influence in international affairs, has the military support of the United States behind it, the British Empire of our time.

North Korea is not without its lessons also. It’s anti imperialistic rhetoric will certainly ring clearly in the ears of those who live there, as I do not doubt that imperialism is a regular topic in history class. And we all watch as both rattle sabres again, demanding precedence but without much of an idea whether or not one will lunge.

Such is the way the world operates I suppose, but I think this history is worth considering when we try to understand the thinking by both nations at a difficult and tense time like this.

This is a rather rough account of my general thought – I don’t really have any further reading links other than the odd Wikipedia one which I used to confirm dates and treaty names. 

Open the newspaper today and/or click-over to cable news and you will hear that North Korea is again in the news.

My blog today is to remind Americans of the Korean War – “The Forgotten War” or “The Unknown War” because of the lack of public attention it received both during and after the war.

The U.S.A. provided 88% of the 341,000 soldiers that were assigned to aid South Korean forces in their battle against North Korea.

After 3-years of fighting, an armistice agreement was signed. The agreement restored the border between the Koreas near the 38th Parallel and created the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), a 2.5-mile wide fortified buffer zone between the two Korean nations. Minor incidents have continued through 2013.

It’s the war that never really ended.

The Korean currency is called “won,” hence the title of the post.

One of my favorite images is that of the Korean peninsula at night, where one can see Seoul and the rest of the republic of Korea in it’s bright glory compared to the bleak darkness of North Korea.  While we were visiting the DMZ as tourists, we were informed that the North declared a “state of war” against the South.  This is nothing more than more of the same political posturing that always exists on the peninsula, even though tensions do seem higher than normal.  Once armed soldiers search your tour bus you know you are in a dangerous border area.

Korean Peninsula

After the DMZ we went to the NLL (Northern Limit Line), which is the maritime version of the DMZ in the western sea.  Viewing the North Koreans there is just like viewing any other type of person, working in the fields on a cool day.  The highlight though was probably just chatting with Koreans and other travelers from the United States, Australia, Hong Kong, and Japan about Korean politics.  The current president of the Republic of Korea is somewhat unpopular with younger people because she recently supported legislation making the length of skirts to be worn at a more conservative length.

N. Korea from S. Korea

Statue

Changdoekgung

Later, I went to the Korean War museum and really enjoyed the exhibit, especially the statue of the two brothers who were on the opposing sides of the conflict – amazing.  It was a funny coincidence seeing a couple of people at the Changdeokgung Palace who were also on the bus with us for the DMZ tour.

Overall I’ve really enjoyed my experience in Korea, with the friendly people, good food, and futuristic feel and look of everything.

After a long flight, it was nice to get to India for my second visit in three years.  There is just something about the energy and craziness of the streets here, and I gotta say I love the food, the warm weather, and the friendly people.  My travel partner, Chris, took this great photo of me near Powai Lake.  I’m not sure what he said to me to get that look on my face, but it’s awesome.

Powai, Mumbai, India

Powai

Little girl

• February 12, 2013: North Korea conducts underground nuclear tests
• March 11, 2013: North Korea cancels 60 year old armistice agreement
• March 14, 2013: North Korea conducts short-range missile tests
• March 20, 2013: North Korea cyberattacks South Korea
• March 27, 2013: North Korea cuts hotline to Kaesong industrial complex
• March 29, 2013: North Korea signs missile preparation agreement that places military on standby to strike South Korea and U.S. mainland
• April 2, 2013: North Korea announces it will restart operations at the Nyongbyon nuclear site.
• April 3, 2013: North Korea denies South Koreans entrance into Kaesong industrial complex.

In 1953, the Korean Armistice Agreement was created between North and South Koreans.  Technically, the two Koreas are still at war.  They never signed a peace treaty; just a cessation of conflicts until a final and peaceful solution can be attained.  In this agreement, the area around the 38^th parallel created a new border between the two countries.  The new border is called the Military Demarcation Line (MDL).  Each side of the border has a 2-kilometer zone, totaling to a gap of 4-kilometers.  This 4km region is what the world calls the Korean Demilitarized Zone, or the DMZ.

Looking into the DMZ

The rules:

• Both countries may have military personnel patrol on their half of the DMZ.   This means both countries have the right to guard against potential troubles from the other side.
• Soldiers may not cross the MDL.
• The area is forbidden to larger troops and heavy weaponry like tanks and artillery.
• Ironically, the Korean DEmilitarized Zone is actually the most militarized zone in the world.

The tour lasts about 9 hours and you are taken to numerous locations throughout the DMZ – on the South’s side, of course.     The zone’s rules make for a long list – some are quite unusual – but are strictly enforced.  I think I had the hardest time with the “no pointing” rule!  You even have to sign waivers before entering.  Similar to a bungee jumping waiver, you are acknowledging the level of danger.  I think the strict rules and the waiver made the trip even more exciting.  It adds an element of suspense to the trip.

As we entered the DMZ, we were shuttled from place to place.  You don’t spend too much time in one area, but that’s okay.  You have a lot to see, so you must keep up with the quick pace.

These were my favorite parts:

3^rd Infiltration Tunnel

This sounds as bad as it should.  Around 1978, the South discovered a 3^rd infiltration tunnel leading into South Korea – a total of four have been discovered and they imagine there are several others still.  The tunnel goes underneath the DMZ and passes into the South’s half.  The South labeled the tunnel as a form of aggression from the North – an attempt to surprise attack the South even after the armistice was signed.  However, the North claims the tunnel was simply dug in search for coal, and they did not intend to cross into the South.  Oh, North Korea, you are really funny sometimes.   The funniest part was the lack of coal.  As the North was digging the tunnel, they painted coal marks on the edges of the blasted rocks in an effort to prove their point.  The South, on the other hand, insists there is no geological possibility of coal being in this area.

*You are not allowed to take picture in my most areas of the DMZ; therefore, we do not have any pictures from the tunnel experience.

Joint Security Area (JSA):

The JSA is the best part of the entire trip.  This is the area on the MDL – the exact border between the two countries.   The area is literally a remnant from the Cold War era.  The area is the property of a small village that was at the center of the final battle of the Korean War and where the armistice was signed.  Today, the land represents the Joint Security Area – North and South Koreans in the same area.  The two countries still remain on their side of the MDL, but they have buildings within yards from one another.

The blue buildings (you can see in the pictures) represent the joint security area.  Unless a formal conference is in session, the two sides cannot enter the building simultaneously.   Before we entered the JSA, a group was touring from the North’s side.  We had to wait in the South Korean building while the North’s tour was being administered.  After they finished, the doors leading to North Korea were locked, and we were granted access.

Here is the cool part:  we were able to step INTO North Korea!  The building lies directly in the middle of the MDL; therefore half of the building is on the South’s side and half is on the North’s side.  Years ago, tours from the South were not allowed to cross the room and enter the North’s side of the building.  A conference table in the center of the room has a line of microphones down the middle.  Tourists were not allowed to cross this line of microphones.  These days, the ruling has changed and you are allowed to walk to the far end of the room   Okay, it might have been only a few feet into their country, but it’s still fun to say I’ve been to North Korea!  Amidst all of the media drama, it makes it seem even better.  Or maybe scarier?

Standing in North Korea! That is a South Korean guard by the way – guarding the door so no one decides to bolt and run into North Korea. Ha! Like I would want to do that!

North Korea is behind us.

North Korea is behind us.

The Bridge of No Return: The bridge was used at the end of the war. Prisoners of war were given the option to go back into their home country. Many POW’s released by the United States decided not to return and stayed in South Korea. Once a POW crosses over the bridge, they can never return.

Other facts about the DMZ:

• The two Koreas will compete for EVERYTHING.  The two sides had a battle of the flag for years.  The North built a flagpole on their side of the DMZ – easily seen by South Koreans.  The South responded by building a taller one.  Both sides reconstructed flagpoles in order to beat the other side.  Eventually the South conceded and allowed the North to win this silly battle.  Today, the North’s flagpole is the third tallest in the world!
• The DMZ represents a nature reserve for many animals.  Habitation for humans is nearly impossible in many parts of the DMZ, however this has lead to one of the most well preserved habitats in the world.   The endangered Korean Tiger is said to be living in this zone!
• Since the signing of the armistice, over 50 American soldiers and over 500 South Koreans have lost their lives to North Korean violence.
• As you drive along the one and only road leading into North Korea, you will go under what looks like several overpasses.  Wrong.  These are actually cement blocks rigged with explosives.  The South will use these to their advantage if the North attempts a ground attack.
• The guards at JSA wear big dark sunglasses.  I was told this was to prevent staring contests.  I told you they compete for everything.

A few random pictures from the tour:

A group of North Koreans were hanging out behind us. Derrick wanted a picture with them.

Ringing the Peace Bell

Dorasan Station

Dorasan Station

Dorasan Station. They built this station in hopes of the two nations unifying and using the same rail system. This would also be used to import/export goods from other countries, too. Currently, no trains roll in or out of this station. It’s kind of like a ghost town.

I’d like to think the trip was relatively safe.  Why else would they allow 200,000 tourists per year?  As safe as it may be at times, it was still a little eerie to be in this zone.  Many, many lives were lost in this area, aggression is still at its peak, both sides are known to have an itchy trigger finger at times AND it’s still considered a war zone.   Doesn’t that sounds like the best tourist spot?!   If you ever visit Korea, I would say it’s a must.  You learn and experience the history of Korea.  The stories come to life while you are seeing each site and the history is astonishing.

The two Koreas are technically still at war and some days (weeks or even years) are better than others, so I am not sure exactly how long the program will continue.  Unless a major event happens, I think the tours will last for years and years to come – hopefully ending when the two countries unify again and not due to escalated violence.

Love,

Car

Throughout the rise in tensions on the Korean peninsula, observers have been heartened by the fact that North Korea’s Kaesong factory complex, staffed by South Korean managers and the source of $2 billion a year in annual trade, has remained open.

Until today.

North Korea on Wednesday delayed access to Kaesong. South Korea’s Unification Ministry said that its workers were being permitted to leave, but that the entry of new workers has been suspended. AFP noted that closing the factory “would mark a clear escalation of tensions beyond all the military rhetoric.”

Some 800 South Korean workers remain at Kaesong and South Korean Defence Minister Kim Kwan-jin said he was “examining all options” to ensure their safety, Reuters reported. Despite the freeze on staff movements into the facility, many factories are still operating normally, one manager told the YTN news channel.

Prior to the Kaesong closure, North Korea’s most recent escalation was its announcement on Tuesday that it plans to restart a nuclear reactor it uses to generate plutonium for its weapons program. It has closed access to Kaesong once before, after joint US-South Korean military exercises in 2002.

South Korea’s main KOSPI Index was trading down 0.49% to 1,976.43 at midday local time. The won hit a six-month low after news of the Kaesong closure.

Stay tuned for further updates.

Recently, Kim instructed his military’s rocket units to be on the ”highest alert” as he assumes a bellicose posture in a long-running faceoff with the international community over North Korea’s nuclear program. The latest provocations are a reaction to additional United Nations sanctions levied against the rogue state for its development of intercontinental ballistic missiles capable of striking the American mainland. Directing his threats to the United States, he promised that military bases in Hawaii and Guam as well as continental America itself would be “reduced to ashes and flames the moment the first attack is unleashed.” A direct phone line to South Korea was cut off, which was the only communicative link between the two countries, as they have no formal diplomatic relations. Last week, the rotund ruler determined that the time to “settle accounts with the US imperialists” was nigh. North Korea watchers agree that most of his tough talk is bluster intended to intimidate the South and force the US and UN into making concessions. Still, Kim’s regime is quite unpredictable compared to that of his father, the quirky yet reliably pragmatic autocrat Kim Jong Il.

Then just days ago, Kim audaciously declared that the North and South are now in a “state of war.” This is in spite of the fact that the Korean War, which raged between the two from 1950 to 1953, officially never ended. Both have technically been at war since the 1953 armistice, yet hostilities have not boiled over besides the occasional skirmish. In other words, dude has serious balls. It’s just too bad that he hasn’t seen them in years and accidentally sits on both from time to time. Even Beijing has shown signs that it’s tired of its ally’s shenanigans. North Korea is that drunk prick starting fights with everyone at a party and China is the loyal friend who tries to calm their belligerant comrade yet can only look on helplessly as challeneges of “Come at me bro!” transition into fisticuffs.

As spring approached and Kim appeared hellbent on making it a nuclear winter, he summoned an American celebrity to his secluded country. Sorry. “Celebrity” in quotations is very necessary in this particular instance. A longtime fan of the Chicago Bulls NBA team, Kim welcomed walking pin cushion and venereal disease petri dish Dennis Rodman to sample the delights of his homeland. He would have picked Michael Jordan, but even Kim was turned off by Air Jordan’s Hanes commercial Hitler mustache. He’s not that much of a monster, for chrissakes. So Kim and Rodman sat together in the president’s primo seats, watching b-ball games, kickin’ back, getting matching prince alberts. You know, all the cool stuff homeboys do. But it was all for naught, because Kim’s pugnacious disposition only worsened after Rodman and his HBO reality show camera crew departed.

The diplomacy of The Worm was not well-received by The Slug, Secretary of State John Kerry. “Dennis Rodman was a great basketball player,” Kerry remarked to a reporter. “And as a diplomat, he is a great basketball player. And that’s where we’ll leave it.”  In response, Kim told state television, “Oh, that’s John Kerry?! Like, THE John Kerry? We learned how to make our propaganda films from those Swift Boat ads mentioning him! Tell that guy thanks for the tips.”

North Korea has also goaded the rest of the world into a confrontation by releasing a series of photographs depicting the precise targets of a nuclear strike. Bullseyes you’d expect to see, such as Hawaii, Washington DC and Southern California are present. But the unconventional choice of Austin, TX is on there too. Is Kim not a fan of the Longhorns? Does he agree with the rest of the world that Rick Perry should not be anywhere near the governor’s mansion? Did Kenny Loggins’s set at South By Southwest send him over the top?

This excessive grandstanding is assuredly all a ruse to better position himself in talks with the West and cement his authority domestically. The North Korean military holds much sway over the nation’s affairs and the boy emperor must convince those at home and abroad that he is the unquestioned leader. But perhaps he is the Manchester Candidate, a pro-Western mole willing to his democratize his kingdom? Is there a chance that Kim Jong Un is playing an aggressive hand in this international card game because he wants to actually open up North Korea to the world?

Educated in Switzerland’s International School of Berne during his formative years, Kim has ample experience living in the West. He’s a lover of both Disney and washed-up 90s sports stars, as evidenced earlier in this post. Believed to be in his late 20s or possibly very early 30s, he must be down with the Facebook and the Twitter and the Respect for Human Rights. Because if there’s anything for which the Millennial Generation is known, it would undoubtedly be thoughtful consideration of others and a total lack of self-absorption.

Is there a conceivable scheme that could result in Kim loosening the constraints his own family has placed upon North Korea? Think about it: he cannot simply amble to his balcony and declare to the people “Hey everyone! This whole communism bit was fun while it lasted, but now it’s time to get down to business. And I do mean business. Seriously, what’s left of your dilapidated living spaces will be bulldozed to make way for a shopping mall selling nothing but heavily discounted Gangnam Style memorabilia.” If he dared take that step, the military brass would surely conspire to assassinate the would-be liberator. Look at Mikhail Gorbachev; while he never meant to bring about the demise of the Soviet Union, his reformist policies set the USSR on that path. For years he prolonged the unsuccessful Soviet military adventure in Afghanistan and refused to tear down some wall in Germany just because the Gipper publicly demanded it. He maintained a tough posture and even managed to survive and return to power after a failed coup perpetrated by conspirators within his own government. In the same vein, Kim must first reinforce his authority in North Korea. Then he might hold enough sway with the formidable military establishment to open the country to the outside world ala China or to even reunify with its estranged other half, South Korea.

Worst case scenario, Kim instigates an invasion by American forces just so the goal of wresting North Korea from its communist confines is carried out by the US. Then he seeks asylum with the secretly-welcomed occupiers and the West is on the hook for rebuilding that country’s society from the ground up. Of course, this is mere speculation and probably will not come to pass. His cushy lifestyle and expansive power are far too treasured to yield in pursuit of a Nobel Peace Prize and possible trial for human rights abuses already committed.

The portly despot’s histrionic rhetoric is more than likely all for show on an international stage. Realistically, odds are that he has no designs on erasing the DMZ. This entire saga illustrates a real-life Dr. Strangelove: a bizarre saga with outlandish characters, ham-handed political maneuverings and farcical circumstances framing a rather frightening scenario of mutually-assured nuclear destruction. Unlike Stanley Kubrick’s seminal Cold War satire, hopefully this theater of the absurd does not devolve into a theater of war.

These views were naturally amplified by the world’s media showing the 1950′s style military parades with seemingly millions of goose-stepping soldiers in perfect synchronisation and massive ballistic missiles being show-cased beneath a bunch of generals with too many badges to fit on their uniforms and with the adoring masses cheering from every vantage point. Throw in a few grossly over-sized monuments to Kim Il Sung, the ubiquitous hammer and sickle and a few disastrous missile launch attempts and you have a basket-case of a failed Soviet state firmly living in an increasingly irrelevant past, watching its few former friends finally reject Marxism, Leninism, Stalinism or whatever, tear down the monuments to those who were once adored and start on the perilous task of catching up with capitalist reality.

As a final reminder of things to come I had the wise words of Juche Travel Services, my London-based travel organiser whose “hints and tips” page had this useful information:

“The DPRK possesses a unique social and political system, and visitors to the country are asked to respect this.  Regardless of your own views, the people of the DPRK hold the eternal President Kim Il Sung and his son in extremely high regard.  Any outward criticism, sarcasm or negative comments about either individual will not be tolerated…During the tour, there may well be times when you find yourself strongly disagreeing with the DPKR’s official stance on various matters, or how a certain event in history is portrayed.  In such a case, we suggest you are diplomatic in your approach.  It will do you and your guides no favours at all to start arguing and criticising;  you will find yourself out of favour and unable to get the best from your tour.”

Still, I was determined to be as open minded as possible.  Maybe,  just maybe, North Korea had found a way to make socialism work, all people to be equal and equally happy working for the glorious State, turning their back on the rest of the world and continuing to adore the eternal leader guiding their destiny from above.  Maybe, they were not following down the path of Enver Hoxha, Nicolae Ceausescu and Erich Honecher, to an inglorious and bitter end, with statues toppling and the people voting with their feet.

Getting a Visa

My decision to undertake a 4 day/3 night adventure to North Korea was part of the quest to visit all Asian countries. I had my eye on the country for at least a decade as visa requirements vary constantly depending on the whim of the Government and its perceived relationship with South Korea and the west. For many years it was totally closed while at other times they even allow limited access from the south. As of July 2012 it was open to foreigners but only organised tours accompanied by a driver and two guides with no access to anything or anyone other than what was listed on the approved itinerary.

All travel is with the Korea International Travel Company (KITC) which is obviously not a company but a State monopoly. Curiously, it was not possible to book directly with them only through an agent. I chose London-based Juche Travel Services where David, the owner (and I suspect sole employee of a web-based company working from a shoe-box) was most helpful. Like our earlier trips to Bhutan and Mali there is always a danger in sending of a wad of deposit dollars to such companies but I had done what checking I could and took the plunge – after all if was only 50% of a little over Euro 1,000. David was well connected with KITC whose Beijing based employee, Mr. Chae, also worked out of a shoe-box, or more exactly a chair in the office of the North Korean airlines company, Koryo Airlines, which was in the same complex as the Swissotel. David sent me details of various packages and I chose the shortest one involving a Beijing to Pyongyang flight with China Air and a return overnight rail journey.

Koryo Air had more flights but I studiously avoided an airline rated by IATA as one of the most unsafe in the world with a fleet of ageing Russian built Tupolev planes that have a habit of falling out of the sky. All but two of Koryo’s aircraft were banned by the European Union in 2010 as being unsafe.

I e-mailed David my passport details and the answers to a few other questions and we arranged for me to pick up my tickets and loose-leaf visa from Chae at the Koryo office on the afternoon of 24 July, the same day that I flew in from Dushanbe, Tajikistan. I had booked into the Swissotel which is literally right alongside a subway station with just one train change to the new fast train to Beijing airport.  This is about a smooth a transfer that is possible – through immigration in a flash, on to the train, room ready at the Swissotel and me sitting with Mr Chae with visa and tickets in hand no more than a couple of hours later. My fears of a bureaucratic nightmare were unfounded – it was just as David had said, getting a North Korean visa is actually very easy.

Introduction to DPRK

Being open minded about what to expect is one things – the reality stared me in the face before I even boarded the plane. There were about 50 North Koreans in the waiting area and they were all identically dressed in white or light blue shirts and dark pants and every one of them was wearing a little red badge with a picture of “The Great Leader” or of “the Great Leader” and his son “The Great General”. Was this compulsory State policy or did they really love them that much? – it was something I wanted to get to the bottom of by the end of my trip.

This group also had something else in common – they all had massive amounts of carry-on luggage that was way beyond the limit. No one had less than about 20 kilos and some had much more. The worst offender was a guy with a full size suit case, another two bags, a briefcase sized bag and two lots of duty free in plastic bags. He was physically unable to lift it all. How they had got past the check-in was beyond me but now the counter staff were fighting a losing battle trying to take it off them – as they were tagging one person’s bags the next three or four simply sidestepped around them and boarded the plane. Much of this stuff would not fit in the overhead lockers so some ended up in the emergency exits and others in seats as fortunately the plane was not full. The China Air flight attendants took all this with an air of resignation which  pointed to this being a regular occurrence. Being a “closed country” foreign goods are hard to come by in the DPRK and my hunch was that these people, fortunate enough to have passports and exit visas, were amongst the small privileged group of North Koreans who could side-step the normal rules that applied to the faithful masses.

Pyongyang

Ha Sunseng introduced herself in English and welcomed me to the DPRK. It was immediately obvious she was the “leader” of my group. She was in her mid-30 and later told me she had previously been a professor of English which was surprising as her English skills were average at best. She had a 3 year old son and a husband and had joined KITC from the University because she liked meeting people which seemed strange as she took very little interest in me throughout the duration of our trip.

Kang, pronounced more like Kung, was the driver.  He was a bit younger though he had been with KITC for eight years. He had a nice smile and I figure would have been a reasonable sort of guy but with no English we really couldn’t communicate. Pak, pronounce more like puck, was the other guide who took up the front passenger side seat in this Chinese built SUV and didn’t say much, though his English was marginally better than Ha’s. It seemed he was really along for the ride and Ha, sitting beside me in the back seat, was to do most of the work.

It was a bumpy, 25 kilometres, and ride into Pyongyang along a reasonable dual highway with virtually no traffic. The indoctrination began almost immediately. In the first hour of my visit I was to hear the name of the eternal leader, Kim Il Sung , at least 100 times. It seemed he was responsible for everything that had ever happened in the DPRK. Ha asked me if I knew of Juche thought and principles. I had because I had done some research on “the Great Leader” but I wasn’t going to give her any satisfaction, so I said that I hadn’t. She went on to explain that the Great Leader had developed this philosophical approach to national development in which “the people” are put in the centre over every situation – all power emanates from the people and the people control the destiny of the nation. It was as much as I could do to stop bursting out in laughter in a country where the people have absolutely no say in anything.

It was already apparent that I was going to have a difficult time with Ms Ha. The “hints and tips” David of Juche travel had provided to me including to basically “button my lip” and take all this crap was going to be a real struggle. Miss Ha expected me to remember everything she told me about the glorious leader. If she pointed out something that I was supposed to know about and I didn’t recall, she always prefaced her remarks with “But I’ve already told you that…….” .

Still, I could tune out to her constant prater about this monument being 17.5 meters high and 86 meters wide and so on and have a look around me. Pyongyang was not unappealing. Having been totally destroyed by allied bombing in the Korean War, it was a relatively modern city in typical Soviet style – wide streets and footpaths in a rectangular street pattern with block upon block of apartments that had never ever been properly finished and certainly not properly maintained. A coat of paint would have made a good deal of difference to the ambience of the place but, to be fair, the streets were clean and tidy and the parks and squares all in good shape, with fountains that actually worked and with not a bit of graffiti to be seen anywhere. It was in better shape than many American cities so I guess that was an unexpected plus.

Being a Soviet style  socialist system there was absolutely no advertising yet there were massive billboards everywhere – all featuring pictures of the Great Leader or of the Great Leader and his son Kim Jong Il, the Great General. There was a billboard every couple of blocks and smaller pictures on walls all over the place. There were other things besides advertising that were missing – there was virtually no traffic, no bicycles (which having just come from bicycle-mad Beijing was most noticeable) and no taxis. The Soviet stereotype was reinforced by the overcrowded 50 year old cable buses and by the drab clothing and even drabber shop-fronts. There were also no traffic lights with what little traffic as there was being occasionally controlled by lady traffic police in spank blue uniforms and peaked caps. The lack of traffic was understandable as the ownership of private motor vehicles is banned, as is religion. In the atheist DPRK only the “Great Leader” who officially became the eternal leader upon his death in 1984, seems capable of escaping the grave.

Pyongyang was not an exciting city but it was clean and it was well designed. In some ways it had some of the design features of Canberra such as broad boulevards pointing directly towards some of the national monuments, the first of which I was about to visit.

The Tower of the Juche Idea

The Tower of the Juche Idea is a 170 meter four sided tapering spire of white stone with a red illuminated torch at its summit.  It’s a bit like the Washington Monument but, surprise, is a meter higher. Built in 1982 to commemorate the Great Leaders 70th birthday it was, surprise surprise, designed by the Great Leader himself. Is there nothing this uneducated revolutionary can’t do?

I was met at the base by an English -speaking lady guide dressed in traditional Korean clothing. We went inside, walked past a large photo of the two Kims leading a group of dignitaries at the opening ceremony of the tower and waited an eternity for the elevator to arrive (no doubt engineered by Soviets and not Kim on this occasion) She dutifully explained the dimensions of the tower and from the top pointed out the other features of the city, many of which radiated from the tower and most of which were directly across the adjacent Taedong River.

Kim Il Sung Square and Juche Monument in the smog

Directly on the other bank was Kim Il Sung Square, at 700,000 sq. meters, one of the worlds largest. It is the location of the massive military displays that we have seen on television and, as a plus for me, it was currently full of people practising gymnastics for a display that was to occur in a couple of weeks. I changed my mind about the city looking like Canberra. There was a bit of Canberra in the street pattern but most was like suburban Singapore with high rise apartments of different heights, shapes and vintages some old, drab and unappealing and some newer ones that, from the outside at least,  would look at home in Sydney or New York.

Pyongyang from 170 meters was an impressive sight which I shared with just my guide – there was absolutely no one else, local or foreign, visiting the tower or in the large empty square on which it was located. The square had neat gardens and lawns leading down to the river’s edge, a massive bronze workers statue holding the hammer, sickle and brush above their heads and a few other marble statues of workers, soldiers and the like. I was already bracing myself for seeing a whole lot of statues over the next three days.

Junch idea, a variation on Marxism-Leninism, is the creation of Kim Il Sung and loosely described is about self- reliance and working as a socialist group. People must assert their independence, sovereignty and national pride through self-reliance and self-sacrifice for the benefit of society. The individual is subservient to the group so that the group as a whole will flourish. Ha summarised that it meant that “man is the master of everything and decides everything” and that was the official State ideology.

Unlike the deep theoretical writings of the young Lenin, Kim’s Juche idea didn’t stem from a youthful quest to uncover the future direction of Korean communism but rather from the practicalities of the Sino-Soviet split long after he was in command. He needed a more nationalistic version of communism so as not to upset either the Chinese or the Soviets. In a 1965 speech he outlined the three principles of Juche thought as political independence, economic self-sustenance and defence capability. Compared to Lenin or even to Mao, such writings are a wafer-thin ideology that an intelligent sixth-class student could have written. The Juche idea boils down to a catchy-cry for nationalism and absolute loyalty to the State. Man, or at least the individual man, is not the master of everything. Quite the contrary, he is the servant of the State and unable to question the activities of the State. Rather than self-reliance, the people, and the State were virtually totally reliant on the USSR and, after its collapse, descended into famine and the need for foreign aid. Still, the State remains undeterred and as recent as early 2012 the young, new grandson-leader, Kim Jong-un was referring to it in his speeches.

Nearby was the second national monument, the Party Foundation Monument, a 30 meter vertical stone tower with three massive hands holding stylised images – a hammer, a sickle and a writing brush – a variation on the USSR theme the writing brush adding the role of the “working intellectual” to the traditional roles of factory worker and farmer. The three tools form the insignia of the Workers Party of Korea which I forgot to remember and was later reminded by Miss Ha, “But I’ve already told you…..”. Again there was an attractive young traditionally dressed “local” guide and again there were no other people at this national monument. The tower was surrounded by smaller, intricate friezes featuring life-like carvings of the glorious worker, standing proud, chin out and gazing into the future. My guide pointed out that a stylised map of the globe was the background to one of the friezes and I in turn pointed her to the map of Australia in the corner of this masterpiece – she had not heard of it.

Miss Ha, guide and Party Monument

We finished the day with an early meal at the Chongryu Hotpot Restaurant where the three of them joined with me. The place was busy but with Chinese tourists rather than Koreans, the former being recognisable by their annoying habits of talking loudly and smoking over dinner.

The food was quite good – meat and vegetables with rice and  kim chi, my favourite Korean dish. Ha Sansung asked me about what foods we ate in Australia and I answered honestly that we ate everything. I explained that with cheap international air freight there was never a season when things were not available even if they were imported from the USA or wherever. This didn’t annoy her though in hindsight I should have understood that in a closed economy like North Korea, food was very seasonal and the choice would always be restricted. Ha informed me that in fact there were four different kim chis, one for each season, the cabbage type that I was familiar with being a summer only dish.

As Ha had already told me that everyone earned the same pay in North Korea whether you were a tourist guide or a Professor of English it also dawned on me that the reason for her shift in career was not about meeting foreigners, as she had said, but about getting the luxury perk of access to the wider range of foods, including the very scarce meats, that would be a rare treat for the average North Korean, but served as a matter of course for foreign tourists.

Miss Ha asked me if we owned a house and if so how much it had cost. I said $700,000 and that like others we could borrow funds from a bank and pay it back over many years. She quickly responded that all housing in the DPRK was free, as were schools and hospitals, and that no one paid tax. She had a very satisfied look on her face.

I questioned where the State got the funds necessary to build the free housing, schools and hospitals if there were no taxes. I had already told her that I was an economist by training – I was about to give her a basic lesson in socialist versus capitalist economics. I explained that KITC was a State-owned monopoly and that any funds left over from my 1,000 euro, after they had paid her salary and various overheads, would go to the State – to build the houses, fund the military etc.

In the west, KITC would be a private company, and any funds left over from my visit, after costs, would go partly to the Government in taxes – to build the houses etc. – and partly to the shareholders, the people. She was very confused and clearly did not understand how her own system worked but I could see she was getting annoyed so again the subject was dropped.

Heading towards the Yangakkdo Hotel there were a few more references to “the Great Leader” and a question of how I had enjoyed Pyongyang so far. I said, in at least part-truth, that it was impressively designed with some magnificent buildings and was very clean. What I really wanted to add was “where are the people” – the streets were deserted and there were no street lights – Pyongyang had gone to bed.

TheYangakkdo Hotel was a 40 story place on a small island in the middle of the Taedong River and from my elevated room I had a good view down the river towards the smog shrouded monuments. It was billed as five-star but in true Soviet style nothing quite worked properly and everything was looking a little tired. Still, I had been in a lot worse hotels on this trip and didn’t mind too much that smokers had left their tell-tale smells in my room. The big plus was that it had a bar, with a waiter who spoke a few words of English, and wait for it, a micro-brewery. At 22 Yuan, or about $4, a large glass of suds was actually pretty good. (No North Korean currency is accepted on any part of organised visits to DPRK and all such “essential” expenses have to be paid for in hard currency).

The Chinese-made TV was on and was showing a live mass meeting at what I guessed was the national assembly building. There were a bunch of generals making speeches in turn to a mass audience who after every second sentence jumped to their feet in unison in ear-splitting applause for the words of the speaker. It reminded me of “The Life of Brian” – “we are all individuals…..” but we all do the same. It was totally orchestrated and looked so obvious. I asked the waiter if it was a live show which he acknowledged .I then asked what the meeting was about – he said it was about people power to which I responded Juche thought? He nodded. That was enough for me – I finished my beer and went to bed.

Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum

Day 2 started with breakfast on the ground floor of the Yangdokkoo Hotel. There were two breakfast places with the enticing names of Restaurant No 1 and Restaurant No 2. I was ushered into one of these to find I was the only customer (the Chinese tourists arrived a little later). There was a movie showing on a wall-mounted TV. It was a black-and-white movie of the Korean War in English, meaning I was the intended recipient. I was dumbfounded – you can’t still be fighting this war 60 years after it finished. The average teenager in Australia would probably never have heard of it. Still I watched so as to refresh my memory of the first real battle of the Cold War.

In a nutshell, the film showed that the South Koreans aided by American imperialists invaded North Korea only to find that the North Koreans were in a defensive position with no intent to cause war. The glorious North Koreans under the inspired leadership of Kim Il Sung fought back and quickly took Seoul driving the imperialist invaders all the way to the bottom of the Korean peninsular which they would have taken only for the intervention of the United Nations whose Security Council passed a resolution that meant allied troops came to the aid of South Korea, pushing the North Korean troops back to north of the 38 parallel where they regrouped and again attacked to score a magnificent victory.

I thought to myself that there must have been two Korean War’s.

Our first stop after breakfast was at the Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum. It was a massive, bulky concrete place lacking any warmth. Lots of cavernous exhibition rooms with poor lighting and concrete pillars to obscure the view. Once again I was greeted by an English-speaking lady guide though this time in military uniform rather than traditional Korean clothes. Once again I was the only person there. – me and my guide and 110 halls and showrooms which we trooped through one by one my guide turning lights on and off as we went.

The first room featured a massive mural with a beaming Kim Il Sung front and centre backed by 50 or so troops on either side their heads all titled in the direction of “the Great Leader” and all also with broad smiles. There were a couple of smiling kids in the front and an assortment of civilians on either side – a miner with lamp on his head, a suited bureaucrat, a couple of farmers – while at the very periphery were groups of traditionally garbed women carrying large wreaths of flowers and looking like they were heading in the direction of ‘”The Great Leader” to lay them at his feet. It was an impressive mural both in size and in detail and one of the few occasions on my whole visit to the DPRK that I saw people smiling.

In the next room I was seated before a TV screen to watch, surprise surprise, the same short film I had just seen in my hotel breakfast room – the “how we won the war film”.

My guide asked if I had questions – I asked why the USSR had not used its Security Council veto to stop the resolution required for the allied counter-attack. She answered that she did not know. I was to find on several occasions during my stay in the DPRK that any potentially embarrassing question was met with a quick “I don’t know” which may have been their official policy line or it may have been true – they simply might not have known because it is not part of the countries “official history” and they are closed out of any alternative source of information. For example, I told them about “MASH” and how it was a US, comedy, TV series about very little except it was set during the Korean War – they had never heard of it.

Room after room featured soldiers uniforms, bullets, rifles, statues, photos of troops marching through the snow, mortars, anti-aircraft guns, military trucks, a painting of Kim instructing his Generals how to conduct the war, another of him in the field with supply trucks at a mountain pass, a torpedo vessel, maps with lines showing the progress of the war, propaganda posters and so on. It was a most impressive display, capped off by the basement which featured shot-down US planes – a F4-V Corsair, an AD-2 – all wearing the effects of a rapid crash; Soviet MIG 15′s, Sherman tanks, propeller-driven fighters, helicopters and all sorts of military hardware including a pile of US military junk with a tattered American flag reminding me very much of a similar display we had seen some years earlier in Hanoi.

My guide showed me a Soviet-style Jeep in which the Great Leader at great personal risk had driven far into the south to guide his generals and their heroic troops towards their brilliant victory. She pointed out that it was not heavily armoured or protected from enemy fire – the Great Leader apparently was so brave that such protection was not necessary. I don’t recall Winston Churchill, a distinguished and experienced soldier in his youth, being so brave or rash when as leader, he ran World War II from an underground bunker in London (though arguably risking his life many times in going to meetings such as the Yalta meeting with Roosevelt and Stalin) By now though, I simply marvelled at the supremacy of the eternal leader – there was simply nothing he could not do. He was Superman, Batman, Arnold Schwarzenegger and the Incredible Hulk all rolled into one.

The best of the War Museum was saved for last – a 360 degree panorama of the Battle of Taejon. Fought between the 14-21 July 1950 it was a victory for the advancing North Koreans against an outnumbered USA force that tried to hold the line along the Kum River and eventually retreated but not before holding out long enough for reinforcements to arrive at set up defences around Busan, the largest and most industrialised city in the south.

One of these is a tank – a Russian T34 , the first into Seoul at the war’s outbreak.

The panorama’s dimensions and detail were almost breathtaking as were the bewildering facts from my guide – 40 people took over a year to paint the walls; the 13.5 meter three-dimensional floor component contains genuine war relics, the farm houses are genuine ones relocated from Taejon and it is the largest rotating panorama in the world (except that it wasn’t rotating with me the only visitor apparently unworthy of the expense in a country short on electricity)

Grand Peoples Study House

Our next stop was the Grand Peoples Study House, a massive building in traditional Korean style which set it apart from most others in the vicinity. On the edge of Kim Ill Song square and with the obligatory surrounding fountains and statues, this time of a group of women in traditional clothes and apparently dancing, it was built in 1982 and supposedly can accommodate 30 million books. There was a slight hiccup in our program and we waited for a while for a guide to be summoned and even then it was one without English skills. Miss Ha accompanied us to interpret. The first hall was, you guessed it, the hall containing the memorial to “the Great Leader”. A large marble room with columns and marble staircases on sides, a 7 or 8 meter high marble statue of Kim Il Sung, seated in an arm chair with a mural of the Korean mountains in the background was its centrepiece.

We went through rooms full of Korean and foreign books and into study halls where students were doing computer studies and listening to English language tapes. I was actually quite impressed maybe because it was the first time I had seen real North Korean people ( that is, other than guides or hotel staff) and could see that despite the strictures on their lives many were determined to get ahead through a better education. The final room we visited was an audio-visual centre where the director had great pleasure in producing some Australian music for me to hear – an old Slim Dusty album. Oh well, at least they tried.

Marble Kim

Mansudae Grand Monument

Our next stop was the one I had most looked forward to – almost certain the garner a photo that would grace our Tura Beach home walls. The Mansudae Grand Monument is the spiritual centre of the country, the largest and most celebrated monument to Kim Il Sung. Constructed in 1972 it is a 20 meter bronze masterpiece of the Great Leader with his right arm stretching high into the sky and stands on a raised platform about 3 metres above the square. The State had a problem after his son died and decided that two statues could grace the spot. I figure the decision was a little easier as Kim Sung Il was a little shorter than is father so that their faithful reproductions would still have the Great Leader as the pre-eminent one. As The Great General died in 2011 I figured that the new version of Mansudae Square was virtually brand new but nobody seemed keen to explain this to me.

Searching the web on my return to Oz, I found that energetically led by the new leader, Kim Jong Un, the work was completed in 100 days and the two statues formally opened in April 2012, just three months before my visit. The North Korean web site described the opening as follows:

“This great auspicious event is a precious fruition of the noble moral obligation of Kim Jong Un and his energetic leadership. It is also a striking manifestation of the unshakable will of    the army and people of the DPRK to hold Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il in high esteem for all ages”

We approached with great trepidation as for Ha and Park this was equivalent to a pilgrimage. Our van pulled up in a round-about with not another vehicle in sight, just a stall for the purchase of floral wreathes to lie at the two leaders feet. It wasn’t obligatory but Juche Travel said it was insulting not to pay the 5 Euro and go through the solemn process of walking slowly to the monument, laying the wreath then stepping back-wards a few steps and bowing to the great men. I did all this, noting on the way that most of the 100 or so wreathes that had preceded me were a little weather beaten and obviously re-cycled.

There was plenty of space in the square to get back the distance required to get the two leaders in the photo frame and no mass of people in the foreground to mess up the photo – as usual, the place was deserted save from a gardener or two.

World’s Biggest Kims

Behind the two statues was a 75 meter mosaic featuring Paekdu Mountain, a sacred volcano. The two sides of the square facing the great ones were decorated with a series of bronze statues of soldiers backed by what looked like massive red  destroyers, bows raised as if splashing through an oncoming wave. One represents the anti-Japanese revolutionaries and the other represents the socialist anti-imperialists.   These features were 5 meter high by 200 meter long and had been intricately executed. Each would have perhaps a 100 life-size statues of North Koreans in uniform proudly looking to the future some with arms raised carrying rifles, books, Juche torches, or playing trumpets.  The workmanship was excellent, making them an outstanding feature even if they are only a side-show to the Kims monument.

Fabulous detail at the Kim’s memorial

Lunch was back at my hotel, a lonely affair by myself in the revolving restaurant on the 41st floor except that it was not revolving, again I guessed because they didn’t want to add to the power bill.

Still, my earlier ravings about the magnificent of bulgogi and kimchi were answered and I had a meal that was truly memorable – good Korean food, pretty good local beer and a hazy panorama of one of the world’s most extraordinary cities. It was doubly satisfying as eating on my own meant an hour or so away from the incessant propaganda about the Kim family.

Arch of Triumph

After lunch we stopped briefly at the Arch of Triumph, built to honour to role of Kim Il Sung in leading the resistance to the Japanese between 1925 and 1945. At 60 meters in height, I was unfazed to learn that it is the tallest Arch in the world, even higher than its Paris namesake of which it looked like an exact copy.

I didn’t even blink when told it had 25,500 marble blocks, one for every day of Kim’s life up until its inauguration in 1982. On both wings it had the obligatory bronze statues of glorious soldiers holding the national flag aloft and a few cars passing underneath on yet another underutilised road. Rather impressive but not worth more than a quick stop.

The next stop was the metro. We parked right outside a station and headed 100 meters down an escalator to the station. I asked Miss Ha why it was so deep there being no need geologically as far as I could see and more depth means more cost. I knew the answer but I wondered if Miss Ha did or if she would tell me even if she did – the metro’s alternative use was as a bomb shelter. She didn’t seem to think it was deep but I guess if it’s the only metro you’ve ever seen you would think it normal.

One metre higher than Paris

The metro looked identical to that which we had seen in Moscow in the 1970′s. Marble steps and pillars, chandeliers, colourful murals and no graffiti or advertising. A group of school kids in uniform – blue pants, white blouses and red scarves – slipped down the steps and past us to board the train. We followed and went just one station on a rickety old carriage that should have been retired to a museum. 100 meters up the escalator we were met by a dutiful Kang and our van. We were in an area of more modern apartments and Ha pointed out the block where she and her family lived – it looked pretty good.

National Film Studio

Our next destination was the State Film Studio, a sprawling complex attached to a University on the outskirts of Pyongyang, perhaps 20 kilometres from the centre. It was an interesting drive as it went past some of the less salubrious suburbs where facades of apartments were in bad shape and into the countryside on a bumpy gravel road with rice paddies and a more village like environment. At the University there were many people pulling weeds out of lawns and, on closer inspection, actually cutting the grass by hand. I had seen something similar as we flashed past a park earlier in the day and asked Ha Sunseng what they were doing – she said that all Koreans worked six days a week and on the seventh day they “volunteered” to do service for the State. I thought investing in a few hundred motor-mowers would do the job more efficiently and give these miserable people a day a week to spend with their families, go fishing or whatever.

The film studio was not unimpressive – no match for Hollywood or for the glitzy, touristy Universal Studios but nevertheless a real film set with over 200 structures -  Korean, Japanese and even some European type buildings and sets.  In places it looked like a set for an American western and in others a rural Korean setting complete with thatch-houses and farm animals. The buildings were not just facades as in Hollywood but proper buildings. It even had a railway track and station.

I was told that up to 40 films a year were made there – that means unless they can crank them out in a few days the place should have been a hive of activity. Again, it was just me and my guide. I was also told that Kim Song Il was personally in charge of the studios and used to visit often. I dug up the following quote from CNN dated April 2010, that may explain his interest:

“He loves movies. It’s rumoured that he has one of the largest private film collections  in the world. His favourite film is said to be “Gone with the Wind” and his favourite actress is Elizabeth Taylor. He’s a film collector and bona fide cinephile, but he’s also much more. He’s everything really -a director, a producer, a financier, a costume maker, a set-designer, a screenwriter, a cameraman and a sound engineer. He’s also a film theorist. His masterwork on aesthetics and practice is “On the Art of                        Cinema” written and published in the early 1970′s. In it he gives himself the humble title, “Genius of the Cinema”

I had not thought about it but in a country with no satellite television, no internet, no foreign radio, no DVD’s and no foreign movies there is a bit of a vacuum in the entertainment stakes. The State film studio fills the vacuum as the sole producer of local entertainment. I should, however, have made the next leap in logic as to the content of the movies – there is just one hero – the eternal leader.

Miss Ha seemed in a good mood on the way back into the city so I set up a little sting. I had seen by the shape of the older apartment blocks we were passing that they must be very small – perhaps just one room. So I asked her about her apartment – how big was it? She said three rooms plus a kitchen and bathroom. I said, so much bigger than these older ones, pointing to a nearby block. They’re just one room? She replied, yes. And, they have no air-conditioning just winter heating? Yes came the reply on a stinking hot summers day. Do you have an air-conditioner? No, but we could if we want (which I guess means they have to buy it). We have a fan.

Mansaude Artists Studio and Book Shop

The Artist’s Studio was billed as the nation’s training ground for the various arts -sculpture, painting, embroidery and so on. It reminded me a little of a similar set-up we had seen in Bhutan in 2010 -  a noble and serious attempt to lift the standard of such pursuits and along with the Grand Peoples Study House perhaps the best example I saw in the DPRK of how socialism Korean-style might just work. The only problem was yet again it was near deserted as it must have been the 7th day when the students were off “volunteering” for the glorious State. The only artist present was an elderly painter with a room full of extraordinarily well painted watercolours of mountain rural scenes with excellent use of light and shade. Through Miss Ha as interpreter I told him of the great use of light and shade by some of the western masters such as Rembrandt and congratulated him on his work – he smiled and nodded.

The nearby book shop was really no more than a largish room. Half the books were Korean travel books that were of little interest to me while the other half were either biographies on the two Kims or a collection of their learned works. I thumbed through one which featured Kim Il Sungs thoughts on Korean reunification. This particular tome said that in May of Juche 61 (or 1972 in the real world) the Great Leader put forward three principles for reunification:

“The three principles of realising independent reunification without outside interference, achieving great national unity by transcending differences in ideas, ideals and systems, and reunifying the divided land by peaceful means without recourse to armed force, are the starting point and the basis for theoretical solution of our reunification question”

I thought to myself, this is a pile of political rhetoric that would do our Aussie politicians proud.

We finished the day at the impressively named National Restaurant which was a basement place consisting of one large room cleverly partitioned with Japanese screens. The food was similar to the night before except this time they served cheongju, Korean rice wine. My three friends declined saying that they did not drink alcohol as it had a bad effect on Koreans. I mused that this did not make much sense as I had seen many South Koreans  on past visits to Seoul drinking as if there was no tomorrow. I suspect that it was State policy not to drink while with foreigners as “loose lips sink ships”. I also reflected on why I had two guides with one doing very little. Was he a secret agent? Was he spying on me or was he spying on Ha making sure that she did not say anything out of turn?

The DMZ

Setting off the next morning we headed the 160 kilometres south to the Demilitarised Zone. On the outskirts of Pyongyang we passed through the Monument to Three Charters for National Reunification. An impressive marble structure of about 40 meters in height, it straddles the highway, featuring two women in traditional clothes holding aloft a globe with a map of the reunified Korea. At the base on each side is the almost obligatory bronze frieze of soldiers and workers.

I had forgotten Kim’s three principles and got another dose from Miss Ha of” But I’ve already told you…….”  The 200 kilometres or so dual  Reunification Highway built between 1987 and 1992  features a hedge down much of its centre and trees on either side. Typical of the DPRK the road is not well engineered and rather bumpy so that we chugged along at about 80 kph on a road that was absolutely deserted – it was at least 30 kilometres until we saw another vehicle. In the whole trip we saw maybe half a dozen cars, a couple of trucks and three tourist buses. Apart from a couple of low mountain ranges which we tunnelled through, the road was fairly flat with some undulations, distant mountains and fields of rice, corn and an occasional orchard. There were some people working in the fields but far fewer than the level of crops would have suggested. There were a few small villages but they were set back at a distance from the road and seemed almost deserted. I didn’t see a farm animal on the 3 hours it took to get to the DMZ, yet another indication of the diet of the average North Korean.

Miss Ha volunteered that there had been a famine in the 1990′s. I had not raised the issue ( because of David’s advice) but I had previously read that perhaps over one million died of malnutrition  between 1994 and 1998 through the “perfect storm” of floods, withdrawal of Russian aid and the need to feed the army first. Ha volunteered that there was now no longer any food shortage ( which again was contrary to what I had read) because the Great General had solved the problem by introducing winter crops like potatoes and beans which supplemented the traditional  crops.

Tongue in cheek I asked whether he was an agricultural scientist as well as a General but got no response. After a pregnant pause I continued by asking whether he had any military training though my research indicated he had a limited education of any sort. Before she could answer I continued that he had been in command from 1994, on his father’s death, until his own death in 2011 during which time there had been a few skirmishes with the south but no war. I left the next sentence unsaid – The Great General had no military training and never won a war.

At one point on the road the median strip of shrubs and hedges disappeared leaving a six-lane wide strip of bitumen. It happened to be on a straight stretch of road and perfectly flat. Having lived in Singapore in 2001-03 I knew what this was about. The East Coast Parkway from Changi Airport to the city is a wonderful express way with bougainvillea in the median strip and delightful weeping trees on either side of the road, except that is for a single strip of perfectly flat and straight road where the trees disappear and the bougainvillea in the median strip are in two meter by two meter planter boxes raised a few centimetres off the ground so that they can quickly be removed  by fork trucks to leave just a wide strip of tarmac – yes, you guessed it, this is an emergency military aircraft runway. I was witnessing the exact same thing on the Reunification Highway.

Before I had time to raise it with Miss Ha it was behind us, but there was another and yet another several kilometres down the road. I left it to the return trip to raise with her, and had some fun doing it. On the first strip I just pointed out that the trees and central hedges were gone with just a wide strip of bitumen and grass covered verges and that the road was flat and straight. That strange isn’t it? Look we are about to go on to another flat and straight bit of road and look the trees end. My guess is that the median strip and the trees will begin again at the exact same spot, which they did. Its long enough and straight enough to land a plane on that bit of road, don’t you think? She looked puzzled – do you think it is an emergency landing strip. No, I replied, it’s a military runway.

She looked aghast and wasn’t pretending. She knew nothing about this despite the fact she had driven this road every week for the past several years. No doubt the Korean military aren’t keen to advertise it. I’ve looked at most sites on the internet that describe the Reunification Highway, some in detail, but none mention the runways – so there you have it, a scoop.

As we got closer to the DMZ the military road blocks increased in number but in all cases we merely slowed to a crawl and were waved through. There were no overt signs of a military presence but presumably such stuff was well camouflaged, except for a long line of “dragon teeth” tank traps which spread across the floor of a narrow river valley. About a meter in height these pyramidal shaped concrete blocks are meant to channel tanks towards the few accessible gaps which needless to say are heavily protected and probably mined.

The DMZ is a 4 kilometre wide zone with the actual border right in the middle. The northern entrance to the DMZ was a gate through a three-metre high wall with a couple of buildings in a car-park outside the wall – a display room and lecture hall, and a souvenir shop. We were ushered into the display area to see a diagram of the DMZ and have the various buildings explained by a uniformed North Korean guide whose words were translated into Chinese for the big group and by Miss Ha for myself, the only other tourist. I was surprised to learn that the 38th parallel is not the actual border – its twists and winds its way across the Korean peninsula being considerably above the 38th parallel in the east and below it in the west. Here, at the Military Demarcation Line (MDL) that marks the border we were actually right on the 38th parallel so I guess that is why it is commonly thought to comprise the entirety of the border.

After the briefing we walked across the DMZ boundary and boarded our respective vehicles to be driven to the actual border. Surprisingly there were some rice fields on the northern side but nobody was living there. No troops are allowed into the DMZ (other than our guide) and those located at the Joint Security Area (JSA) a circular patch of land with an 800 metre diameter that is the location of all recent negotiations between the two Koreas. It is eerily quiet – one of the most dangerous places on our planet looked like deserted farmland.

We stopped at the North Korea Peace Museum, a couple of buildings in a compound about 500 metres north of the Joint Security Area.  The first and smaller building is where much of the on-again-off again two year negotiations over the armistice took place. It is a small, drab concrete building with a rusting corrugated iron roof set in a parkland environment with neat conical   bushes and hedges. The building itself was bare except for a table-tennis sized, green felt covered, table with five chairs on either side and with four  further tables towards each corner of the room . It was quite a small room and these five tables virtually filled it. There was nothing placed on the tables or on the walls – it was totally sterile.

Chief North Korea negotiator

Fortunately the only other building, just a few meters away, contained a small museum, or at least some 1950′s black and white photos on the wall. I took particular attention to one which was of the room we had just visited .It was packed with uniformed generals – five north Koreans on one side of the central table  and five uniformed people on the other, a mix of South Koreans and Americans. The four tables in the background also had seated officials some talking amongst themselves others writing on notebooks, while there were many people outside peering through the windows.

Of the five southern negotiators, an American with a bunch of medals on his chest and a big fat cigar in his mouth was leaning over the shoulder of his colleague reading his notes and blowing cigar smoke into his face in the process. So in 1953 this room was far from sterile. What I also noticed, however, was that the set-up of the room with the five tables is exactly how it is presented in 2012. I was pleased to have found this particular photo.

The Real Deal -1953

The second, larger building is where the Armistice Agreement was actually signed on 27 July 1953.There were three felt topped tables placed side by side, again each about the size of a table tennis table. On the northern one was a North Korea flag in a glass case while on the southern one was a rather faded United National flag also in a glass case. Both tables had a copy of the original agreement, a rather tattered, string bound volume titled   “Armistice Agreement: Volume I, Text of  Agreement”.

The Chinese group quickly took over the space for multiple photos drowning out the North Korean guides explanation of events.  One of the Chinese visitors spoke some English and pointed to an old gentleman sitting at the North Korean table getting his photo taken. He volunteered that he was one of the 300,000 Chinese who had fought on the North Korean side during the war – quite touching really, like our elderly diggers returning to the scenes of their battles.

There were several North Korean soldiers guarding each of the central buildings but not a single South Korean to be seen on the other side. Surprisingly, there were no restrictions on photography and I later reflected that for a country absolutely paranoid about security and propaganda the whole of the DMZ, at least on the northern side, was actually fairly relaxed.

World’s most militarised border

We entered the centre of the three blue pre-fab buildings that straddle the MDL, named T2. Like the earlier buildings of the North Korea Peace Museum, it was empty except for a table arranged east/west, its centre exactly on the MDL. Taking one step to the right and then to the left, I was in South Korea, then in North Korea, then in South Korea etc. I had played this silly game before – at the zero longitude line at Greenwich, London; on the Arctic Circle in Alaska; at the bi-lingual sign on the USA/Mexico border and at the casino-festooned border of California and Nevada, the first casino a few millimetres on the Nevada side. Walking the four or five paces to the end of the building I took my sixth and by far shortest visit into South Korea.

Outside the windows of T2 stood two North Korean soldiers one facing T3 and the other facing T2. They were standing within a foot of the border which between the buildings was marked by a small concrete slab, no more than 10 centimetres wide and high. After more photos we went to the North’s 5-level control building, the Panmun-guk, for a high level look at the JSA and the South  Korean’s “Freedom House” on the opposite side.

From this slightly elevated position we could see into South Korea in the distance. There was a village, called Taesong-dong, or “Freedom Village” with 200 farmers and a 100 metre high flagpole. I thought to myself, silly people, the North Koreans will not let you have the highest flagpole – they must have the biggest of everything. Offhandedly I commented to Miss Ha, oh is that a South Korean village. She replied, no, it is a disguised American nuclear arsenal. Looking for a response and with my mind fixated on the TV screen of American spokesman saying “The United States neither confirms nor denies………”  I responded that I did not know,” the Americans are not in the habit of divulging where they store their weapons.”

The last Cold War border is a bit of concrete

We returned the two kilometres to the wall and barbed-wire marking the North’s border of the DMZ where I sought out the soldier guide to thank him for the tour, with a hand shake and a smile. It came with one of those surprising vignettes that make travelling so enjoyable – through Miss Ha as interpreter he asked if I thought America had won the war. I answered, no; it had been fought to a standstill – a draw. I added in fact America lost and North Korea lost – everyone lost because thousands had died for no useful purpose. These was a conversation in Korean between the guide and Miss Ha who surprisingly then turned to me and said “you are right, I am wrong”

Kaesong

On leaving the DMZ we passed Kijong-dong, a North Korean village set back from the road. It is commonly called “Propaganda Village” because along with the old farmhouses there are several Soviet style apartment blocks all of which are empty as the village is deserted. It does however, have one of the highest flagpoles in the world – 160 meters of fabricated steel looking like an ugly telecommunications tower with a massive flag on top. The earlier constructed South Korean tower is just 100 meters – they shouldn’t have bothered.

Kaesong is the only significant city near the DMZ and we stopped for lunch. It had one broad street stretching the length of the town with a hill at the far end featuring a large statue of Kim Jong Il on a pedestal. Mercifully, we didn’t stop there but we also didn’t stop at the Nam Gate, the only remaining gate of the old city walls that date from 1391. It seems that I had upset Miss Ha and even the sight of me craning my neck as we passed to get a view of the enclosed bell was not enough of a hint to her that maybe we should stop. Our destination was the Kaesong Folk Hotel which was a complex of small traditional Korean buildings set alongside a stream and amongst willow trees. I ate by myself sitting on the floor. It was a “Royal Court” meal consisting of a dozen or so small bowls containing various types of pickles, tofu and the like and with just one hot dish – a soup consisting of strips of fried egg in a lightly salted broth which was much better than it sounds.

In the same complex was a small souvenir shop which included a photo on the wall of Kim Sung Du. It was the first photo of him that I had seen. It is odd that his father and grand-father are featured everywhere but the current President’s dial is nowhere to be found. Is he serving an apprenticeship? Will the Generals who really run the country decide when it is right to add him to the official history of the country? If he fails the test will he simply be air-brushed out of history?

Nonchalantly, while looking at the photo of the young Kim, I said to Miss Ha something like “he has an older brother or is it two brothers?” Her instantaneous reply was the usual “I don’t know”, the reply you get when the truth is embarrassing. As far as I know the truth is that the heir-apparent was  gay, or at very least effeminate. His play-boy father made the mistake of sending him to a European school where naturally the boy found education boring but  that life was a lot better than in Pyongyang. He liked  the idea of Tokyo Disneyland and tried to get there on a false passport which apparently upset the Generals.

Koryo Museum

After lunch we headed for the Koryo museum, the only substantial piece of the “old” Korea that I was to see on my whole visit. Built as a centre of learning during the Koryo dynasty ( 918-1392 AD) it consisted of a collection of about a dozen typical Korean open sided, peak roofed buildings set within a two-metre perimeter, stone wall. Some of the buildings were empty while others featured a collection of historic items – clothes, ceramics, jars, bowls, bells, gongs etc. There was also a replica of a Koryo period mausoleum, a dark room with not much to see. I asked Ha for the period of the Koryo dynasty and the dates of the existing buildings and she replied “I have already told you…….” The current buildings date from 1602 after the previous complex was burned down in 1592. The central square had some delightful large trees including a ginko biloba tree that is thought to be over 1,000 years old. Back in the van we headed past the ancient city gate again without stopping and out of the city onto the Reunification Highway.

USS Pueblo

The USS Pueblo is a captured American technical research (read “spy”) ship, a 54 metre long former coast guard vessel built in 1944 and commissioned into the navy in 1966. On 23 January 1968 it was captured by North Korean navy vessels and after a skirmish, in which one American was killed, escorted to the Korean coast, and later re-located to sit on the edge of the Taedong River alongside the War Museum.

At the time, the Americans insisted that it was a research vessel and was in international waters. President Lyndon Johnson even went on TV to say that America would seek international action against North Korea for its provocation. I knew this because the Koreans had a black and white film on the vessel to show the evil of the American imperialists and  Johnson’s bluff and bravado, threatening a military response unless North Korea release the ship and its crew.

For once, I took the North Korean’s side. This ship had a plethora of radio equipment and as many dials as a Boeing 747 plus several satellite dishes and radars on the deck. My guess was that if it looks like a spy ship then it probably is a spy ship. There was further evidence supporting the DPRK – when captured it was not flying an American flag and apparently many sensitive documents were destroyed as the Koreans bordered, including the orders “to gather signal and electronic intelligence on North Korea”. Under the circumstances President Johnson’s statement was about as outrageous as many the North Koreans now make about The Great Leader.

We reached the Pueblo at the same time as the three Chinese tourist buses plus a platoon of North Koreans soldiers in uniform. It was going to be a crowded inspection except the troops were wheeled in to a room to watch the propaganda movie so that I got in front of all of them. The Pueblo was indeed a period piece. I imagined it looked exactly like it did in 1968 – over 40 years on, the cabins, the decks, the bridge and the electronic equipment sat there timelessly. This was the real attraction of the Pueblo rather than its short time on the front pages of the world’s newspapers. The equipment that would have been state-of-the-art in 1968 looked bulky, simplistic and antiquated. Everyone and everything associated with the USS Pueblo has moved on, except for the vessel itself and its exalted place in DPRK history.

USS Pueblo and Military Inspection

Mangyongdae Native House

My last inspection was the birthplace of General Kim Il Sung, a largish one-level house built around a central courtyard, now in an attractive park on the outskirts of Pyongyang. The fact that it was the Great Leaders birthplace was of little consequence to me. My real interest was that it was probably a typical turn of the 20th century house of an extended-family in rural Korea. It had about six rooms in semi-detached house style some linked by a continuous thatch-roof. There were photos of Kim’s parents in one room, large water jars in the courtyard, some simple furniture, a kitchen with various pots and pans and an oven which meant the room doubled as the winter sitting room, and a small room which contained the vessels for storing rice wine. Fifty meters away was a covered well while there were some pagodas and park chairs in what was a delightful parkland setting.

The Pyongyang to Beijing Train

My driver and guides picked me up on the final morning for the short drive to the railway station and the 10 am train back to the real world. There was just the one train and what seemed the only platform and the place was very crowded. I correctly assumed that most of these people were not going to China – it was also the local mail run to stop at many stations along the way. I think most tourists use the plane in both directions as Ha and Park didn’t look at all familiar with the train having to search for the two first-class sleeper carriages and wend their way through the crowds who were being crammed into carriages much as you would see in Myanmar or India – it was certainly a third-world experience. The door of one carriage was being crammed by uniformed troops pushing four-wide into a space where only two could fit – the upper echelons of the military  travel  in dark windowed limousines but the foot soldiers have it much tougher.

My carriage was the same as we had travelled on in Russia and Mongolia – dark green with four-berth cabins, two upper and two lower and a small window-side table. This is not luxury but it’s not bad either. My guides waited on the platform outside my window as the 10 minutes to departure time ticked by. I joined them on the platform to give each a tip of 30 Euro (a little more than Juche Travels recommendation) which I passed while shaking hands. They quickly stuffed the bills in their pocket as if conscious of the secret police or whoever else may be watching.

I was to share my cabin with three North Koreans. This was quite extraordinary – for three days the KITC had studiously kept me away from contact with any real Koreans and now I was to share a cabin with three for 24 hours.

They talked among themselves for 30 minutes or so after our train departed heading into rural countryside with fields of rice and corn, more people and more villages than in the south of the country but still no farm animals. Groups of collective farm workers were in the fields and most stopped to watch the train go by. There were no tractors or mechanised farm equipment – they were working with horse drawn ploughs or shovels. There were several traditional villages with thatch roofs and others of much more recent construction the houses arranged in neat rows of boring concrete block boxes. The track was electrified but the train chugged along at what seemed no more than 50 or 60 kph. I sat back and watched the rolling hills and farms pass by, a view of North Korea that is not included in the normal tours and one you miss if you simply fly.

Suddenly after an hour or so, one of the two women, of about mid-30′s in age asked in in quite good English where I was from. She then asked about my Korean tour and asked a question about whether I had tried Korean beer, makekju,  and if so which one. I said the green one – the beer in the green bottle with the green label. She asked if I liked it – I said it was very good,  with 5% alcohol  certainly much better than Chinese beer and at least as good as South Korean beer.

She smiled and then indicated that the man in the group, of maybe early 50s in age, was the President of North Korea’s only beer manufacturer, Taedonggang, named after the Taedong River. Her title was production manager (though from her mannerisms I think she was really his Personal Assistant) while the other youngish woman was the marketing manager. The company had a restaurant in Beijing and they were on an eight-day trip to inspect its operations or something like that. The cardboard carton at my feet was opened to reveal bottles of beer and Japanes style bento boxes of bulgogi. I had won the lottery – 24 hours with real North Koreans including the brewery boss and his produce.

The man spoke no English but we talked through the women interpreter. I said that I was impressed that he had such an important job. He was dismissive of this saying he had a good education, had started with the company in his youth and had worked hard, being promoted through the ranks. He added that his pay was the same as all other Koreans. I replied yes, but you do get some benefits – like travel, beer and bento boxes. They all laughed and I quickly added (as a wild guess) – and you also have a car? to which he replied that he did.

We talked about beer around the world, company structures in the west and so on. They were picking my brain in a pleasant and comfortable way. They even showed me a mock-up of a label they were planning for a new beer and asked my view. I figured the boss had designed the current label or at least “ticked off” on it. So I said the present label was very good – the green beer. He smiled – well done Steve. But the new label had the brand written in English which I said was common in China, Japan and South Korea even though it was not readable to most people only familiar with hanjul ,kanji or hanzi  symbols.  They took note. Time passed quickely and we were soon doing  immigration at the border town.

The train finally pulled slowly out of Sinuiju station where, through a gap in the buildings, I saw a park with a quick view of my very last statue of the eternal leader, a three meter high one facing into the park with right arm raided high into the sky. I thought to myself “farewell and f… you” as the train inched  past the last North Korean guard box with soldier standing to attention, onto the steel bridge across the Yalu River, a half-kilometre  wide stretch of water separating the DPRK from the PRC and Dandong, a city of 2.5 million. Alongside the bridge and stretching about half-way out from the Chinese side was another bridge which I was informed was part dismantled by the Koreans during the War after it had been bombed. It is now used as the principal vantage point for a view into the DPRK for those without a visa or the inclination to get one.

At no more than walking pace we slowly approached the far bank with the gleaming steel and glass towers of Dandong, the neon signs and the vehicles speeding along a freeway welcoming me back into the reality of the 21st century. An ultra-modern station with a very wide platform, a clock that was on time, and  a sign in Chinese and English indicating express train number K28, Dandong  to Beijing, departing 7.30 pm

Customs was completed in less than 30 minutes but then we sat for an eternity as the train was shunted back a 100 meters or so and as Chinese people made their way out of the terminal and towards some train. I thought the K28 must be a Chinese train that would follow ours but after 30 minutes or so it dawned on me that we must now be connected to the K28 and have over an hour to wait. It would be over 9 hours since we left Pyongyang which is around 300 kilometres away, an average speed of about 30 kph.

Fortunately, the Chinese station staff then opened the carriage doors and we could step onto the platform to see what had been happening. There in front of my eyes were 20 or so carriages of a brand-new, gleaming white train with automatic doors, large clean windows and an illuminated sign on each carriage saying K28, Dandong to Beijing. At the rear of this example of the modern China, like a pathetic appendage on the bum of society were our two dirty, ageing, traditional Soviet style green carriages. I smiled inwardly – my last image of the DPRK was a summation of the whole trip – a country clinging to the past and increasingly finding itself irrelevant, ignored, obsolete and at the end of the train.

DMZ: The Hidden War is a look at six background characters in the DMZ series. With one issue written from the perspective of each character and several different artists used to draw them, the book is hit and miss. I was looking forward to this one, but found only two of the stories to be remarkable. That’s not to say that it’s a bad effort from the series, but it seemed just like filler to me; decent filler, but filler none the less.

As I suspected after reading the first volume in the Y series, the second book is better than the first. The dialogue is reined in and the story becomes deeper and more interesting. Yorrick and his two companions stumble upon a seemingly utopian all-female community, while his Amazon-brainwashed sister tries to track him down. A decent read.

Promethea is a legendary hero born of imagination who inhabits different human vessels and flits between the realm of fantasy and the real world… surreal, existential, ethereal…. I don’t really know how to describe this Alan Moore penned novel. A mix between fantasy and sci-fi, it moves along quickly, and at first seems to be a little airy; like something written by an imaginative high-schooler, but as the pages go by, the story becomes much more nuanced and with very solid art work, particularly in the city-scapes, to back it up, it’s well worth a read.

A super fun book. Great idea (characters from fables and fairy-tales living in New York) with great execution. This first installment is essentially a whodunnit about the murder of Rose Red, the sister of Snow White. Also, the edition I read was the re-issue of volume one, which contains a bunch of bonus material thrown in, making this a great pick-up. This series might be taking over as my favorite.

This story’s special for me: It was the first time I experienced a media scrum (it was pushy and over before I knew it), and the first time as a journalist I’ve covered a story involving someone “big” (Justin Trudeau!).

“People do meditation to find psychic alignment. That’s why people do psychotherapy and analysis. That’s why people analyze their dreams and make art. That is why many read Tarot cards, cast I Ching, dance, drum, make theater, pry out the poem, and fire up the prayer. That’s why we do all the things we do. It is the work of gathering all the bones together. Then we must sit at the fire and think about which song we will use to sing over the bones, which creation hymn, which re-creation hymn. And the truths we tell will make the song.”

– Clarissa Pinkola Estés from Women Who Run With The Wolves 

There’s a great musical director inside my head. She gathers tunes without my conscious knowing, playing certain ones at certain times and providing a continuous, changing soundtrack to my changing interior weather system. Sometimes my amateur emo artist self calls on her to illustrate the way I feel (be it good or bad or something else), often to kick it out of my system. Then we rifle through the archives together pulling out songs. Music as detox, music as therapy, music as creation, or re-creation hymns, songs to sing over the bones with. Today, the maestro and I searched for hymns for the leaving of a situation, character and a longer term, annoyingly cyclical part of myself; internal and external predators as Clarissa Pinkola Estes (quoted above) might say. In short it’s a patch that’s ushering in a much needed personal revolution and, like all good revolutions, it needs a soundtrack. Enter Digital Mystikz, whose name is ever more apt in these days of techno-nature; and Mala in particular.  I moved through as many of his tunes as I could find on my laptop; allowing the frequencies to penetrate and pull bits of me out like string, a feeling comparable to a recent acupuncture experience. The more I dug, the more I felt relieved; lighter, tweeting (another form of creation hymns perhaps) the tunes that were pulling out the energies that a few years ago, I would’ve stamped into the floor at DMZ at Mass.

Digital Mystikz / @mala_dmz music – nothing compares ; it hits the soul

— ©GC (@drumzofthesouth) March 28, 2013

It’s no coincidence that I found an affinity with some of their titles also:

Blue Notez.

Changes.

Shake Out The Demons…

@drumzofthesouth forgive

— Charlie Foy (@charliefoy) March 28, 2013

SEOUL (Reuters) – Reclusive North Korea is to cut the last channel of communications with the South because war could break out at “any moment”, it said on Wednesday, days after warning the United States and South Korea of nuclear attack.

The move is the latest in a series of bellicose threats from North Korea in response to new U.N. sanctions imposed after its third nuclear test in February and to “hostile” military drills under way joining the United States and South Korea.

The North has already stopped responding to calls on the hotline to the U.S. military that supervises the heavily armed Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and the Red Cross line that has been used by the governments of both sides.

“Under the situation where a war may break out at any moment, there is no need to keep north-south military communications which were laid between the militaries of both sides,” the North’s KCNA news agency quoted a military spokesman as saying.

“There do not exist any dialogue channel and communications means between the DPRK and the U.S. and between the north and the south.”

Despite the shrill rhetoric, few believe North Korea, formally known as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), will risk starting a full-out war.

North and South Korea are still technically at war anyway after their 1950-53 civil conflict ended with an armistice, not a treaty, which the North says it has since torn to pieces.

The “dialogue channel” is used on a daily basis to process South Koreans who work in the Kaesong industrial project where 123 South Korean firms employ more than 50,000 North Koreans to make household goods.

About 120 South Koreans are stationed at Kaesong at any one time on average.

It is the last remaining joint project in operation between the two Koreas after South Korea cut off most aid and trade in response to Pyongyang’s shooting of a South Korean tourist and the sinking of a South Korean naval vessel blamed on the North.

Kaesong is one of North Korea’s few hard currency earners, producing $2 billion a year in trade with the South, and Pyongyang is unlikely to close it except as a last resort.

The North’s military spokesman representing its “supreme command” did not mention Kaesong, which has suffered temporary shutdowns before.

The South’s government said it would take steps to ensure the safety of the workers at Kaesong. It did not elaborate.

(Reporting by Jack Kim; Editing by Nick Macfie)

72 hours ago, I was in the DMZ – the North/South Korean Demilitarized Zone – where I visited the Joint Security Area.   Created as a provision of the Korean Armistice Agreement signed in 1953, the DMZ is a neutral enclave for the North Korean (DPRK) and South Korean (ROK) armed forces (joined by both the UN and US Army).

Following a fatal incident in 1976, the Military Demarcation Line was established, shifting the area from “joint” to parallel but separate.  Effectively, the two sides now stand in a 24-hour face-off, each on their side of the uncrossed line.

On the South Korean side stands a row of small “temporary” buildings, with 2 ROK soldiers statue-still in martial arts stances, with eyes covered by sunglasses so as not to provoke a staring contest.   Directly across from them, on a staircase of a more permanent building, stands a North Korean army official, shrouded by the shadows of the doorway, staring at his enemy through binoculars.  Above him, the curtains in the window are half drawn, obscuring a second North Korean officer, clicking away, photographing anyone who steps into his line of vision.

It is both eerie and surreal.

72 hours later, I am sitting at my family’s seder table.  At the beginning of each seder, we read a passage from the book of Exodus, the second book of the bible, which explicitly instructs us as to how we are to retell the story of the Exodus, a critical component of the Passover tradition:

“You shall tell your son on that day, ‘It is because of what God did for me when I came out of Egypt.’” (Exodus 13:8, English Standard version)

The question that begs to be asked is: why are we instructed to change the subject of the exodus story from the Biblical Israelites to a that of  “what God did for me” for an ancient story that is retold each and every year?

By re-appropriating the narrative as a personal retelling of the exodus, we wear our histories as our own, connecting the present to our past.     By going through this motion each and every year, we create a mechanism by which we ensure that the past is bound to the future.

What, then, is the connection to North/South Korea?

It has been argued many times that the creation of separate North and South Koreas, delineated by the 38^th parallel, is an arbitrary construction, imposed on a map to separate the 1950s Communist powers of neighboring Stalin’s Soviet Union and Mao Zedung’s China in the North with democratic ideals in the South, supported by a United States exhausted from the recent World War.  No differences in ethnicity.  No differences in religion.  No differences in language or culture or history or any of the multitude of factors that underpin most conflicts.  It was a false separation – but one which resulted in a fratricidal war.

Over the last few weeks, I have spoken with a number of Korean friends.  Several told me of their family history, of grandparents from the North, of their grandparents caught in the South on business during the breakout of the war and during the signing of the armistice, of the inability for them to return home after the cease fire.  I learned of family members who were unable to flee to the South, fates unknown, their families unaware to this day if any have survived.

Exactly 60 years after the signing of the armistice, today the two countries are separated by much more than just the 38^th parallel – with prosperity in the South in stark contrast to starvation in the North.

Now, two generations later, many young South Koreans are questioning the once indisputable concept of reunification. Support for the national goal of unification, taught in schools from the 5^th grade, has been rapidly declining.  According to the Washington Post, “In the 1990s, more than 80 percent of South Korea thought unification was essential, according to government polls. But that number has dropped to 56 percent. About 41 percent of those in their 20s feel that way. Among teens, the figure drops closer to 20 percent.”

Young Koreans are wary of the economic ramifications that the absorption of the ravaged North may have on their country, despite the successful precedent of East & West Germany in 1989.

With Germany as an example of what may be possible, I have asked myself if the challenge transcends the economic to something deeper in the national psyche.

And so, in reading Exodus 13:8 tonight, I began to think about whose narrative South Korea is telling.  Unlike our explicit instructions for Passover, my friends in Seoul tell of the exodus of their ancestors.  Their collective memory excludes them personally – their story is of a past that is becoming increasingly disconnected from their present – and  future.

At the end of each seder, we recite the phrase “next year in Jerusalem,” reflecting and affirming the traditional Jewish longing for a peaceful and Messianic capital – both figuratively and literally.

Perhaps this year, at a seder  in Seoul, someone at this very moment is saying, next year in Pyongyang. 

Peering past the ROK soldiers into North Korea

North Korean side of the JSA

Bridge of No Return