Kim: It's Really Him

They have a Children's Palace in Pyongyang, the site personally chosen by Kim Jong Il. Or Kim Il Sung. Inside kiddies do things in unison. I'm not convinced as many people need training in the accordian as Pyongyang seems to be doing but if France ever runs out, I would say that North Korean children are pretty good at it.

I disliked the children's palace because there were lots of Chinese tourists wandering around being rude and loud and annoying.

There was a performance in the afternoon and was mostly brightly coloured children dancing and singing. Our guide fell asleep. The Chinese tourists loved it. Around 25 000 visit NK each year, compared to 3500 westerners. At the end the performers lined up and the Chinese rushed to get photos with their favourite one. As they pushed and prodded the children, I noticed their smiles become slightly fixed. Chinese bluntness offends North Koreans as well as South Koreans it seems.

Then to see their Arch of Triumph, which is larger than France's. Medals all around.

Then the Juche Tower. There were soldiers practising being in unison as next year is the 100 year anniversary of Kim Il Sung's birth. The Juche Tower was decorated with plaques of Juche societies from around the world.

That night we had Korean hotpot. I spent a while looking out of the window at a playground where children were messing around after school. Cute.

That evening we went to Yanggakdo Hotel which is a "posh" hotel in Pyongyang. It has a bowling alley which Sara and I used for a bit. It also has the world's saddest turtle existing in a tank a couple of metres cubed.

That morning we forgot the pancake part of our marathonly long breakfast and as we left our lovely waitress hurried after us to remind us but her English wasn't so good so we did not understand and only realised later. Oops.

The next day we went to Kim Il Sung's memorial to stare at his dead body. We had to wear our Sunday best. The Mausoleum is rather large, as it used to be his offices. On arrival we went over a shoe duster and through a large hairdryer. Instead of walking we were conveyed everwhere on escalators and travelators. As well as us there were a handful of tourists and some people from UNESCO as well as Koreans visiting. It took a rather long time, through many corridors and marble lined rooms before we reached one with carvings in it. Here we were handed a recording of someone explaining what it was like when he died. I had heard about this recording beforehand. It was described as "hysterical" and my god it was. There was a man intoning in a shuddering voice about all the lamentations and weeping and how tears were so hot they melted the floor and became fossilized.

Difficult to keep a straight face. In a place where it was quite important not to laugh.

We went into a large hall with a large statue of the guy. Then finally entered the room where he was. While I reckon Mao was a fake I think it was probably him this time. We bowed in three different places and then left and were slowly conveyored out.

I talked to Ri about how it was when he died. She had been at university then and she and her students had noticed something had happened but didn't know what. At first they thought that maybe reunification had happened, revealing what a heart-held dream that is, but that dream quickly dissolved as they found out. She said they thought they were going to die without him and that they couldn't believe he had died- she said that they hadn't thought he was quite as human as that. She then told us what an amazing humble guy he was. He's quite important there.