“1989 Pyongyang, Kim Il Sung City Pieced Together”

[imText1]Within the last ten days of January 1989, we received permission to enter North Korea. We went from Los Angeles to San Francisco and arrived at Beijing. While in Beijing we went over some of the precautions at the North Korean embassy and received our entrance visas. During the entrance procedures there were suspicions because passengers on their way to Pyongyang had too many bundles declared as gifts. It was said that the cargo weight always weighed more than the weight of passengers on flights to Pyongyang.

“Chosun Airlines” (now known as Koryo Airlines) is economizing fuel even during midwinter, and it is to a point where our feet are aching from the cold. The plane is a small and obsolete aircraft that accommodates about 100 people. It went even as far as many seats lacking safety belts.

The cabin announcement stated, “Chosun Airlines is now departing Beijing International Airport for our Pyongyang destination. The travel distance to Pyongyang is approximately 1,000 km, the estimated flight time is about 1 hour and 15 minutes, and we will be flying at an altitude of 900 m. We hope to provide you with a safe and comfortable flight.” Seventy percent of the passengers were the pro-North Korean residents’ league in Japan (Chochongryeon) members. Other passengers were from various places such as Europe and China. It was the first time for the group of 14 Korean-Americans to go.

The 1,000km flight from Beijing to Pyongyang lasted approximately an hour and a half. We landed in Pyongyang Sunan airfield and unpacked at Koryo Hotel. Our weeklong Pyongyang tour started off with a dinner invitation. The Pyongyang tour plans were much like a forced march, in which we had to strictly follow North Korean rules and moves. Although we were prohibited to go out after dinner, it was a condition in which there were no places to go or see.

In the rooms we forced ourselves to sleep after tediously watching propagandizing films about “the great Chief Magistrate and affectionate leader comrade.” We did not have any free time. From day one until the departure date, breakfast and dinner were to be eaten at the same designated table. We ate out for lunch. For the most part bulgogi or dangogi (dog meat) was ordered.

The restaurant menu was not order-based (presently it is individually order-based) so we had to eat what we were given. The portions were inadequate so when I asked for seconds, the service comrade stated that the fixed quantity was 200 g. He then went into the kitchen and did not return. It was evident that there was not enough rice. This was because they distribute just enough food rations for the number of people on each given day. There were no second servings and I felt pitiful, shameful, and embarrassed all at once. Moreover, it was absurd that they were treating me as if I came from a hungry country.

From the hotel room at night we could see a pillar of fire in the east. It sent a shiver down my spine. I asked the hotel concierge what it was and they said it was the “Juche Ideology Tower.” When I asked why it was in flames, the concierge hung up without an answer.

The breakfast meal consisted of two bowls of white rice porridge (200 grams), two fried eggs, and a bit of salted Pollack—there is no way of getting full off of that. There was a lot that lacked. It felt as if we would get hungry again even before we left to sightsee.

Kim Il Sung’s birthplace, from early morning, was packed with people mobilized from collective farms, factories, and model enterprises.
There was an educational practice in North Korea that forcibly instilled the ideas of trusting and unconditionally following the ways of the party. These ideas were instilled in the minds of the naïve people and emphasized more so than the revolutionary mindset. Under the guideposts were beautiful immaculately white marbles the size of an egg. With the temptation to keep one for myself I quietly asked the tour guide if I could take one. The guide flabbergasted said, “You cannot do that!”

We went to see the internationally renowned circus which began at 4pm. Pyongyang has an educational institution for circus that specializes in training and a professional stage for performances. They say that compared to other citizens, they are treated well and live lifestyles that are somewhat well-off. It seemed like a glorified occupation in North Korea because the state train them and treat them as professional artists.

When performances are held, the citizens of Pyongyang are mobilized by districts and they are assigned as audiences. I sat in the middle section, the best seats in the house and delightfully watched the performance applauding. We marveled at the exquisite and breath-taking stunts that could not be witnessed anywhere other than Pyongyang.

Koryo Hotel now has a facility to enjoy a drink and spend some time. However, back in ’89 there was no such facility, so once the sun set the evening was dull.

I could not sleep. I was tossing and turning so I contacted the guide to come out to the basement concession stand (a small scale counter store). In one breath I drank several bottles of Japanese “Giraffe label” beer, and struck up a conversation with the female service comrade. I introduced myself as a Korean-American. There was no response from her at first. She quietly listened and then said, “I know!” I felt sorry for myself. She continued to ask, “Did you eat dinner? Did you sightsee well today? Did you visit the Mangyongdae birthplace?” I did not respond at first and then answered yes to all of her questions. She was bold. No, she was dignified.

A guard stood in front of the elevators on every floor and greeted us each time as if he were verifying us. It felt as if we were on surveillance everywhere.

It would have been nice if we were told about our tour plans prior to leaving, but we were never told. We were just loaded into the car and taken to and from the hotel. Thus, all we had to do was follow as instructed. Pictures could only be taken when allowed, and we were not allowed to approach or make contact with anyone other than the guide or person explaining. And like that the second night of our visit to Pyongyang came to an end.