Democratic People's Republic of Korea - part 1

I’m not entirely sure how to begin the documentation process for my trip to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. I kept a detailed journal while I was inside (the word ‘inside’ has been deliberately chosen for its numerous connotations and because of the difficulty in getting both ‘in’ and ‘out’ again) because I wanted to avoid the hassle of trying to take a laptop. The border entry searches were laborious and extensive, but I’ll go into that later. My point here is that whilst I have an accurate record of everything that happened around me in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, I am still grappling with the greater significance of each grain of information I was presented with. A purely chronological account of my visit simply would not do, and yet if one is not chronological, where does one begin?

I suppose that yes, I have made lists of moments and people and anecdotes which I intend to process and share over the next few days, but I feel as though no matter how I approach this, I will fail. A very fundamental change has occurred within me, and it is affecting my perceptions of many things. How could I possibly communicate that with any adequacy? Perhaps I should begin with the politics - after having seen and experienced the workings of a communist state, complete with it’s propaganda and fear and poverty and totalitarianism. Or rather with my new perceptions of humanity - now that I have seen what happens to humans in environments so radically different to my own I am no longer sure of what is truly ‘human’ in nature. Or maybe I start with China – because I am looking at this country now with a real understanding of where it came from and how far it has developed within a few short decades.  

I do know for sure that the reason I am struggling is because my brain right now is like a swamp. I’m wading through all the muddy, confusing crap, and it just takes a little while till I break out into the clear river. What a killer metaphor. I digress. I’ve postponed this for nearly two whole days already, and I think I’m gonna have to start wading before I can even imagine what the river might look like.

Contrary to popular belief, if you go with a proper tour group and aren’t some kind of crazy enemy-of-the-state or diplomatic top-dog, getting a visa for DPRK isn’t really problematic right now. American passport holders can have difficulties depending on the (very fragile) state of relations between the two nations, and South Koreans do have to be a little cautious for the same reasons, but for a kid like me, it was all cool. You don’t get anything in your passport unless you are a Chinese passport holder (who knows why), so that’s a little disappointing, but I got in and out without too much hassle, so I really can’t complain.

I went with a company called Young Pioneer Tours, and I really can’t recommend them enough. They’re obviously aimed at a younger demographic, and sell themselves as “a tour company for people who hate tours” so I was pretty keen before I even left. As it turns out, the main man Gareth (who is a damn hilarious smokeslikeachimneyanddrinkslikeafish kind of guy, and a complete genius for all things DRPK) has discovered this great niche of taking people who usually backpack, to places where they can’t really go by backpacking. Their clientele are the epitome of awesomeness, and it really reinvigorated my faith in group travelling. They took us to all the biggest and best places (Arirang, Kim Il Sung’s mausoleum, the DMZ North/South border) but we also went to a whole bunch of super interesting smaller places (bookshops, parks, war museums). Each meal comes with beer, the numbers are capped, and the YPT guides pick only the best of the North Korean guides for their trips. Speaking of which, there were two groups of about 15 people and we had 4 North Korean guides plus a driver per group. A note out to the ladies, too, there were only 5 females on the trip and I was the only one of those five not in a couple – massive sausage-fest. LOL. Apparently females are much less common on trips to highly dangerous political areas. Who’da thunk it? There were people from Australia, Germany, England, Canada and French Canada, America, Austria and perhaps some others I can’t think of right now. I must reiterate, that all of these people were actually really awesome individuals. There must be something special about YPT, because as good as DPRK was, the best times were when I was chilling and drinking with my new pals. Sounds lame. Totally isn’t lame. Is totally cool. I would almost recommend going to DPRK just to meet the other kinds of people who want to go to DPRK.

I suppose I had a pretty good time with the people, but I’ve never been one to be able to separate my surroundings from my internal landscape. DPRK was highly educational, but only because it was challenging. I was exhausted by the end and glad to be back in China, which says a lot.

This next part is hard to explain. I feel as though my brain is a kind of container, almost like a house, I guess. It’s full of rooms and compartments for the different facets of my life, and these places –or rooms– have different interior designs and lighting schemes and playlists and are even filled with different people. I manage the home as any human would, and I clean it and make it dirty and clean it again as part of the process of life. I spend more time in some rooms than others, I even like some rooms more than others, but I am conscious of all of them at all times. In an instance, I can sit in a moment of self reflection and gaze at my mind as though it were the blueprints of the house. I never forget about the study when I’m in the kitchen, my name is my address, I live alone (not even with cats), and at times I find this too consuming. Too laborious. I have so many rooms. I don’t want to be having to think about the damn laundry when I’m in the bedroom. I can barely handle it. In this life, I don’t want to think about the news when I’m with friends. I am tired of thinking about exams when I’m enjoying dinner. But these rooms combine to make this house, and this house is who I am. When I retire I shall move quite literally and also internally, to a smaller house. Something far more manageable with far less rooms, and I long for this house already. At 19 I am just exhausted from having to think about such a stupid goddamned mansion of shit.

Why am I talking about this? Going to North Korea was the beginning of a renovation project to extend the walls and make space for a new room. Why would I want that? I didn’t want it. I still don’t want it. It’s there now, and it’s another place I have to furnish then clean and then spend my time in. Another place physically and internally, to be conscious of for the rest of my life. This room has altered my perceptions of all the others rooms, and has changed the schematics of the house. I haven’t adjusted to the new blueprint yet. I still resent the extra vacuuming. I had to go because it was an opportunity I could not live with myself for passing up. When I think about how bad that country is, it makes me feel so intensely grateful for every single thing that I have in my life right now. It is part of my growth as an informed, responsible individual within this world. It gives me enough badass credits to not have to go do crazy shit for a long time to come. As Hanna would say, I’ve leveled up.

I’m going back to posting everyday now and I’m having some quiet time in Beijing at the moment, so it will be DPRK for several more days. Hopefully by the end we’ll be swimming in a clear river together. Hahahahha, kidding. I promise no more rubbish metaphors.

North Korea

Tomorrow I leave for North Korea, or as it is formally known - "The Democratic People's Republic of Korea". That name is in inverted commas because it's just plain ridiculous.


I'm going to be honest here and say that I know just about nothing about NK. I have a basic understanding of how shit it is, and a working knowledge of how shit China is for being best buddies with such a super-shit country like NK, but other than that, I don't even know which one of those crazy kids is technically ruling the country. Apparently it's the dead one, and that NK is the only remaining necrocracy in the world. At least that's what Christopher Hitchens tells people. Having been to NK, he likens it to a kind of living hell from which the only escape is death. I recommend watching this as a good introduction to the topic. Needless to say, I would much rather spend my thousands on a nice trip to Thailand. 


I must be crazy. Who in their right mind decides to go look at statues of dickheads in the shittiest country in the whole world, instead of riding elephants and drinking cocktails from coconuts. Who. TELL ME WHO. Why do I do these things? 


WHY!?!?!???????????????


So anyway, I cannot take a mobile in with me (it would be confiscated at the border) and laptops are allowed but there is no internet, so starting from tomorrow afternoon, I am essentially Schrodinger's cat. Look it up. Here. Needless to say, my mum is pretty worried. I suppose I am also worried, but I'm trying not to think about it. I also can't take a camera lens bigger than 220mm, and can only take pictures at certain places. I have to wear formal attire for a few of the mausoleums, and under no circumstances may I speak to any non-pre-approved locals. I will not be let out of anyone's sight. Ever. I eat what they want me to eat and go where they tell me to go and probably even pee when they command me to pee. There are no choices about anything. Ever. I must give chocolates and large tips to my guides, and the most widely accepted currency is Euro. I seriously have no idea what the fuck is up with this place, dude. What the hell kind of Asian country uses Euro?


Now that I do think about it, actually, I am quite worried. Anything could happen, and I would be lost forever. No. Seriously. There would be no chance at all to get me back/out. It's not like that shitty 'Taken' movie where the chick gets taken then gets rescued back. It's not like anyone could come look for me. At all. Whatsoever. Nobody would be allowed in to come get me. I can't even text or email anyone. What if they decide to just keep me? They could do that, you know. They could decide to just not let me back out, and I would rot there. Like how a corpse rots in a basement. Rotting. In North Korea. I'm going to die. Tomorrow afternoon is the beginning of my decomposition process.


If it isn't, though, I will see you all in about a week with some interesting stories. Lol.


But not so lol.

The Summer Palace

The Summer Palace is a bit of a drive from our inner-city Beijing apartment, but it was worth the air-conditioned wait in the car in traffic. Not only because we're in hot, muggy, soggy, warm, wet season - but also because it's a damn amazing place. It's almost three square kilometers, and three quarters of that is a completely human-created lake. They literally dug a massive hole in the ground to make a big lake, then put all the dirt together in a big pile to make a mountain. And then they built a gigantic palace on top of the mountain. Classic China.

Got no rain? - Shoot rockets into the clouds to make the water come out!
Got some touchy political issues? - Put the words 'people' and 'republic' in front of your name!
Wanna lake? - Dig it!
Wanna mountain? - Dude, you really can have it all!

Musings aside, it's an incredible national-scale 'can-do' attitude that they've always had, and seeing the Summer Palace reminds you of the wondrous capabilities of the Chinese. I also think that the Summer Palace is the perfect example of China's current attitude towards historical and tourist sites. Most of these kinds of places that I have travelled to share several similar characteristics.

Firstly, because China does everything on such a grand scale, these locations (The Forbidden City, Great Wall and Terracotta Warriors are all perfect examples of this) are extremely high maintenance and difficult to manage. The government could certainly do a much better job, but I can certainly sympathise with the fact that they have a shitload of amazing stuff to keep and eye (and broom) on.

Secondly, and this is a result of the first thing, all of the sites are well maintained in certain areas and left in complete disrepair in others. Most tourists in China are actually Chinese people from all over the massive country going to other areas of their massive country, and this weird thing happens where all of them only ever go to certain sections of the famous places. Of course, they only ever go to the popular and well-presented areas. What this means, is that often in China if you are clever about your destinations, you can often quite easily avoid the crowds...

Which brings me to a third point. The best parts of famous Chinese destinations are never the famous parts. The deserted sections of the Great Wall like Jinshanling have had less restoration and just ooze awesomeness compared to their popular siblings like the Badaling sections. The tiny hutong-like alleys in the Forbidden City open up a whole new world of insight, compared to the classic straight-line-through which most tourists follow along. This brings me back to the Summer Palace.

When you squeeze your way through the customary crowds and make it into the walls of the Summer Palace, you can followed the packed promenade, or you can take a couple of detours amongst the lovely leafy and less-populated higher areas. Almost everyone chooses to walk along the side of the lake, following the designated paths, but my appreciation of the size and complexity of the Summer Palace skyrocketed after I climbed a small stone path and literally got off of the literally beaten track.

 The first thing you notice is, of course, the massive lake and the beautiful panorama is presents. It's an amazingly big expanse of free space considering it's location in China, let alone Beijing. The lake harbours thousand of waterlily plants. Often they are flowering, and are appreciated for their visual appeal. Often they are not flowering, and the lotus roots are harvested for their deliciousness.

This is the lovely walk along the banks of the lake. It is understandably popular and makes for a delightful stroll. I think some people arrive in the morning and treat the Summer Palace almost like a family picnic spot. I have seen parents and children with whole feasts, and I have seen plenty of people snoozing. This place actually has a wonderfully relaxed vibe about it. Ironic considering it was a palace, but hey, it works.

 These stone stairs lead from the water level up to a higher level of almost completely concealed walkways. There is an entire section of empty pagodas and paths in a much leafier and quieter area of the palace grounds. Once we were up these stairs, we were serenaded by beautiful birds and could actually hear our own thoughts. My lungs loved the clear air and my eyes could wander my surroundings without being on constant alert for masses of moving human obstacles.

 In these quieter sections, though, a lot of incredible things had been left to the mercy of time and nature. This fresco painting is a perfect example. Undoubtedly, it was once lovely.

My mother is an incredible artist, and always points out amazing textures to me when we are out together. China is full of fine details. From the paths to the roofs and everything in between, if you stop and look around you will find your are eternally in the presence of interestingness.

 The Summer Palace is actually really massive and so many rooms and so many buildings that I can't even begin to imagine what they might all be for. This place was the royal family's weekend getaway - it wasn't even their proper actual palace!

I know, they were a very indulgent bunch...

Yet another example of old China vs. new China. Like dumplings in Starbucks or plasma advertising screens in ancient city streets, this country sure nails the 'contrast' criteria.

This is the view of the palace itself from a seat on one of the mini barges which will ferry you to the other side of the lake. You can also hire little paddle-boat type things!

The summer palace on Sundays is apparently filled with local makeshift choirs singing out the Chinese classics with grandchildren in tow. We fully intend to return to this great place at least once before leaving Beijing. I cannot recommend it enough. If it interests you, I would also suggest having a look at some of the historical photos of the Summer Palace. It was occupied by different enemies in different wars, and has been through a lot of makeovers. The 1920's was a particularly glamorous time for the Summer Palace and its occupants. Google it!