Dear Mr Len!
LEN WILSON
Copyright 2020 by Len Wilson.
Library of Congress Control Number: | 2020918051 |
ISBN: | Hardcover | 978-1-5434-9656-7 |
Softcover | 978-1-5434-9655-0 |
eBook | 978-1-5434-9654-3 |
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
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Rev. date: 09/24/2020
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CONTENTS
AT HOME WITH LITTLE
ROCKET MAN!
C omrades and friends, we are now entering the airspace of the liberated fatherland, long live Comrade Kim Jong-Un . After hearing that announcement, I knew immediately that the next two weeks in the hermit kingdom would be very rewarding.
I could barely hear the pilot over the din of the engine that made conversation almost impossible. And I certainly couldnt see anything; my view was obscured by large Europeans squeezed into tiny seats. Big bellies and backsides they looked so uncomfortable. I looked up and waited for bags to topple from unsecured baggage racks onto the unsuspecting passengers below. Upon arrival, we folded down our seats and left the aircraft. Ive never done that before!
Its not every day you fly on a 1979 Russian Ilyushin from Beijing to Pyongyang with Koryo Airlines and, believe it or not, this rust bucket actually landed safely. We applauded the pilots skilful manoeuvers. He praised the supreme leader, Comrade Kim Jong-Un (also known as Little Rocket Man) who made this flight a success. I soon learnt that Comrade Kim was at the centre of everything in North Korea.
There were surprisingly few airport formalities. Our passports were checked and then confiscated. Our bags were ignored. We were hastened to join our tour group. Please make haste, said a stressed-out Miss Kim.
Visiting North Korea was possible but only as part of a group. Recently I visited North Korea and spent two weeks sandwiched between Miss Kim and Mr Kim every time we went out. They were our heroic guides and were eager to show us this perfect world, the stuff of dreams.
Travellers are rare with as few as 2000 visitors per year. This made North Korea one of the worlds most isolated and least visited countries on Earth. There would be no visa in your passport no evidence in fact that you ever entered DPRK (Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea). You simply disappeared for a while when visiting China. You went to the Great Wall should anybody ask!
We had been told that our cell phones would be confiscated upon arrival and returned when we departed. There was to be no contact with the outside world while in DPRK. North Korea was not part of the World Wide Web (www) and the local DPRKww wont get you far! Just tell friends and family that you would call back later, two weeks later!
Our first visit was to Kimsusan Memorial Palace to pay our respects to the embalmed bodies of the great and dear leaders, Little Rocket Mans dad and granddad. What a performance. The Korean bouncers didnt like my jacket not formal enough it had a zipper rather than buttons. This wasnt a time to try to look fashionable. What about my red tie bought especially for the occasion? Tie okay, jacket no good , mumbled a grumpy guard.
But they let me in anyway. Our shoes were washed on a spongy mat before we stepped onto a moving walkway. We were ready to roll. The tension mounted as we slowly moved deeper and deeper into the mausoleum. The exit walkway was crowded with mournful Koreans heads bowed, the men wore identical black suits and had the same haircut. The women wore traditional hanbok dresses. Everyone proudly wore a badge of the Kims. Some were crying. I quickly removed the panda badge Id bought in China and shoved it into my pocket. Phew, that was close! How offensive!
Then the big moment, I stumbled through a machine that airbrushed me and came out the other side smelling like rose petals. Before me, guarded on all four corners by an honour guard, lay the embalmed bodies of the great and dear leaders. Oh my god , I thought as I walked forward to bow on all four sides of the bodies as instructed, they are larger than life . How did they get so big? Maybe it was something to do with the embalming process.
A display in another room reminded us that a star appeared in the sky when baby Kim was born and that he was born on a mountaintop. Did all this nativity nonsense sound familiar? We were told that when Kim Il Sung passed away, the Korean people cried until they ran out of tears. Their tears created rivers and the rivers created lakes. This was perhaps the greatest mourning event on Earth.
I was surprised to find that my hotel room had satellite television: BBC, CNN, Aljazeera, even Fox (or was that fake) news. It had better news coverage than I get in New Zealand and the best part, no ghastly soaps, quiz shows, talkback, or advertising to endure. Im sure the hotel cleaning staff didnt get to share in my access to the outside worlds news services. I searched the room for bugs but found none but a panel did fall from the ceiling when I shouted, Hello, testing one two t hree!
From my window, I had a great view of Pyongyang, a city in total darkness at night but whose residents were favoured with DPRKs best jobs and the highest pay. Just look at global satellite images and youd see what I mean a huge black gap over DPRK. There were no street lights, little traffic, just the occasional old rusted-out bus or military truck creaking by. This was a city that knew how to sleep. I stared from my 13 th -floor window into the dark streets below. There was nothing, empty, not a soul in sight. Now these guys were truly ready for Covid-19.
We werent allowed out anyway. Visitors to DPRK could only leave the hotel with their guides never alone. I tested the system, walked out of the hotel through the gardens, and approached the gate. Two soldiers stepped forward and red-flagged me! I hastened back to my room. The next day my power and water were cut off. I shaved in the dark. That would teach me.
With nothing better to do, I headed to the hotels entertainment centre, two abandoned gambling machines masquerading as a casino, a shop selling ginseng, a gymnasium, and swimming pool (both closed).
I approached a massage parlour only to be stopped at the door. This only for Chinese men, you no Chinese men, you go room NOW . I have heard that the Chinese have set up a brothel for Chinese businessmen doing business in DPRK in the basement of this hotel. We would never know.
At breakfast, a Swiss visitor handed me Anchor butter from New Zealand. So is New Zealand breaking the sanctions? he asked. I handed him the Swiss cheese. Stop it, you two, said Miss Kim, here in DPRK, we import many items from C hina.
Our visit to the 20 metre-tall bronze statues of the great leader Kim Il Sung and his son Kim Jong-Il was very memorable. We visited the statues on the occasion of the great leaders birthday. Miss Kim encouraged group members to purchase Kimjongillia flowers to lay beneath the big toe of Koreas great leader. As you probably guessed, Kim Jong-Il created this flower. Soon there will be Kim Jong Un-ions for visitors to purchase.
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