“A Zero-Star Tour”

In April 2016, I spent three days in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), more commonly known in the west as North Korea.

I know what you’re going to say. 

He must be crazy. 

OK, maybe a little. 

Call it an early mid-life crisis (or call it plain dumb like some of my friends did), I signed up for the Pyongyang Marathon.  Me and 900 other foreigners would take charter flights from Beijing into the hermit kingdom’s mysterious capital city. 

The DPRK’s Air Koryo was universally rated the world’s worst airline.  I know.  How comforting.

When I lived in Japan, I saw DPRK news every day on TV.  A girl from my region in western Japan had been kidnapped (along with about 17 others) one day during a walk on the beach, taken back to Pyongyang, and forced to teach Japanese to North Korean spies.

This was major news in Asia all throughout the 2000’s, but typical of western media, you’ve never heard this story (but you probably know about Ariana Grande’s new tattoo.) 

What will they feed us?  Will we meet Kim Jong Un?  Will somebody get abducted?

The first problem started at the airport.  Since no airline could fly to North Korea, the furthest you could get was to China.  And in order to book a flight to China, you had to either have a visa (if you were staying in China), or a ticket ahead to another country. 

I showed my papers to the D/FW airport gate agent, who had obviously never seen a North Korean visa or plane ticket before.  She called over a South Korean agent and they spent 20 minutes on the phone and internet deciding if I had made these documents in my basement.

In North Korea, they count the years based on when their war hero, Kim Il-Sung (the country’s war hero and “eternal leader”) was born (1912.)  So 2016 was year 104. 

I had to explain this to a second Korean gate agent who arrived, looking confused.  “You’re going to North Korea?”, she asked as she shot me a sideways glare.

“I thought it would be a fun vacation,” I replied.  She didn’t laugh.

After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally allowed into security, raced to my gate, and board the long flight to Beijing. 

***

There are only a handful of tour companies allowed to take foreigners into the DPRK.  Koryo Tours is the most reputable tour operator, and I had signed up for their “Pyongyang Marathon 3-Day Package.”  Two days of sightseeing and one day of running. 

We had a pre-departure orientation meeting where they read us the riot act:

-        Absolutely no movies/photos/magazines from the outside world can be brought in.

-        No taking pictures of military or anything under construction.  It makes the DPRK look poor and undeveloped, and the irony was that the military were the construction workers.

 -        If you take a picture of a statue or painting of the Great Successor (Kim Jong Un) or any of his family members, you cannot cut off any of their bodies in the photo.  It absolutely must be a full and perfect picture.

 -        No GPS devices.

 -        Your hotel rooms will probably be bugged.  Be careful what you say and NEVER, EVER talk about the Kim family.

 And finally, here was the doozy.  They told us that every group would be required to present flowers to a statue of the Kim family and bow.  This really stirred up some members in the room, but after a mini mutiny, it became a teachable moment for us all.

“We are going to one of the most isolated countries in the world.  And in any new country or culture, you are going to experience things that will take you outside of your comfort zone, and probably a few things you won’t agree with.  Regardless of how you personally feel about the Kim family, they are venerated in the DPRK.”

“We are simply asking you to respect their culture.  If you are unable to put on a happy face and go through the motions, you are welcome to stay here in Beijing while the rest of the group goes to Pyongyang.”

We all signed the waivers.

As we lined up to board our flight to Pyongyang, my stomach was in knots.

Would my wife ever forgive me if something happened?  Was there anything innocent in my luggage that would get me in trouble?  What if the USA declared war on North Korea while we were right there in the country?!

As I contemplated all the catastrophic possibilities, our plan began its taxi to the runway.  “In 60 minutes we’d be landing in the middle North Korea.  “Holy _____!”

 

In the next post, I’ll tell you about the in-flight entertainment and the “meal” they served.  And you absolutely won’t believe the first place they took us after we landed…

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