Face to face with North Korea

 

The DPRK as seen from the muddy banks of the Yalu

The Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK), aka that other Korea, the one that isn't K-Pop and Parasite. I've long held a fascination toward toward the northern half of the Korean peninsula, dating back to my teaching days in Tōkyō 東京 in the 1990's. I recall coming across a flyer from Koryo Tours advertising a trip to North Korea. I was intrigued but, alas, the small print indicated the tour wasn't open to U.S. citizens at that time. Nevertheless, the idea of visiting the Hermit Kingdom was firmly planted in my subconscious, and as the Internet became a fixture of daily life, I would find myself spending time in Pyongyang, Kaesong and Mt. Paektu vicariously through the medium of YouTube videos. In no way have I ever been enamored of life in the socialist paradise; rather, it's the sheer Orwellian nightmare that is the DPRK that has proven an endless source of fascination. 

Although Americans have been allowed to join tours of the DPRK at intermittent intervals over the years since I saw that flyer at ECC in Shibuya 渋谷, any chances I have of seeing the country for myself are as realistic as my becoming an ambassador someday. If entering the State Department in 2012 wasn't enough to pour cold water on any travel plans (for the same reason I can pretty much rule out ever going to Tibet), U.S. citizens are these days not allowed to use American passports to enter North Korea without special dispensations. And let's be realistic - trying to visit the North sometime in the future as a retired diplomat would be a very risky proposition. Even if the travel restrictions were to be lifted, I wouldn't want my golden years to kick off as a prop in a geopolitical crisis.

But all is not lost in the land of oddball opportunity that is the People's Republic of China (PRC). The city of Dandong 丹东 in Liaoning Province 辽宁省 has become both an important trade link between the DPRK and PRC, and a tourist spot for both Chinese and non-Chinese to have a gander at the mysterious land that lies on the opposite bank of the Yalu River. And so on the Friday following the Tomb Sweeping Day 清明节 holiday, my wife awoke to a smoggy morning in Shenyang 沈阳...:

...and joined our friend Tom at Shenyang railway station 沈阳站 to take a high-speed train on a roughly 90-minute-long journey to Dandong:

The AQI app on my phone read 191, but the air looked much more hazardous from the train windows:

Pulling into a brief stop at Benxi 本溪, a center for steel production and coal mining in northeast China, the signs of which were obvious as we pulled into the station:

Following another step, the train eventually arrived at Dandong railway station 丹东站. Leaving the station hall we were greeted by a familiar figure:

Signs of the close proximity of the city to North Korea were everywhere...literally, like this one advertising travel between Dandong and Pyongyang. According to Koryo Tours, the border is still closed due to pandemic-related restrictions, but there are indications at least some of those measures will be lifted in the near future:

If there's one thing that unites the former Communist bloc (both in northeast Asia and in eastern Europe), it's the hideousness of much of its socialist public art and architecture:

Reaching the banks of the Yalu River and my first glimpse of the DPRK. Everything was...quiet:

The Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge. During the time we were on the waterfront, we counted at least seven trucks driving from China to Sinuiju, the North Korean city on the other side of the Yalu River:

Our gracious guide for the day:

We continued southwest along the Chinese side of the river:

The massive Customs building in Sinuiju:

I was surprised by the large number of buildings popping up in Sinuiju. However, none of the structures appear to be completed, and there were absolutely no signs of any activity - just idle cranes and unfinished facades. In fact, except for several people walking up a driveway near the customs building, we couldn't see any North Koreans going about their business:

Passing by a seafood hotpot restaurant called Sun Moon Lake 日月潭, arguably Taiwan's single most overrated tourist site:

Sightseeing boats were doing a brisk trade, but we aren't allowed to go on them. The restrictions come not from the Chinese side but ours, who fear an international incident should a boat lose power and drift into North Korean waters with American diplomats on board:

In front of the Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge is the Broken Bridge 鸭绿江断桥, a relic of the Korean War (it was "accidentally" bombed by the U.S. in 1950). Unfortunately, access wasn't possible this day as the bridge is closed for renovation:

The six prohibitions: 1. Do not get off a boat and try to enter North Korea; 2. Don't throw any objects into North Korea; 3. Don't take photos of any DPRK soldiers or military facilities; 4. Don't verbally or physically provoke any North Koreans; 5. Don't send off any sky lanterns or fly drones into North Korea; and 6. Don't do any other shit that might upset the North Korean comrades:

A statue honoring the "voluntary" Chinese pilots who heroically resisted U.S. aggression during the Korean War:

The plaque briefly describes the air battles that took place in "MIG Alley". During the war 425 United Nations aircraft were either damaged or shot down. In all, 2.4 million so-called Chinese "volunteers" took part in the war, with 180,000-400,000 (estimates vary) being killed, including Mao Zedong's son *Mao Anying 毛岸英. Thanks to the heroic sacrifices of these volunteers, 26 million people in the DPRK now live imprisoned in one of the most miserable societies on earth: 

Eventually we decided to move away from the riverfront and have a look at what is essentially an ordinary, mid-sized Chinese city:

We ended up taking a taxi to the Andong Old Street 安东老街, which may have been a traditional food market at one point but has since been repurposed as a tourist site:

Yalu River Beer, which was pretty weak. I had hoped to pick up a bottle of Taedonggang, a North Korean brew, but stupidly passed on a chance earlier when we were down by the Yalu, as I didn't want to carry a bottle in my backpack for several hours. D'oh:

At least I did seize the opportunity to sample Pyongyang Raengmyong noodles. It was impossible to ascertain the authenticity of the dish in the food hall (and as representatives of the U.S. government we are not allowed to eat at any of the restaurants in Dandong allegedly operated by the Pyongyang authorities lest we violate sanctions put in place as a result of North Korean missile tests), but it was pretty good:

The hall is big enough for a rickshaw puller to take visitors around the building:

Following lunch we took a DiDi to Jinjiang Shan, making the short but strenuous walk uphill to the Jinjiang Pagoda 锦江塔. It shouldn't have been tough, but my heart and weight turned it into a workout:

The pagoda:

The pollution restricted the views, but it was possible to just make out a housing complex in Sinuiju beyond the part of town closer to the Yalu (not that you can see it in this photo):

Dandong was a little bit clearer:

We would soon walk over to the tower in the distance:

This lookout point was called the "Three Jing Cabinet" 三靖阁 in English, but regardless it was closed to visitors:

We walked downhill and returned to the train station, where Shu-E picked up some blueberries and strawberries (Dandong is known for the latter) for our daughter back in Beijing 北京:

Sure, there are adverse health effects, but all that pollution does paint the late afternoon sky gorgeous hues of orange and yellow:

Some of the DPRK-related souvenirs that I picked up in Dandong. I suspect the banknotes and cigarettes are fake, i.e. "made in China", and therefore the RMB I spent will not make it back to Pyongyang:

For research purposes I tried one of the smokes from the pack on the right. It was pretty nasty, even with a filter. Good thing I kicked the habit 22 years ago:

This magnet is now adhered to the refrigerator door at home in Beijing. In addition to the beer, I didn't pick up any lapel pins of the Great Leader, Dear Leader and Marshal Kim Jong Un, but I'm sure the ones I saw being hawked by Chinese vendors were also fake:

And thus concluded my first, and most likely last, up close look at the DPRK. At least Sinuiju gave me a brief window into the totalitarian state, even if that glimpse was from half a mile away, and there was virtually no activity taking place. But who knows? Years ago I wanted to see the Berlin Wall, but the events of November 1989 brought that dream to an end. But any disappointment I may have felt has been far outweighed by the improvements in the lives of the former East Germans. Perhaps some day I can feel that same sense of selfish regret for the residents of North Korea. One can only hope...

*Read this for the interesting connection between Mao's son and fried rice