Infiltrating North Korea Part 2: The challenges of being a tourist by Neil Woodburn Dec 7th 2007 @ 10:00AM If my hotel

was any inclination of what to expect in North Korea--and it turned out to be-my time spent in the Hermit Kingdom would be as a distant observer far removed from the everyday life and culture of North Koreans and cut off from the general populace itself. Yanggakdo Hotel is a foreigners-only hotel located on a small island in the middle of a river near the center of Pyongyang (the building on the left in the photo below). Locals were not allowed near it and foreigners couldn't step off the island without their designated tour guide. In fact, merely walking out the hotel doors for some fresh air in the evening was usually met with nervous doormen who would shoo me back inside to the numerous hotel amenities designed to keep captive tourists entertained--such as a bowling alley, health spa, pool, ping pong tables, and even a small casino in the basement. Even if I had managed to sneak out, I wouldn't have gotten far. There were no taxis to take me anywhere and, for that matter, there was nowhere to go. Bars simply didn't exist and showing up to a restaurant without my "minder" would have caused a panic. Plus, there was the small matter of money. Foreigners weren't allowed to possess North Korean currency and any local discovered taking dollars from a tourist was in for some big problems. Lastly, I'm a 6'4" American with light brown hair; sneaking out and blending in with the populace just wasn't going to happen. One simply cannot wander about on one's own in North Korea. Every tour group is manned by at least one tour guide and one member of the Ministry of the Interior (i.e. the secret police). Of course every secret policeman has a cover story--like being a teacher or translator--but don't believe it. They will observe and report back to their superiors and, as a result, visitors have to be careful with everything they say. I never felt threatened or too worried, but I also never felt safe enough to truly say what I wanted to. Our minders basically had three tasks; to show us around, keep us from talking with the locals, and to prevent us from taking photographs when we weren't supposed to. I'm sure it wasn't too difficult to prevent communication with most groups of American tourists because of the language barrier. The small tour group I randomly joined, however, was mostly made up of missionaries living in Asia who actually spoke some Korean. They knew the rules, however, and spoke only brief greetings to people walking by. Our minders, always at our side, made sure the conversation didn't progress beyond that.

It was very strange. I've never been anywhere where I couldn't communicate in some manner or another with the locals, thereby gaining insight into living conditions and culture that only can be gleamed from first hand experience. Nor have my movements ever been completely controlled; we could only go where they wanted us to go in North Korea and see only what they wanted us to see. We couldn't wander into a neighborhood store or market or anywhere off the carefully choreographed itinerary. In fact, after we pushed too hard one evening to visit somewhere off the itinerary, I was surprised to hear our frustrated guide quote Shakespeare in telling us that it wasn't possible, "It doesn't mean I love Caesar any less, it just means that I love Rome more." Therefore, the most revealing snippets of life were snatched from the windows of our minivan as we drove between sanctioned locations. That's why so many of my photos are at odd angles and blurry; sticking the camera out the window of a moving minivan and shooting a click-and-pray was always a hit or miss ordeal. But even this wasn't easy. Like everything else in North Korea, photography is also carefully controlled. We could take photographs anywhere within the capital--except of soldiers--but once outside the city limits of Pyongyang, we weren't allowed to take any shots unless specifically told it was okay. We often asked and were usually told the same thing. One morning while driving outside of Pyongyang, we stopped at a simple, non-descript building that sold snacks to tourists. I'm not sure why someone wanted to take a photo of this boring structure but our guide turned us down nonetheless. "No you can't," he told us, and then added with a smile, "but of course I don't know why." It actually became a running joke in our group and a telling insight into what life was like in this hyper-paranoid country. "Well of course you can take photos," we'd mimic, "just not here." Our tour group was therefore limited to the state sanctioned, hygienically scrubbed, lifeis-rosy perspective just as the government wanted it to be. As a result, visiting North Korea on a guided tour is like visiting 5th Avenue and assuming the rest of New York is just as swanky. Unfortunately, the following posts in this series are therefore limited in their exposure as a result. Furthermore, I'm following the lead of the North Korean government and exercising some censorship myself. Certain photos and very minor incidents which occurred (and which might seem inconsequential to the reader), could certainly have ramifications for those involved or photographed. I've even chosen not to post any shots of our minders, both of whom were basically good guys simply doing their jobs. And so, I'm forced to present a somewhat biased look at North Korea--certainly a somewhat biased look is better than no look at all. But don't worry: despite the state's

best attempts to shield us, there are plenty of chinks in the armor and cracks in the smoke and mirrors; North Korea is not the worker's paradise it claims to be and this is painfully obvious no matter how distanced we were from the day-to-day reality of the world's last Hermit Kingdom.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 3: The enigma of Pyongyang by Neil Woodburn Dec 8th 2007 @ 10:00AM I was quite pleased to discover that Pyongyang does not suffer from the typical communist infatuation with soulless concrete and is, instead, a rather pleasant city blessed with wide boulevards, spacious squares, picturesque parks, tree-lined sidewalks, traditional architecture and modern buildings. What truly separates it from other parts of Asia, however, are its many communist accoutrements. Propaganda comes in all shapes and sizes in Pyongyang and it's simply impossible to avoid. The city is flush with politically charged statues, mosaics, posters, and monuments--which will be discussed later--as well as bright red flags festooned with the North Korean hammer, sickle and brush (paying tribute to the worker, peasant and intellectual). Despite the negative association of the hammer and sickle in the Western world, these flags are actually quite festive and lend a welcome splash of color to the city. They're also enjoyably anachronistic, making it seem as though I had traveled back in time to 1950s Moscow all proudly awash in communist red. So, this is what it was like in the Soviet Bloc before the Wall came down and capitalism rushed in with its neon signs, billboards, and McDonald's. I thought at first it would feel like being on a movie set where everything feels slightly fake and manufactured. But the red flags and banners just felt right, like they belonged--this was, after all, the real thing. Gallery: North Korea Banners The Banners of Pyongyang The most pleasant discovery of Pyongyang, however, was that it was not the polluted wasteland of acidic air and soot stained masonry so commonly found in other communist capitals. This struck me the moment I stepped on to the tarmac of the Pyongyang airport. I had flown in from China, one of the most polluted countries on this planet, and was quite taken back by the sudden shock of fresh air when we landed. This

is because the North Korean capital relies mostly on hydroelectric energy instead of the cheaply burning lignite coal more commonly used throughout Eastern Europe. The air is kept even cleaner by the fact that there were almost no cars on the streets-the place was an automotive ghost town. Pyongyang and the rest of North Korea, as it turns out, operates almost entirely on foot and bike power. Pedestrians and bicyclists were everywhere. They weren't bunched up and crowding the sidewalks and street corners, however. Pyongyang is sparsely populated and its mobile citizens were always strung out and scattered with yards of separation between them. It was a lonely, spacious form of transportation indicative of the country itself.

The exception was the always overcrowded city busses. Commuters on street corners throughout the capital waited in very long lines for these busses, lines that were freakishly orderly as though as though anyone who stepped out of place would be punished in some manner or another. Gallery: North Korea Streets This sense of order permeates the city. This is because only the most privileged of North Koreans (i.e. the party faithful) are allowed to live in Pyongyang. This means that all three million of them are constantly on their best behavior for fear of getting kicked off the "island" and banished to some provincial North Korean backwater. This is my theory, at least. And, I don't think it's too far from the truth. This explains why the bus lines are so orderly, the residents are constantly doffed up in their finest suits, there is absolutely no crime, and not a spot of litter to be seen anywhere--although with the dearth of consumer disposables and lack of fast food containers, there really isn't too much to actually litter with. This passion for keeping things clean and orderly even extends to the most remote areas of North Korea where women can be seen sweeping the highway in the middle of nowhere without a village for miles. Of course, being a good socialist means taking care of yourself and your society, so a healthy dose of communist rhetoric coupled with some good old fashioned totalitarian fear has gone a long way in keeping the capital squeaky clean and orderly--albeit cursed with somewhat of a stilted atmosphere.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 4: The architecture of Pyongyang by Neil Woodburn Dec 9th 2007 @ 10:00AM Pyongyang, for the most part, is surprisingly tasteful and impressive without being too ostentatious and grandiose.

This is because Kim Il Sung, like all megalomaniacs, built his capital to showcase the power and sophistication of his regime and to serve as a shining example of Socialism's prowess. Nonetheless, I had still expected a horribly dilapidated city much like the carcass of so many Eastern European towns I had seen shortly after the fall of communism. But I was wrong, for the most part. Yes, such visual horrors certainly existed: Beyond the city center, for example, we could clearly make out the concrete hell of socialism where rows of prefabricated housing blocks were pushed up against each other like tombstones in a graveyard.

But the center of town itself was a pleasant exception to this horrendous architecture. Pyongyang had been leveled during the war and the communist city planners had therefore been presented a tabula rasa on which to build the model socialist city. The result was a proud capital that boasted wide boulevards, tree lined sidewalks, numerous parks, and impressive architecture that could be at home even in Europe. Almost. Pyongyang also has its share of oddball structures and at least one failed skyscraper attempting to be the tallest in the world. Arch of Triumph Pyongyang's Arch of Triumph is taken right out of the pages of Paris, France. Except, of course, it's three meters taller. The 60 meter tall (190 ft) structure was built in 1982 with 10,500 granite blocks and stands as a tribute to the liberation of Korea from the Japanese in 1945. Or, as recounted in my copy of Pyongyang Review, the arch "reflects our people's ardent wish and steadfast resolve to glorify forever the immortal revolutionary exploits of the great leader Comrade Kim Il Sung who embarked on the road to revolution in his early years and led the 20-year long anti-Japanese revolutionary struggle to victory and returned home by accomplishing the cause of national liberation." Such praise is a very typical North Korean manner of exalting Kim Il Sung and inserting his "brilliance" and leadership into every single object--manmade or otherwise--the sun shines upon in North Korea. Gallery: North Korea: The Arch Pyongyang's Arch of TriumphPyongyang's Arch of TriumphPyongyang's Arch of TriumphPyongyang's Arch of TriumphPyongyang's Arch of Triumph Ryugyong Hotel The Ryugyong Hotel is undoubtedly the most flagrant symbol of North Korea's failure as judged by the outside world.

At 330 meters (1,083 ft) tall and 105 floors, this mammoth structure dominates Pyongyang's skyline. Originally scheduled to open in 1989, it would have been the world's tallest hotel at the time and a cultural coup of one-upmanship for the North Korean government. Things didn't go as planned, however. Construction was halted in 1992, leaving Koreawatchers speculating on the many reasons for abandoning such a prestigious project that was heralded in the local press as the architectural equivalent of the second coming of God. Poor quality concrete is the most commonly suspected reason, although funding probably played a major role as well. Experts estimated the project cost $750 million dollars and tragically consumed far too many resources during a time of horrific famine in North Korea. Today, the hotel has become a white elephant which no one, including our guides, would speak about. All references have been stripped from the North Korean mass media, including my copy of Pyongyang Review which features all the other architectural landmarks of the city. Stamps bearing its image have been recalled and even state photographs of the city are now taken in a manner that excludes this monstrous carcass. This 1,000 foot pyramid of concrete simply no longer exists. Gallery: North Korea: The Ryugyong Hotel Pyongyang Metro The Pyongyang Metro is something else that doesn't really exist. Or does it? Every visitor to Pyongyang is given a tour of the metro. But, unlike the Moscow Metro in which tourists could travel at will even during the height of the Cold War, tourists in Pyongyang can only travel between Puhung Station and Yongwang Station-coincidently, the last two stations on the line. No one seems to know why the other stations are off limits but there is plenty of speculation. Some believe that these are the only two stations in the system and that the commuters we saw riding the train were merely there for show. The more likely reason, however, is that the remainder of the network may be broken, or simply shut down to save energy--although this most certainly doesn't impact the rumored secret lines that connect government buildings. The Pyongyang Metro was opened in 1973 and built in the same grandiose style as the Moscow Metro; each station a miniature palace covered in marble, mosaics, statuary, chandeliers, artwork, and, of course, propaganda. According to the 1994 English version of The Pyongyang Metro, North Korea's subway "is not only the traffic means

but also the place for ideological education. Its inside decoration is depicted artistically so as to convey to posterity the glorious revolutionary history and the leadership exploits of the great leader President Kim Il Sung." And, indeed, the two stations we visited were impressively decked out with mosaics that ran the entire length of the tunnel, and included themes that, according to The Pyongyang Metro book "represent the appearance of the country which is prospering day by day and the happiness of the working people who enjoy the equitable and worthwhile creative life to their hearts' content thanks to the popular policy of the Workers' Party of Korea and the Government of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea." Despite living up to their promise of underground museums, the stations were still a little dark and gloomy--something which even Korean elevator music piped in over the Metro's loudspeakers failed to alleviate. This is a serious psychological design flaw considering that the stations--some of the deepest in the world--were also designed to double as bomb shelters. I can't imagine being trapped down there for more than a few hours.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 6: Art and Culture, Pyongyang Style by Neil Woodburn Dec 11th 2007 @ 10:00AM Infiltrating North Korea is a two-week series exploring the world's most reclusive nation and its bizarre, anachronistic way of life. To start reading at the beginning of the series, be sure to click here. Like all communist regimes, the North Korean government considers art, culture, sports and education as integral parts of the socialist upbringing. From pre-1989 East Germany to present day North Korea, socialist leaderships have consistently provided free, highquality education for the arts, as well as inexpensive access to performances and events. I remember spending the equivalent of a nickel to see a superb ballet in St. Petersburg in 1991. Today, North Korea has kept up this tradition despite limited resources and a waning economy. Sports Facilities The country's commitment to sports, for example, can clearly be seen on Chongchun Street where, in the span of less than a mile, one can enjoy almost a dozen separate stadiums for soccer, handball, table tennis, tae kwon-do, weight-lifting, volleyball, basketball and swimming. In addition, the government has also built for its people the enormous Kim Il Sung stadium (100,000 seats), a permanent circus arena of over

70,000 square meters, a futuristic cone-shaped ice rink hall, and the May Day Stadium-one of the largest in the world with seating for 150,000 people.

Gallery: North Korea: Sports Facilities Grand People's Study House

Perhaps the most pleasant building in Pyongyang is the Grand People's Study House, a 30-million volume library and study hall built in 1982 and designed in classic Korean style. We spent more than an hour touring the facilities and learning about the "hightech" system which delivers books to the librarian along an automated track. The stacks aren't accessible and all books must be requested in such a manner--including the few Western ones available such as Huckleberry Finn and select works by Hemingway and Steinbeck. Despite not being able to personally access the books--something actually quite common in Western Europe as well--the Study House was still rather impressive. Its 600 rooms serve as reading areas and lecture halls and naturally, every single one is decorated with portraits of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. The lectures are free and open to anyone. Frankly, it's a great concept in my opinion, like a free university where just anyone can drop in. We poked our heads into a handful of lecture halls but there was only one where I could understand the language spoken: the music appreciation room. In this room students could request CDs and headphones from the librarian and then sit back and listen at one of 30 desks topped with a boombox. What was truly entertaining, however, was the example of western music the instructor proudly played for us: Chim Chim Cheree from Mary Poppins--certainly a classic of western music! Gallery: North Korea: Pyongyang's Study House Mangyongdae Children's Palace

The Children's Palace is a younger person's version of the Study House. But instead of lectures and book reading, the palace serves as a type of after-school activity center where students can take classes in tae kwon-do, ping-pong, calligraphy, needlepoint, painting, computers, and a variety of musical instruments. The building is massive. It has almost 700 rooms, 103,000 square meters of space, and, according to my copy of Pyongyang Review, was built in a semicircular shape "to emphasize the warm embrace of the motherly Party which takes loving care of all students and children."

I had low expectations when told we would tour the facilities, but was pleasantly surprised to discover it was one of the highlights of the trip. Our guide led us from room to room where students either performed for us (see the video at the top of this post) or allowed us to look over their shoulders as they strung beads, embroidered, or performed some other type of hobby. Although I was a bit disappointed to learn that only boys could take computer classes, I was nonetheless blown away by the extraordinary talent we witnessed throughout our tour. I still had to keep in mind, however, that the packed classrooms and perfectly choreographed performances had been carefully arranged for our visit and was just more of the propaganda continually fed to us during our trip. I therefore wondered just how busy this place was on a regular basis-although something tells me it's probably not too different than what we witnessed. The grand finale of our tour was a show in the palace's 2,000-seat theater where the most talented students sang, danced, and played music for us. I'm usually not impressed by such displays--in fact, I'm always disappointed by how woefully terrible young students normally sound at talent shows. But this one was different. Every single student seemed to be a child prodigy who performed way above his or her age, breezing through each performance without a single mistake. The only slightly disturbing thing about the performance was the tightly regulated structure of play. Every guitar player, for example, sat in the same erect position with the same stoic face and played in the same robotic fashion as though rigidly choreographed by the army. There was no spontaneity, individuality, or squeezing more play out of the notes. On the other hand, some of the dancers and soloists certainly exhibited their share of personality and spunk, especially the spry girl featured in the video above. Overall, the afternoon spent in the Children's Palace was a real, unexpected treat. I'm sure it was all just another part of the smoke and mirrors intended to portray North Korea in a positive light--although I could be wrong--but it was entertaining nonetheless and I highly recommend visiting if you get the chance.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 7: The Mass Games by Neil Woodburn Dec 12th 2007 @ 10:00AM Infiltrating North Korea is a two-week series exploring the world's most reclusive nation and its bizarre, anachronistic way of life. To start reading at the beginning of the series, be sure to click here.

My trip to North Korea was only the second time since the Korean War that Americans were allowed into the country. The reason for this rare exception was the Mass Games. The Mass Games is a wild spectacle of dancers and performers that takes place in Pyongyang's 150,000-seat May Day Stadium, one of the largest in the world. While the games can loosely be described as a "Super Bowl half time show on steroids," such an analogy fails to capture even a sliver of the energy and uniqueness that is the Mass Games. For starters, over 100,000 performers participate in the event. This includes some 20,000 students holding up placards with militaristic precision that puts to shame the student section of any American college football stadium. And they're not just flipping cards that spell out simple slogans either. The North Korean students create rich, detailed landscapes and portraits often enriched with flowing animation. Gallery: North Korea: The Mass Games

Although the card show is impressive on its own, the 240,000 square-foot stadium floor is where the real show takes place. This is where thousands of performers tell the story of how, according to the Mass Games program, "the Arirang nation [Korea], once a colonized tragic people, has become the master of their destiny and faces the world as a dignified nation." The result, spread over four acts, combines elements from rhythmic gymnastics, Broadway musicals, and Cirque du Soleil. A rash of brightly-colored costumes and a booming soundtrack enhance the spectacle even further. The most amazing aspect of the whole production, however, is the jaw-dropping, grand scale of thousands of performers working in complete unison, as though a single body. This is, after all, the philosophy behind the Mass Games. Like the socialist system which created this spectacle, the Mass Games emphasize the group over the individual and illustrates how working together for the common good can produce such works of perfection. From a Western perspective, the Mass Games are indeed a microcosm of the North Korean nation where everything is perfectly regulated with no room for error or misinterpretation--a place where the individual is lost to the collective amidst a colorful fantasyland where everything appears perfectly wonderful but nothing is really true. The North Koreans aren't the only ones to implement such propaganda on such a grand scale. Other communist nations did so as well--such as Czechoslovakia's Sokol performances that were held in the world's largest stadium until 1990. Like communism, however, the mass gymnastic movement eventually disappeared from the face of the

earth with the sole exception of North Korea. One day too, it will disappear from Pyongyang as well. This was my one chance to witness a truly endangered performance and I was therefore eager to purchase the best seats I could. In a typically un-socialist move, however, foreigners are charged mind-numbingly higher prices than locals. If you go, be prepared for only two ticket prices: $150 and $300. I opted for the more expensive tickets--the most I've ever paid to see any show--and ended up sitting where Madeline Albright sat when she came to visit. This was the best seat in the house--except for the open area just to my right where Kim Jong Il would have sat had he attended. When the lights finally dimmed and the Mass Games started, it took only a moment to realize I had made the right choice to come so far and spend so much. The show was as spectacular as I had hoped and I sat through its entirety wondering how so many people could be so perfectly synchronized and expertly choreographed. And then I remembered where I was.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 8: The Cult of Kim by Neil Woodburn Dec 13th 2007 @ 10:00AM "Comrad Kim Il Sung is worshipped by the Korean people, not only as the liberator of the Korean nation, but also as the genuine father and teacher who provided them with all rights and benefits which are indistinguishable to independent beings" --Pyongyang Review The cult of Kim permeates North Korea. From the moment we arrived at the Pyongyang airport and were greeted with a large smiling mosaic of Kim Il Sung on the outside of the terminal, there was hardly a moment when the face of either the leader or his son were not staring down on us in one form or another. "The Great Leader Comrade Kim Il Sung will always be with us!" is the most popular of political slogans in the North, and perhaps the most accurate as well. Kim Il Sung was North Korea's first leader following the defeat of the Japanese in World War II. He was trained under the Red Army and handpicked by the Soviets to take control of their newest colony. And he did not disappoint. The new leader quickly whipped the North Koreans into a communist stronghold that actually outpaced South Korea with rebuilding and economic growth in the immediate years following the war.

Gallery: North Korea: The Cult of Kim In the process, Kim established himself as an omnipotent, iron-fisted ruler who tolerated no dissent, exiled opponents and naysayers to concentration camps, and cut off the population from international contact. A pervasive secret police force bolstered by an invasive network of personal informants further ensured that everyone toed the party line. Like all communist leaders worth their salt, Kim patterned himself as the nation's messiah. Through a carefully orchestrated combination of nonstop propaganda, brainwashing, and continuous re-education, North Korea has emerged as the world's largest cult and Kim Il Sung as its glorified leader. Kim is integrated into all aspects of life: children sing praises to him at school and workers honor him with shrines at their factories. Kim's portrait is also hanging in every classroom, train station, public square and on the front of every official building. As if that's not enough, every single North Korean adult is also required to wear a pin of his likeness on their lapel. "Korean people revere him as their father," Pyongyang Review says, "and deem it their duty and their loftiest moral obligation to hold him, the man who fed and led them, high and loyal." Since Kim's death in 1994, his son, Kim Jong Il, has assumed the throne and is now featured prominently in state propaganda standing beside the Great Leader (who has posthumously been promoted to Eternal President) or gloriously leading the nation forward on his own. In what is undoubtedly the only choice North Koreans have had in deciding a leader, they can now pick between their pins of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il to decide which leader they will affix to their lapel. There is simply no escaping the Kims when traveling through North Korea. The above gallery is just a small selection of the never ending flood of statues, mosaics, photographs, and other Kim iconography we encountered during our five days embedded in the world's largest cult.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 9: Worshiping at the Altar of Kim by Neil Woodburn Dec 14th 2007 @ 10:00AM It's impossible to visit North Korea as a tourist without being forced to personally pay respects to the Great Leader oneself. This is always done at the capital's Mansudae Grand Monument where an enormous bronze statue of the Great Leader towers above the city. According to my copy of

Pyongyang Review, the statue was built in 1972 due to the "unanimous desire and aspiration to have the immortal revolutionary exploits of the great leader Comrade Kim Il Sung remembered for all time and to carry forward and consummate the revolutionary cause of Juche [self-reliance] which he initiated." The Grand Monument is one of the holiest places in Pyongyang and our guide appeared a little nervous when we piled out of the minivan. "There are a lot of people here," he told us. "Please don't do anything that would embarrass me." He also asked that we did not take any photographs of the Great Leader which would cut him in half. Only full shots were allowed in order to show the utmost respect.

Before leaving the parking lot, our guide walked us over to a small flower stand where a member of our group was asked to purchase an arrangement. After doing so, we joined a large crowd of North Koreans also bearing flowers, and walked up a slight hill towards the statue and two large monuments which stand on either side of it, one of which commemorates the anti-Japanese struggle while the other chronicles the socialist revolution and includes a large slogan that reads, "Let us drive out U.S. imperialism and reunify the country!" Because of the mass of people paying their respects, we had to wait a moment before a member of our group was allowed to walk the remaining distance and place the flowers at the base of Kim Il Sung. When he returned, we all stood nervously in a line facing the statue. I wasn't about to bow, and I assumed that the others in my group wouldn't as well. Our guide however, had no choice. He bent low to the waist and offered up a very serious bow to the Great Leader. And then, we were free to go. We hung out for a little while and watched as a never ending flow of North Koreans did the same as we had just done; parading up to the statue, offering flowers, and then bowing deeply to Kim Il Sung. For an atheist nation, I never would have expected such religious devotion.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 10: The Followers of Kim by Neil Woodburn Dec 15th 2007 @ 10:00AM Every messiah has a birthplace to which the faithful must make a pilgrimage and pay their respects. North Korea's Bethlehem is Mangyongdae, a suburban park just outside Pyongyang's city center where the Great Leader, Kim Il Sung, was raised in a small, thatched hut. Today, the Kim family home is nicely preserved along with, according to my copy of

Pyongyang Review, "priceless relics associated with the immortal revolutionary exploits of the beloved leader Comrade Kim Il Sung and the brilliant feats performed by his revolutionary family." This includes a misshapen water jug the Kim family purchased at a discounted rate since they were too poor to afford a proper one--a fact proudly pointed out by our guide whose sole job, it seemed, was to ensure that we all understood the austere, humble beginning of the Great Leader. Frankly, the hut and personal trinkets contained within were all rather mundane. What made this stop truly fascinating, however, was the mass of pilgrims lined up to pay a visit. This wasn't a special holiday or even a weekend for that matter. This was just an ordinary day in which thousands of faithful Kim fanatics showed up in their very best clothes and stood in a very long line to pay their respects. Was this just another production staged to impress the foreigners? Surely so many people wouldn't be visiting this historic spot if tourists weren't in town. But I simply didn't know--one never knows in North Korea. Nonetheless, it provided us with a rare opportunity; the visit was one of the few times we were able to get close to actual Pyongyang locals. We had been kept away from them for so long that I felt as though I had stepped out of the car at Wild Animal Safari and was finally able to stand amongst the exotic creatures. And so, I was able to come face to face with the rare North Korean native and photograph them in the their natural habitat, donning traditional garb and bearing the ubiquitous lapel pin of the Great Leader. They seemed friendly enough, but it was tough to gauge their disposition. They'd smile and nod their head if we said hello, but otherwise they simply gazed upon us with stoic faces. North Koreans rarely see foreigners and I can't imagine what must have been going through their propaganda-stuffed heads as they gazed upon us. We were the enemy, the capitalists from abroad about whom they'd been brainwashed since birth. And that's when I suddenly realized that we were the exotic creatures being stared at, not the other way around.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 11: North Korean Style Advertising by Neil Woodburn Dec 16th 2007 @ 10:00AM Billboards are a ubiquitous presence in most any major city. Depending on local ordnances, they may fill the entire side of a building, dominate cityscapes, or simply appear on the roadside in a variety of shapes and sizes. The city of Pyongyang is no exception. The only difference is that there is only one

product being advertised here: communism. Propaganda is the evil step cousin of advertising and the North Koreans embrace it as eagerly as an account executive on Madison Avenue pitching for the Coca Cola business. Although there's certainly nowhere quite like Times Square in Pyongyang, there is hardly a spot in the capital where one is not exposed to a billboard or mural extolling the virtues of communism, North Korea, or either one of the Kims. And just in case someone is blind, a fleet of propaganda vans with speakers mounted atop drive around the city pumping out the latest rhetoric. Naturally, the state controls the mass media as well, jamming incoming foreign transmissions and making it technically impossible to tune into any other broadcast except for the official state one. This, in part, is controlled by producing radios with only a single FM button and absolutely no dial! I had one of these North Korean specialties in my hotel room and sat staring at it for the longest time; it was simply impossible to change the station and it left me feeling completely powerless. Gallery: North Korea: Propaganda In addition, there is no such thing as the internet in North Korea or cell phones. Anyone entering the country had to leave their cell phones with customs officials who kept them locked up and inaccessible for the entirety of our stay. And I certainly didn't get a copy of USA Today under my hotel room door. Surprisingly, being cut off from the outside world was actually somewhat enjoyable for the five days I spent in North Korea. I quite liked the freedom of not being tied to my cell phone and email and relished in the ignorant bliss of not being exposed to troubling international news. This isolationist cocoon where the state controls everything you hear and see, however, would not have been fun for too long. Living an entire life under such conditions would be hell.

There was one brief glimmer of hope, however. One day when driving around the outskirts of Pyongyang we passed a billboard doing what billboards do throughout the rest of the world: selling a product. Someone has managed to erect North Korea's first (and only?) billboard, and as you can see, it's advertising brand new automobiles. And that, folks, is the slippery slope of capitalism.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 12: A North Korean History Lesson about the U.S.S. Pueblo by Neil Woodburn Dec 17th 2007 @ 10:00AM The largest symbol of anti-Americanism in North Korea is undoubtedly the USS Pueblo. Naturally, this is an obligatory stop for all tourist groups. The Pueblo is an American spy ship that was captured just off the coast of North Korea on January 23, 1968. The North Koreans claim the ship was in their territorial waters while the Americans claim it was not. It was fired upon, boarded, and then taken to the port of Wonsan. Today, the spy ship sits moored to the bank of the Taedong River where we visited it one drizzly afternoon. We were met at the gangplank by one of the only English speaking docents we had the entire trip. She was dressed in a conservative uniform and spoke with a very matter-of-fact tone. We followed her onto the ship and into a small room with a handful of chairs and a television. This is where we'd spend the next 20 minutes being indoctrinated by a North Korean video about the Pueblo incident.

The narrator was scathing and never missed the opportunity to add the word "imperialist" after every time he mentioned "American." He told us how the ship was captured in North Korean waters and how the American government continually claimed it was a fishing trawler--something that even I found a little embarrassing when we later toured the ship and its enormous banks of encryption machines and electronic monitoring devices. The video also included black and white clips of the 82 soldiers captured on board. The video made no mention of the torture and beatings they endured while in captivity, however, and focused instead focused on quotes by the sailors claiming they were being treated better than they deserved. We were also told how the crew signed a letter of confession admitting that they were spying on North Korea. The fact that Lloyd Bucher, the Pueblo's commanding officer, underwent a mock execution and was told that his men would be shot one by one until he signed the confession was conveniently left out of the story. In addition, two classic acts of defiance were ignored. When the North Koreans forced Bucher to read his confession on a radio broadcast, he cleverly mispronounced "paen," the Korean word for praise. And so he told the world, "We pee on the North Korean state, we pee on their great leader Kim Il Sung."

Although the North Koreans never realized the pun, they did discover another act of defiance, although too late. It wasn't until propaganda photos taken of the "healthy" crew were released to the world that the North Koreans discovered the true meaning behind so many middle fingers sticking out. Unfortunately, when they did find out, the surviving crew suffered terribly with increased beatings.

North Korea refused to release their captives until the United States apologized. It took 11 months but finally President Johnson acquiesced, much to the glee of our smartlydressed guide who proudly told us that this was the first time the United States had ever apologized to another nation. The narrator of the video rubbed it in even further, mocking Maj. Gen. Gilbert H. Woodward who signed the apology as being too "confused" to even remember to sign the date. Naturally, nothing was mentioned about the United States later disavowing the apology or about the statement Woodward read before signing it; "The paper which I am going to sign was prepared by the North Koreans and is at variance with the above position...but my signature will not and cannot alter the facts. I will sign the document to free the crew and only to free the crew." Walking through the spy ship war trophy after watching the video certainly left a bad taste in my mouth, especially after hearing the narrator's final statement that, "the American imperialists are an aggressor that should be annihilated by force of arms."

Yes, the Americans were spying and yes, the North Koreans caught them, but so much of the story was purposely left out to paint a very one-sided portrait of the affair. It was classic North Korean propaganda and it provided some fascinating insight into the communist government's control, manipulation, and resultant mindset of their population. The only difference from what we experienced during our "education" about the Pueblo is that the North Korean people have no outside source of information to

confirm or deny what the government tells them. Nor, for that matter, will they ever have the chance to learn for themselves about the bizarre submarine incursions their own government has ordered into the South. For more information about the Pueblo, be sure to click here to visit a fascinating website maintained by the former crew.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 13: Kids will be kids by Neil Woodburn Dec 18th 2007 @ 10:00AM

After enduring five days of stoic faced North Koreans held hostage in their Mao suits, it was comforting to discover that children are the same everywhere regardless of political indoctrination. We'd certainly seen plenty of children during our tour of North Korea and nearly all of them were extraordinarily well behaved-much like their parents. But on our final day in Pyongyang as we were heading to the airport, we stopped for a few minutes at Kim Il Sung Square. It was the morning of October 10, and the city was gearing up for the Korean Workers' Party Foundation Day--a national holiday celebrating the creation of the communist party. It was rumored that a massive military parade was scheduled for later in the afternoon-long after the tourists had left. But in the morning, the square was reserved for thousands of unsupervised kids flying kites and playing games. It was extraordinarily refreshing to see them running around and having fun. North Korea had seemed so sad and humorless during our stay and it left me feeling so very depressed. But here, right in front of our eyes, was a mass of childhood innocence not yet tarnished by the state. Sure, you'll notice that many of the children are wearing communist red scarves and even Kim Il Sung pins on their shirts, but the weight of such a horrific dictatorship has not yet settled on their shoulders, thus freeing them from the shackles of socialist adulthood and allowing them to be just like any other happy-golucky child living on planet earth.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 14: Pyongyang Sock Hop by Neil Woodburn Dec 19th 2007 @ 10:00AM

Infiltrating North Korea is a two-week series exploring the world's most reclusive nation and its bizarre, anachronistic way of life. To start reading at the beginning of the series, be sure to click here. Yesterday's video captured the playful, innocent spirit of North Korean kids as they flew kites and ran amuck through Kim Il Sung Square in celebration of the Korean Workers' Party Foundation Day. Today, we take you to another celebration for the same holiday. This one, however, fast forwards to the slightly older age of high school students and their version of a celebratory get-together that is far more organized in scope and thus, far more indicative of the tightly structured North Korean lifestyle we had witnessed throughout our stay in the capital. Although just a few years older than the kids we saw kite flying in the same square, playtime seems to have evolved at the high school level to a choreographed effort where everyone had a role in a much larger production. Sure, perhaps I'm projecting too much of the North Korean regime onto a simple outdoor dance festival, but it's difficult to imagine otherwise; the state simply controls and regulates every aspect of life, even down to the moves at a high school dance. Totalitarian sock hop or otherwise, the production was nonetheless a joy to watch from high atop the Grand Study House where we had just wrapped up a tour. The dance wasn't on the itinerary but we were able stop for a few moments and take it all in. The video also includes close-ups of a large Kim Il Sung mosaic, the Yanggakdo Hotel where we stayed, as well as the 170-meter Tower of the Juche Idea that was constructed with 25,550 stones, each representing a day in the life of Kim Il Sung up to the age of 70 when the tower was unveiled on his birthday.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 15: More song, dance, and a little conundrum about chocolate by Neil Woodburn Dec 20th 2007 @ 10:00AM Since posting last week about the North Korean talent show I attended at the Mangyongdae Children's Palace in Pyongyang, I've received a number of requests asking for more video of these outstanding child performers. And so today, we present a short compilation of some of the best performances from the show.

The above video was shot in the palace's main theater after we toured classroom after classroom of students learning guitar, violin, piano, table tennis, tae kwon do, and a slew of other cultural pursuits; the Mangyongdae Children's Palace in Pyongyang was a regular factory of the fine arts. The culmination of the tour was the palace's 2,000-seat theater where star pupils put on an amazing show for myself and a small cluster of fellow tourists. The rest of the theater was filled with a much larger group of young students dressed up in their Sunday best and giddy with excitement over the foreign guests within their midst. Of course, none of the students sat next to us, but they were just a few rows away, separated by an aisle and a watchful group of minders and teachers. It was shortly after the show ended that I experienced a rather odd moment. I had brought with me a Toblerone chocolate bar from home that I wanted to pass on to one of the students. Naturally, we weren't allowed to do such a thing and so I looked for an opportunity to slip one of them the candy bar when the eagle-eyed minders weren't looking my way. And that's when I started to worry. If any of the adults saw the exchange, the kid I gave it to would get in trouble for accepting something from a foreigner. If any of the other kids saw the exchange, they would get in trouble for not reporting it. That's the way the system worked. During Stalinist times in the Soviet Union, for example, anyone who witnessed or overheard something even slightly prohibited and failed to report it, were just as guilty. People were actually sent to the Gulag for not reporting on their friends, neighbors and family even though they had done nothing wrong themselves. I imagine that North Korea isn't all that different. Sure, no one was going to a labor camp for my Toblerone bar, but there most certainly would have been some type of ramification if anything had occurred other than the student immediately running to the nearest teacher to hand over the contraband. But let's face it, most any kid on this planet is going to take the risk of keeping the candy bar despite the near certainty of getting caught. And then everybody gets in trouble. So what's the harm in a single bar of chocolate, you ask? Plenty. A political system whose whole existence is dependent upon keeping the populace ignorant by believing that the outside world is a far worse place, would have problems explaining how a simple bar of chocolate could be so incomprehensibly better than anything domestically produced. And believe me, it was. I had one piece of North Korean chocolate and nearly gagged.

A single, tiny triangle of Toblerone could be all the catalyst needed to make one start questioning the whole system; "If they lied about the quality of foreign products, what else have they lied to us about?" Revolutions often begin with dissatisfied stomachs and although I had the power to possible start one within the easily won-over taste buds of a music student at the Children's Palace, I chickened out and eventually ended up leaving the chocolate on the pillow in my hotel room where some adult housekeeper better equipped at possibly outsmarting the system might have figured out a way to enjoy the chocolate without getting caught. But, I digress. Be sure to click on the video above to watch the wonderful musical talents of North Korean students who have never tasted the joy of a Toblerone bar.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 16: A Sunday Drive through Pyongyang by Neil Woodburn Dec 21st 2007 @ 10:00AM Travel within North Korea is tightly regulated; tourists pile into minivans and are carted from landmark to landmark without any opportunity to wander about on their own. This was the most frustrating aspect of my time in North Korea. I simply wanted to stop the minivan so I could get out and walk the streets, mingle with the pedestrians, poke my head into local shops, and wander off the beaten path to see for myself what our guides were keeping hidden from us. Instead, I spent most of my time like a dog on a car ride, sticking my head out the window, tongue flapping in the wind as Pyongyang rushed by. Such a method of travel, however, can still reveal quite a bit about North Korea's mysterious capital; I could catch glimpses through the windows of poorly stocked stores, witness locals scrounging for seeds in the grass of city parks, and spy dilapidated buildings in the distance slowly falling apart. My state sponsored guided tour was intended to portray the city in a perfect light but unless they tinted the windows of our minivan, the real Pyongyang was going to shine through on occasions. The video above is a six-minute, narrated car ride through the center of Pyongyang. I began filming shortly after entering the city limits--photography is forbidden outside of Pyongyang--and continued sticking my camera out the window until we arrived at the Grand People's Study House in the center of town. Along the way, we pass a number of landmarks mentioned earlier in these posts, thus providing the opportunity to see how these places are stitched into a larger Pyongyang. The video should also provide a sense of Pyongyang and its scattered pedestrians,

dearth of automobiles, bland storefronts, monumental architecture, ubiquitous propaganda, and immaculately dressed citizenry. Until the time comes when foreigners are allowed to wander the city on their own, 40 mile-per-hour glances such as this one will continue to be the only window we have into this reclusive society.