Welcome to paradise

Going to North Korea have been something of a dream, but also partly a nightmare. Last year, a couple of friends of mine went there. And I felt the time had come for me to venture into this land of mystery. I found a company in England who arranged tours for both groups and individuals. I wanted to bring a friend of mine from England on the trip, but was unable to get hold of him before I had to book my trip.
As usual, my normal disclaimers are still valid. The title of this blog is The world According to Ragnar. Which basically means : This is not the Truth. This is the way I see it. The way I felt it. The way I observed it. Enjoy!

I left for Beijing on the 26th. The following are my notes and descriptions of what I did and my thoughts through the trip. If I were to write all my thoughts, this blog would have been three times as long. So this is just an excerpt. Hope you find it interesting to read. Comments are welcome. Flaming and name-calling is not. This blog is also just one long entry. Since internet does not exist in North Korea and China has censored my blog, I had to wait to publish it till I got home. Images will come in a separate entry.

On my way

As the D5 train accelerated to 250 km/h, we left the morning mist of Beijing behind. I had a seat in first class. A strange concept in itself. The classless dream society of Marx has become divided. Like George Orwell in his famous "Animal Farm". All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others." It is clear that communism only works for the lower classes. The upper classes will always ride on first class no matter which political system they proclaim.
Shenyang was my next stop on this journey towards North Korea. I started to feel the tingling in my feet. The tingling I haven't felt for years. Not since I as a "virgin" sat on the plane that thundered across the plains outside of Caracas, Venezuela, on final approach. Not knowing what to expect. My agent contact here in China had given me some advice. Do's and don'ts. He had spoken to the tourist company in North Korea. Telling them that since I was a lone traveler, they could relax a bit and let me see a bit more than the tour groups. I would be easier to handle. Some advice on how to become friends with the guards and the officers at Panmunjon. Befriend the officers, and the world is at your feet. I will bring chocolate and post cards from my home country. And cigarettes from China. As a dedicated non-smoker myself, I don't feel too comfortable about the latter. But my contact here recommended this as a welcomed gift for men in North Korea. It will bring a smile on their faces. And a smile in North Korea will take you far. Especially if the one smiling is an agent or officer.
I was wondering when I read about the people going across the border to China to smuggle goods back, how they are able to bribe the border guards. But I realize that they are just as much in need as the rest of the people. They don't have anything more than most. Only the officers have the easy life. So anything they can lay their hands on without endangering themselves, is a welcomed thing. So too with the guides and other that I will meet. A friend of mine who was in North Korea last year, told me that when his group gave the guides a tip, amounting to a sizable sum in North Korea, they almost seemed untouched by it. Like money didn't mean anything to them. And I guess it doesn't. In a country with nothing to buy, why do you need money? My Chinese contact confirmed this. Goods from the outside world is of much higher value to them than money. These are the things they cannot get their hands on normally. The tourists are the only ones who are allowed to bring them into the country. Chocolate, cigarettes, cosmetics for women. Tangible values.
At the time of writing, I am sitting in my room at the 11'th floor of the Rose Hotel in Shenyang. Outside, it is noisy. Traffic, speakers screaming out offers from shops. The smog is laying like a lid on the city. The hotel is located in the middle of a pedestrian street with lots of shops. I have walked the strip several times. Tomorrow I will go to Pyongyang. A city with hardly any traffic. No shopping streets. At least that I am allowed to go to. And where power outages are common. From 2010 to the 50's in a short flight.
Scientist are pondering the idea of a time machine. They need look no further. It is called Air Koryo. And I've got a ticket to ride.

  

Day 1 : Welcome to paradise!

I didn't sleep much that night. Both because of anticipation, but also due to the fact that the night was very noisy outside my hotel in Shenyang. So when the alarm sounded, I was dead tired. I had planned to see the forbidden city of Shenyang before I left, but now I was to tired to bother. Spent most of the morning packing and preparing for takeoff.

At the airport, while waiting for the check-in to open, I noticed a bunch of peculiar looking men. They were all dressed in suits that looked like they where hand-me-downs from their father. Didn't seem to fit at all. Then I noticed the small button they all carried. Kim il-Sung smiling. Yup. North Koreans. The elite obviously. Both because they were allowed to travel abroad, but also because they brought heaps of capitalist stuff, like lcd-tv's, booze and other stuff. And I mean HEAPS. Large cases stacked on several carts to be able to carry them along. Just before check-in, a man handed them all their passports. He was obviously in charge of making sure no-one got «lost». But why would they? They were the elite. They were well fed. Their children went to good schools. They got to go abroad and bring whatever they wanted back home. They lived in the elite areas of Pyongyang. And China has a policy of returning all refugees to North Korea. So jumping ship would mean certain death for themselves and their family. Nobody escapes paradise except through death.

We boarded the Tupolev. Half an hour late. I got a window seat. A guy sat in the isle seat on the same row. But he looked like he had worms or something. Moving back and forth. Until they closed the doors, and no more where coming. Then he jumped to the other side of the isle. Relieved he didn't have to set next to an imperialist. He could risk me speaking to him. That would probably have made him soil his pants.

I listened to the background music. High praises to the eternal sun of the world. Kim il-Sung. I seriously started to question my sanity. The security video started by saying that we should all be safe for the glory of our eternal sun and president, Kim il-Sung!Give me a break! I wasn't going to Disneyland. I was going to Kimland. The only difference being that even grownups here believed in the fairytale..

We landed at an airport that told the story of the next days in itself. The runway made the airplane rumble and shake. But the giant picture of Eternal President was perfect above the terminal. Passport check was done swiftly without any more ado. I was ignored by everyone. I was starting to wonder where my guides would be. I couldn't see anybody. The arrival hall was jam-packed with soldiers and guards. It took forever for my bag to arrive. It was, of course, one of the last to arrive. Finally I was ready for customs. A big tall guy came forward to me. “Cell!” he said, and showed me the sign for phone. I gave him my most dangerous weapon. My cell-phone. In Kimland, a foreigner with a mobile is more dangerous than a dozen hardened al-qaida bombers on acid. What if it landed in someones hand? They could actually find out what was going on outside of paradise. And the illusion would be broken.

My “guides” met me. A young lady, I called her ms Frosty, and a guy, I called him Smilee, and the driver I call Kimchi. The guy looked familiar. I suddenly remembered I had seen him on the video made my The Vice Guide on the internet. I almost told him, but remembered I was in the land of paranoia, and thought it best to avoid any suspicion.

Ms Frost I soon learned was the boss, and I started calling her “ms Frost” in my mind. Cause she only smiled when she could boast about something. And only spoke when she could brag about “our great leader ordered this building to be erected, and it is so and so much higher, better and more magnificent than anything else in the world!”. Smilee was more relaxed. He spoke better English and smiled more. And he both told and received jokes.

Ms Frost took my passport and we headed off to the hotel. The only one allowed to cater to foreigners. The 47 story Yanggakdo Juche Hotel. It was packed with Mercedeses. Dignities from the elite, and some foreign guests.

I was checked in and was told to meet in the lobby at 17.30 for discussing the itinerary for the next days. I showed up, and had brought my Norwegian gifts. Chocolate and postcards. Ms Frost received and put it in her bag. Smilee looked at the cards and commented on them. Especially did he like the card from Geiranger. Ms Frost was not amused. This was the time she earned her name. She froze. And insisted we go over the plans for the next days. We stepped through it all. In detail. I realized what it was like to be a Japanese tourist. I was about to embark on a tour to convince me of the superiority of the North Korean political system and its leader. Propaganda machine, engage!

After this, I was guided to the restaurant where I would eat my dinner and breakfast the next days. Ms Frost told me with a stiff face that I should sit “in this restaurant and at THIS table”. Yessiree, ma'm!

When we entered the restaurant, I heard her speak to the waitresses “noruwei!” (Norway). They all bowed and smiled in a “I don't know how much I should smile, but I am told to do it.”-style. The food was Korean, in abundance, and they never asked whether I liked beer. They seemed to assume I did. The waitresses and hostesses were sweet and polite. And I was their only guest. After being stuffed with everything I could imagine, the waitress came up to me and whispered “you're finish!”. After which I retired to my room after bowing and smiling and thanking the girl at the door, who responded with a startled smile and bowed back at me.

My room is bugged. No question about that. And I have a mirror on my wall that seems a bit suspicious. It seems like some of the light is gone. I was warned that some rooms even have cameras installed behind mirrors in the room. I guess I am the lucky winner...

My room was at the 33'rd floor. No balcony, but windows I could open. And I did. Looked over at Pyongyang by night. Not an impressive sight. Most of the city is dark. Only the Tower of the Juche Idea is lit at all times. And this hotel, of course.

First day in Kimland. 5 more to go. I got to keep my laptop for some reason. Luckily. So now I can write my blog.

Day 2 : How to make ms Frost hate you.

Ok. Ms Frost now officially hates me. Here's the story. Today I was taken to the holiest of mountains for North Koreans. Mount Myohang. Here the shrines of holiness lies. The friendship exhibition hall of Kim il-Sung and his son, Kim Jong-Il. We arrived at the holiest of holy just as a large group of North Koreans ascended on the place. We drove past all the suit-dressed men. And they all looked at me like I was the devil himself. Wearing their Kim il-Sung buttons, as everybody is required to do, they stood in line to be allowed into the shrine. We had to wear protective sleeves on our shoes as not to infect the floor with our impurities. No cameras allowed. An enthusiastic lady showed us all the goodies from all over the world. Showing, according to her, how much revered the Great Leader was in all the world. I took a mental note on the fact that most all of the presents were from known dictators and despots, in addition to local communist and socialist parties around the world. The enthusiastic guide showed her great appreciation for the leader. It almost looked as if she was an actor putting on an Oscar-performance. But I soon came to the realization that she wasn't acting. She truly believed that the whole world held her leader in the highest regard. And that is what is scary. The total indoctrination. Total control. No wonder despots of the world revered Kim. He had fulfilled what was only a wet dream of most politicians and leaders : To get a whole nation to believe that you are a semi-deity, and love you no matter how much you make them suffer. And never question anything.

The guide asked me about my nationality. “Ah! Noruwei!”. And she took us to a room where the gifts “from the people of Norway” was displayed. They were from the Norwegian communist party, Sosilistisk Folkeparti (Now SV) and Bjørnar Simonsen of the Norwegian department of the KFA. From the people of Norway? Hardly. From some marginalized and partly deranged people in Norway. The guide asked me about the longboats of the vikings, as there where three models on display. So I told her about the fierce warriors who drank the blood of their enemies from their sculls and who raped and pillaged in a high of mjod and poisonous mushrooms. Fearless and insensitive to pain. Ok, so I added a bit. But I was just inspired by the local tradition of overdoing it...

At this point ms Frost asked me how I felt about the gifts of Norway being displayed here. “Nothing special.” I said. I could see she wanted to slice my throat. OK, so now she REALLY hates me. She, of course, wanted to hear how overwhelmed I was that our humble gifts had reached the “eternal sun of the earth”, and found to be worthy of display in his holiness' own gallery of gifts. I tried saving my step, but fumbled with words. Lying isn't as easy for me as it is for those who believe it to be the truth.

Then I was taken to a room where a life-size statue of Kim il-Sung, made from wax, was displayed. “Here, every man who has ever visited, had felt the need to bow his head”, ms Frost said. Making it clear what to be expected of me. I felt nothing but disgust when I entered the room. That and a certain need to laugh at the formalities. I stood in the background while the three guides stood at attention in front of the statue. Ms Frost looked at me harshly and pointed in millitary style to the place besides her. When I stood beside her, she bowed as far down as dignity would allow her without flashing her underwear. I stood there watching her, and gave a short nod to the wax statue. I don't think I should reveal my thoughts at the time...

After we had left, ms Frost asked me what I had felt when I was standing in front of the statue of the President. “Oh, he looked very lifelike!”, I said. Which was true. He did. That's why I felt so disgusted. She does NOT like me now. The whole rest of the session, I was left with mr Smilee. He was much more low key, and spoke MUCH better English. It was a relief.

Next stop was a “buddhist temple”. Weeeeell. I have seen many buddhist temples. This looked like a tourist version. Complete with its own buddhist monk. The guide told me that the “indiscriminate bombing by the US imperialists during the war had damaged many of the buildings, but when the Great Leader saw this, he instructed the reconstruction!”. Maybe bombs destroyed some of the buildings, but my guess is that the socialist movement didn't want any religious movements in their country, and so destroyed it. And probably only rebuilt it when they found the propaganda-value in it. Like my guide told me : “You know, buddhists aren't supposed to kill, but when the monk such-and-so heard that the japanese were invading, his love for his fatherland was greater, so he fought alone against the japanese, even at the age of 75! He showed his love for his country, and so is an inspiration to us all!”. Nice touch. Korea is so great that even buddhists give up their religion to protect her. Riiiiight....

Then off to climb the mountain. Everywhere filled with propaganda. Like “Our ironwilled leader, Kim Jong-Il!”. Yeah right. Spoiled, overweight brat with a bad hair-do. And his ironwill has more to do with his will to fill up his swiss bank-account with billions of dollars from exporting illicit drugs.

Man! This place is FUBAR.

Today I got to eat at a “chinese restaurant” at the hotel. Still alone. Still separated from other foreigners. Still seated at designated places. Oh well. 4 more days.

In my hotel room, I started singing loudly to whoever was listening in on my room. Bugged? Of course my room was bugged. I sang out of key, out of tune and out of this world. It was a great moment!

Day 3 : The Thing that only the people of DPRK could have constructed by their iron will, and their magnificent leader, also known as a dam.

The day was a beautiful one. The sun was shining, and melting away the early morning mist of Pyongyang. I had a date with a special construction outside a city named Nampo. The west sea barrage. The pride of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. Who personally designed and practically built the thing. The 1 and an half hour drive was conducted in silence. Ms Frost was replaced this day by Ms Keen. An always smiling girl with a cute lisp. But after the formal introductions and small talk, there wasn't much more to say. I think both my guides were a bit suspicious about my intentions here. I didn't care. It gave me time to study the countryside. To study the people and their dwellings. That's the way I like to travel.

We arrived in Nampo, and the propaganda started pouring out of ms Keen. Like on a queue, she told me about how the brilliance of Great Leader had shown the people how to build the dam. It was like listening to a machine. Whenever I asked something about a mountain or a city of no importance, she dismissed it. But whenever she saw something praising Great Leader, she started talking like a machine. Just insert a coin. The barrage was no exception. It was really a simple barrage. Just a wall of dirt and rocks for the most part. And a simple sluice system to let water and boats pass. Nothing advanced really. But this was not enough for the propaganda machine. I was lead to a room where I was sat down in front of a tv, and they put on a propaganda video about the barrage. With a male choir singing in the background, a dramatic story was told about the heroes of DPRK who fought the elements to save its people and for the glory of Great Leader Kim il Sung. It told how everyone worked voluntarily to make it happen. None of the videos ever let anyone speak for themselves.

The propaganda video displayed was the perfect example of how it all works for the indoctrination of the people of North Korea. A narrator tells what the people are saying, you never hear it yourself. When the Carter delegation to the barrage is shown, an American is interviewed. But we never hear what he says. The narrator on the other hand, tells us that he said that the barrage was an impressive thing that only the people of DPRK and its Great Leader Kim Il Sung could have accomplished. Yeah right. I filmed the barrage with my camera. Afterward, Smilee asked me if we had any dams in my country. When I told him that we had several, he was puzzled. “Big ones?”. I told him that most of our electricity came from hydroelectric power. He got something to chew on. He had probably believed the lie that only DPRK could have built something like this. I told him about how things are in Norway, and he listened carefully. Until ms Frost called to get us back to Pyongyang. She had some family affair to attend to, but it had been resolved now.

Back in Pyongyang, I was taken to the metro. I pulled out my compact camera, and switched it on video. And filmed the whole descent into the metro. I knew what to expect. This was of course only one of the many metro stations in Pyongyang. Selected at “random” to show how great it was. And the propaganda machine started up again, stating that this was the deepest in the world and that bla bla bla, Great Leader told us bla bla bla and the great people of the DPRK bla bla bla. You get the picture. I was allowed to ride the metro to the next “random” station to show that the beautiful station was only an example. Riiiight... I filmed the people inside the car. The kids were curious, the old skeptical, and the adults looked as if they wanted to ignore me. Probably because of my guides sitting next to. No speaking to me. Could not have any of that. I wanted to ask if I could ride it one more station, but I don't like lies, and wouldn't want to provoke people into lying. One thing is indoctrinated lies. Another thing is to lie consciously.

After lunch at Yanggakdo (where I was specifically instructed by ms Frost NOT to leave the hotel under any circumstances) , I had three things on the program. The “birthplace of Kim Il Sung”, a film studio and the “Great War Victory monument”.

The “birthplace of Kim Il Sung” is meant to show how humble beginnings Great leader had. Of course, If one checks the historic records, one finds that Kim Jong Il was born in Russia. And that Kim Il Sung most likely wasn't born here. But it was a good story. Where we are told that Kim wrote his first word at the age of four. And the word was “revolution”. This only shows that he was ready to fight for his people against the “imperialist aggressors”. The whole place was supposed to have been the original buildings and such. But for some reason, everything looked like it had been made a couple of years ago. (I later asked one of the guides how it could be that the Americans bombed everything to smithereens all over Pyongyang, but failed to hit this place. “They only hit it a bit, and that was fixed.”. This was actually the first time I saw the guide had to think for a minute before he answered. It was probably the first time he had gotten the question...)

In the film studio, a gray-haired older guy with the smell of cheap liquor greeted us and took us on a tour of the facilities. If I had spent my entire life producing lies about Great Leader and the Korean war, I think I would have turned to the bottle myself... The first thing he wanted to show me, was of course the gigantic monument of Dear Leader, instructing the people on how to make good films. “He visited the studio personally 550 times, in order to tell us how to make good movies, and give guides on how to run the studio.” No question about that. Kim Jong Il spent most of his young adulthood creating the image of his father as a semi-deity. And films were a great part of that. Besides, Kim likes movies. In fact, he loves them so much that he kidnapped two of South Korea's best actors to have them improve the quality of North-Korean films. Kim was known for kidnapping people he liked...

The studio was empty. Nothing happened there. “They aren't filming today!”. Strangely, they don't seem to ever film. Despite the fact that they according to themselves, make 30 films a year... But I was driven to the pride of the studio, the buildings and streets they used for filming. “You know, in the rest of the world, they just use front walls, and there is nothing behind them. We built complete buildings”, ms Propaganda Machine told me. “No, we stopped using that 50 years ago. Now we use real buildings in cities and everywhere else.” She ignored me. I asked what types of movies they produced. “Mostly historic movies” he told me. Propaganda movies in other words. Showing the “historic facts” of what happened during the revolution and the Korean war. They proudly showed me some “european houses”. I have never seen anything like it anywhere in Europe...

The last thing on todays plan, was the Great War Victory monument. War, war, war. For somebody who only wants peace, there seems to be a lot of war-praising going on here...

I was so tired after this day of propaganda, that I started regretting I didn't opt for the 4 day compact tour. I was now half-way through. But I started to feel like bursting. Normally I vent my frustrations at intervals to avoid explosions. But here it seemed impossible. This would change the next day.

Day 4 : Kaesong

This day was probably the most interesting for me. Not because I was led to a new massive amount of great monuments, but rather because I was allowed to see a piece of original Korean history. And also, this was the day I took the chance of airing my frustrations over the obvious faults of the society they called paradise.

We left relatively early to do the 2 and a half hour drive to Kaesong. As usual, the trip went without much speaking. Which suits me fine. Really. I like looking at landscape and people. Thinking about what I observe, and try to imagine what they are thinking. The people of this country. The farmers bent over the fields. The child digging in the dirt. What. Why.

Midway to Kaesong we stopped at the odd tea-house that I saw in the Vice Guide to North Korea. It was shut now. The lady was still there, but only to let the needy traveler empty their bladder in the toilet without water. I relieved myself and tried to flush. Nothing. No water in the fossit. The walls were run-down like much in this country. In fact, the only things here that are always spotless and clean, are monuments and pictures of the Kims.

In a field near the tea-house, I saw some farmers. I wanted to film them, but was uncertain whether it would be allowed. So I walked around to the other side of the tea-house, so the guides would not see me. But a guy cam walking from the fields. He saw me, and fear came unto his eyes. He looked at a soldier on the other side. I decided not to film. I didn't want to risk someone else. I walked back to the car, and pretended to start filming the tea-house. I let the camera roll while I lowered it to film the fields by the road. My heart jumped when my guides called me to get into the car. I was sure they were on to me. But they weren't. I shut off the camera and hoped I had gotten some footage. I had, but only for a brief moment.

When we arrived in Kaesong, we stopped at a restaurant for lunch. I was shown to a small room where I was to sit on the floor. Alone. Eating lunch. After finishing my lunch, which actually wasn't that bad, I realized that I could open the window in the room. I was able to see the back yard. I took my compact-camera and filmed some of what was going on there. I almost got a heart-attack when I thought someone entered the room. It was just some breeze that moved the door. I closed the window and walked downstairs and out into the street. I pretended to check my images, and started filming a bit more, before my guides showed up.

We drove to the hotel. The Kaesong Folk Hotel. It used to be the home of a rich person a long time ago. With 95 rooms. “Exploiter!” mr Smilee said with a puff. Well who owns the gigantic mansion on the outskirts of Pyongyang then? I smiled and pretended like nothing. I felt the boiler was about to burst. My mood was dropping. I felt like running away from them. Screaming. Anything just to get something out of my system.

After settling in my room, we went to the Korean Museum. At last something that wasn't just pure propaganda. Although they managed to squeeze in some here too. About the greatness of bla bla bla and how Great Leader Kim il Sung had taught them many things bla bla bla.... I began to realize that nothing was done in this country unless it could be used for propaganda purposes. I ignored them and took pictures.

There was a wedding party filming and photographing when we arrived. They looked at me with a certain degree of uncertainty when we arrived. I stopped. My guides wanted me to continue. “I don't want to intrude into their session”, I said. “No problem” Smilee said. I didn't feel comfortable and tried my best to avoid walking close to them or getting into the line of their cameras. The guides seemingly didn't care.

After the museum I was taken to the mausoleum of king Wanggong, the father of the Koryo dynasty. And the first to unite the whole Korean peninsula. It was a beautiful place. A local guide took us around the site and described everything in detail. At the entrance of the tomb, there was something that first appeared to me to be a phallos. Smilee asked if I saw what it was. I smiled. “I think so!”, I said. “It has a hole on the top”, Smilee said. “I bet it does”, I said. “It is a lotus flower”, he said. “Oh!!!” I exclaimed. A bit embarrassed, I took some pictures and walked away.

The sun was setting, and our driver was washing the car. Nothing much to do than wait. And wait. And finally, we drove back to the hotel. I had an hour of relaxation before I was taken to the restaurant where I was to eat my dinner. Alone. Again. But with a cute waitress to serve me. At least I didn't feel too alone. She spoke no English. And I spoke no Korean. So we exchanged smiles for the most part.

After dinner, I invited the two guides into the restaurant and offered to buy some beers. Two beers cost 0.55 euros, so I didn't exactly feel like I was a big spender... I wanted to talk to them. Get something out of my system. I knew I had to thread lightly. Stay sharp. Not curse the Eternal Sun of the Earth.

Ms Frost was silent most of the conversation. Just sat there, staring at me with eyes filled witg suspicion and maybe a hint of disgust? I didn't care. I wanted to speak to Smilee the most anyway.

He started speaking about the perfect system of socialist economy. And I agreed (seriously) that the system of socialist economy was a very good one. But I disagreed that it would work in real world applications. Smilee insisted that DPRK was a paradise and that everyone had everything they needed. I decided not to debate this, but instead asked how the system worked. Since the system should be self-sufficient. And since the people was destined to increase in numbers. How would they supply food to everyone if they were not to buy food from anyone else, and the fact that only 20% of North Korea was able to bear crops. He changed the subject. Now to the war and the army. And how the “US imperialist forces” had occupied South Korea. And how afraid they where of the North Korean army. I tried to explain how this defied logic. The discussion progressed through the whole of the Korean war, the preceding Japanese occupation. And he kept stating the impenetrability of the forces of North Korea. Because they were “One though, One mind!”. I asked how much that would help if the US decided to annihilate the country with nukes. “They cannot!” he exclaimed. “We will shoot down any rocket.” “How?” I inquired. “I don't know, but we are so strong they would not dare to even try. That is why they haven't so far, even though they have plans to do it. But we are one unified thought. One mind. And no nukes can kill that!” He put up a proud look on his face. I felt I had to give him a scenario to describe how failed his logic was.

“If the US wanted to wipe you out, they would have done so a long time ago. If they launch a nuclear attach on you, it will probably be by stealth cruise missiles. These move at close to the speed of sound. Since they are stealth, you cannot see them on radar. Since they move at close to the speed of sound, you cannot hear them until after they pass you. And since they move through valleys and hillsides, you won't see them until they have passed. And when the missile reaches downtown Pyongyang and lights up the sun, the only unified thought that will cross the minds of the 3 million citizens before their eyes explode and their skin starts to boil is 'Oh shit'”.

Smilee changed the subject. Ms Frosty went over to the bar and called someone. I thought “Crap! Now she'll call someone and tell them what I have said. I am in deep shit now!” So I thought I had nothing to loose, and just continued dismantling everything Smilee said. It was obvious that he was starting to become tired of me. He was probably used to people just accepting everything he said. But I have no respect for wrong or weak logic. I know I could probably piss off Dalai Lama if I chose to. At this point in the conversation we had entered the topic of my choosing. The closed society where everything was controlled. Now ms Frost stepped into the conversation. “We have freedom here. Haven't you noticed that we call our country 'democratic'”. “Calling something democratic doesn't make it democratic. If you are so free, why am I not allowed to take photos of what I want?” I asked. She looked at me with a puzzled look. “Who have denied you taking photos?”. “You have!” I said. “NO!” she protested. “Ok, in that case I will take photos of everything I want the next days then!” I said. Ms Frost knew I had made her paint herself into a corner. I could see the “Oh shit!” look in her eyes. She had walked straight into the check mate with eyes wide open. Smilee tried to save the day by saying they were only afraid I would give a bad picture of North Korea. Now it was my time to ignore them. I bid them good night. With a smirk on my face I walked back to my room and slept like a baby. It felt good. I'm a stinker, am I not?

Day 5 : Panmunjon,

The destination of the day became almost like a symbol of yesterdays conversation. The car had become the demilitarized zone. We had an unwritten truce agreement. I could do everything I wanted in peace. But like the area we were visiting, there was no peace-agreement. The power balance had just shifted. Now they had to keep their part of the agreement. I filmed and photographed everything I wanted.

Before we arrived at the DMZ, I was told about how dangerous it was for me here, and that they had to take on a soldier to protect me. “From what?” I asked. “They want nothing more than to kidnap you!” Smilee said. “Why would they want to kidnap me? I am one of them!”. He stuck to his story. We had to wait for half an hour waiting for a couple of others. One was the Pakistani Air Force Attache to Beijing on official visit. I struck a conversation with him. Nice guy. We had a few laughs and some discussion about the DMZ and the war. Seemed like we agreed, although he was a diplomat, and thus didn't want to insult his hosts. The two others we waited for, were an aid worker from the Swiss government and a friend of hers. When they arrived, the Pakistani officer asked her about the state of North Korea. She sighed. “They need a LOT of help here!”. At this point my guides walked off. They didn't want to hear. Didn't want their illusions to break. DPRK was a paradise, and nobody should tell them otherwise.

Finally, we drove to the demarcation line. But on the way, we were taken to the room where “The US imperialist forces were forced to sign a surrender agreement.” I had to cough in order not to start laughing.

At the demarcation line, there were only North Korean soldiers. There was nobody on the south side. I asked Smilee where all the dangerous people where. The Swiss aid worker said “they are probably on Easter vacation!” We all laughed. The illusion the NK people had tried so hard to create, was broken. It wasn't dangerous for us, of course. I had heard stories of people being kidnapped by NK soldiers. But Smilee didn't give up. “Do you see the windows in the so-called “freedom building” on the other side?” he asked. I nodded. “There are dozens of binoculars pointing this way as we speak.” he said in a very sinister voice. “So you are saying the soldiers are here to protect us from the dangerous binoculars?” I asked with obvious ridicule in my voice. He walked away. The only danger for us at the DMZ, was being bored to death.

We drove back to the hotel in Kaesong and had lunch there. As usual, I ate alone. Except for the same cute waitress. After lunch we stopped at a shop where I could buy souvenirs and postcards. I bought a lot of typical Korean stuff. After this we drove back to Pyongyang. I filmed a lot and took a lot of photos. Like I had promised the evening before...

Of course, there was one monument that was obvious to stop at. The reunification monument on the outskirts of Pyongyang. Ms Propaganda Machine fired up about Great leader and his wish for peace and reunification. Under his leadership of course. Like “everybody in South Korea wants!” according to Smilee. Right...

Now onto what is probably the greatest propaganda scoop of all times for North Korea. The American spy-ship Pueblo. Captured by the North Korean navy in 1968. The crew was tortured for months until their release 11 months later. But on the Pueblo you are shown a propaganda video which claims that they all were amazed at how humane they were treated by the DPRK. At this point I was so saturated by all the propaganda that I almost started laughing. I ignored most of what the guide said. It would be lies and half-truths anyway. So I didn't see the point. After I returned home, I checked the story on the internet. I laughed hard and long when I read what the crew had written on their “confession”. “We paean the DPRK, we paean the North Korean People, We paean the Great Leader Kim Il Sung.” Paean means to glorify or something like that. But when you read it out loud, it sounds like “pee on” (as in “piss on”). Of course, the DPRK version is that the crew were weak and overwhelmed by the mighty force of the North Korean soldiers. That they all wept, and that 7 North Korean soldiers captured 83 American soldiers. Riiight... It had nothing to do with the fact that they were shelled by grenades, of course...

The guide was proud to show me the “apology document” from the US showing that they were forced to admit to the crimes of the US imperialist forces against the DPRK. After we left, I asked my guides whether North Korea wrote letters of apology when their spies were captured. They ignored me.

Next was the Arch of triumph. 10 meters higher than the one in Paris. I wondered how many starved to pay for it. Then the Workers Party Monument. Owing the heroics of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il, and how the Workers Party would eventually create peace and prosperity for the whole world. Again, this was erected during the famine. Great way to spend money. When people starve, erect monuments to show them how great their country is...

Since we had some time before we where to eat dinner, I was taken to a book exhibition close to the monument. Most of the books where the complete “works” by the Kims. But one book caught my attention : “On the human rights situation South Korea” issued by “The human rights research center, Pyongyang.” Now there's a contradiction in terms. Showing photos that where most likely taken in the north, and describing the brutal southern regime's treatment of peaceful demonstrators. Sick. Sick. Sick. And people actually write this. And publish it. Sick.

This last night we actually ate together. Me and the guides and the driver. I think they were a bit tired of me, since they had no particular interest in talking to me. And they were probably not interested in me tricking them again...

I spent a lot of time looking at Pyongyang the last night from the window in my room. Thought about all I had seen and heard. It was almost tiring. I felt happy that I was leaving and sorry for the people that had to stay.

Day 6 : Going home.

I packed my stuff, took a shower and went down for my last breakfast at my regular seat in the restaurant. I spoke with an Australian woman in the restaurant. She was in a group that would stay for 7 days. “I pity you” I said.

Before I left the room, I said goodbye to those who were listening in on my room. I felt he or she or they had been patient. Listening patiently to my singing and speaking these days. I got to ride the glass elevator one last time down to the lobby.

I spoke to Smilee and asked if he could arrange to buy me some local currency. He went up to the counter at the hotel an spoke to a woman behind the desk. After some loud argument, she let me buy some notes. I paid gladly. I knew it was illegal, but I also knew that my guides were eager to show how free they were to do whatever they wanted. I guess that was part of the arguments he used towards her.

I put the Won in my wallet and we headed for the train, with just a short stop on the Kim Il Sung square. No propaganda. Just “take photos, please!”. I shot a bunch of pictures and nodded. On to the train. The train was long, and packed. I was put in one of the few wagons destined for China. The rest were filled with passengers going to other places in North Korea.

I knew I had to hide the money from the customs people on the border. If they found them, who knows what would have happened. I brought a small bag with me to the toilet. Put the money into the bag and put the bag into my underwear.

And so the train progressed through the barren landscape. On the way I saw some of the shadow sides of paradise. I filmed some of it, but the North Koreans around me looked at me with suspicion, so I had to stop. I managed to copy all of it onto the secret drive I had on my laptop without anybody noticing.

Then we arrived at the border. Serious-looking people came on board. Taking our passports. Then the customs people came aboard. One woman was body-searched. I felt my pulse rising. Knowing that a thorough body-search of me would reveal a strange lump on the front of my trousers. I tried to look calm. My heart raced as the customs guy came to me. Wanted to check everything. I showed him everything he wanted to check. Hoping that he would not order a more thorough search. After half an hour, he had checked all my cameras, (which were now clean, of course) all my belongings and my conscience. He was satisfied. I was allowed to carry my mobile phone, and to leave North Korea. I have crossed many borders in my life. But I think this is actually the first time I have been nervous.

After almost two hours, we were ready to leave. I stood at the back of the train looking at the soldiers who stood at the platform. Soldiers with dogs wandered around the train, searching for people hiding underneath the train. And when the train started moving, soldiers were running beside the train to prevent anyone from getting on.

I felt tears in my eyes. For the people trapped in this prison. I could leave. They were stuck. I had a passport to freedom. They had a life sentence passed to them by someone they probably would never meet. And their only crime was being born here.

Brooklyn met me at the train station in Dandong, China. “How was it?” he asked. “i am glad I am out of it!”. He laughed. “I hear that all the time!”.

To the oppressed people of North Korea : I hope you some day will be free. I hope you one day will be able to speak your mind without fearing for your life or the life of your loved ones. I hope your children one day will speak to our children and meet friends, not enemies. And that they will sing songs of joy and play, not war and oppression.

Ragnar

Traveler

Final thoughts

After leaving North Korea, I had the chance to reflect on the country. How is it possible? How can you fool a whole nation into thinking you are a Great Leader, no matter what you do? If there is some brilliance in the Kims, it is their ability to market themselves. Everywhere, they are treated like semi-deities. The three tv-stations only air programs designed to tell people how great the leader is, and how terrible everyone else is in the world. DPRK is a paradise. Everywhere else is hell. Before I landed in this bizarre place, I thought that fear was what drove them. Not trust. All because it seems just too unbelievable. But when I looked into the eyes of people, both in the cities and towns, and the local guides, I saw conviction. Not fear. For some, fear may be the driving force, but when I heard from Smilee the "education system", I realized how it is possible to lead people to conviction. He told me about the fact that all children go to kindergarten in North Korea. I soon realized that it wasn't a right, it was a duty. So they could start the indoctrination at an early enough stage. On TV I saw music-videos where children where praising the Kims, and flying jet-fighters and bombers to slaughter the "imperialist forces". It made me feel sick. And this is what they learn everywhere. Glory to the Kims. Great Leader and Dear Leader. So brainwashed they are not able to think dissident thoughts. They live inside a prison, and don't know it. It is like Matrix. Most live their life happily unaware of the realities. That their minds, their lives and their destinies are in the hands of a small elite who wouldn't lift a finger if their people starved to death. In the propaganda, we learn how much the Kims have sacrificed for the people. While the truth is that when millions starved to death, Kim Jun Il had truckloads of Hennesy Cognac sent to him. He and his elite didn't starve, so why should they care?
The economy is falling apart, but Kim Jong Il is packing his pension fund with money earned from sales of illicit drugs. The best farmland in NK has been commissioned into growing poppies.
How is it possible to reform such a country? The simple answer is that there is no simple answer. Putting a bullet through Kim Jong Il's head will most likely spark the "One Nation One thought"-doctrine into war. Confirming that the "imperialists" are trying to colonize DPRK. The change ahs to come from within. People being told the truth from their own people. It is happening. Slowly, but relentlessly, a small opposition is growing inside paradise. Filming what is going on. Posting anti-Kim messages. Smuggling South-Korean movies and tv-series into NK and viewing them in "film-clubs. Things are happening, despite the strong efforts of the elite. And it will eventually break the power of the Kims. Bloodshed I fear is inevitable, but it is my sincere hope that the people suffering under the lies, will not die under the truth. And I hope that those responsible will not end up like all despots and dictators before them, living luxury lives under the protection of some other state. I hope they will be punished for their crimes. That they will spend the rest of their lives in the gulags they designed for those who dared oppose them.
There are a number of people in DPRK who know what is going on. But they live good lives shutting up about it. They are allowed to go abroad. They never starve. They live in elite areas of the cities. The have cars and mobile phones. And they are most likely to be the ones standing in line in western countries seeking political asylum when everything falls apart at home. They can afford it, and they have their passports. While the rest are stuck, left to pick up the pieces of their crumbling homeland.
Coming home to my own country, I was praising my fortune and blessing to have won the lottery. I have been born in a free country. The best country in the world according to the UN. There are some in my country who think North Korea is a paradise. I don't. They are more than welcome to move there. I prefer to keep my citizenship. If North Korea is paradise, I prefer the hell of Norway.

Ragnar