I Left My Heart in the Paws of Kim J: Dandong Part 3

TWELVE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

After what might be the best sleep I have ever gotten, the next morning we headed to the Tiger Mountain Great Wall. The actual wall has been restored and lacks the remote locale and ancient feel of other sections of the wall. However, this area's biggest draw is that its peak looks out onto North Korea. We climbed stair after stair along with busloads of Chinese tourists. Yet we made it up much faster than any of them. I was starting to feel so accomplished...that is until I looked down.

Tiger Mountain rises out of the mist.

I had come prepared to hike, wearing nothing less than my very stylish running shoes. The Chinese women, on the other hand, were wearing sundresses and heels. Not like cute little wedges, but pumps--4 inch heels that would cause me to lose my balance on flat ground. If foot-binding is really a thing of the past, why on earth do these women insist on torturing their feet?

4-inch pumps are OBVIOUSLY a good idea when the stairs look like a sheer cliff.

Well, largely due to what I guess would cause slight (read: EXTREME) discomfort, most of the Chinese turned around after reaching the highest point. Not us. We continued on the path down the other side of the mountain--the side that faced the Yalu River estuary. The trail quickly morphed into an obstacle course, with bad footing and tight squeezes that required all of our attention. We were so focused that we didn't even realize where we were until we were up against a barbed fence. The fence was marked with a sign, proclaiming that this was the National Border of the P.R.C. and the D.P.R.K. Past the fence was the river and the North Korean side's fence. After asking my friends whether the the river could be considered North Korean land (they said yes), I sprinted down towards it and placed my foot in it (really my shoe: I want to go to North Korea, not get some freakish disease from contaminated water. Duh). So my right foot's been to North Korea. Has yours? Didn't think so.

There was a warning sign before this bridge. When something in China is considered dangerous, it's probably LETHAL.

Notice: 1)INTENSE; 2)It's in English. Obviously it's the Americans, not the Chinese, who would want to cross the border.

Requisite artsy shot through barbed wire.

Yeah. That's North Korea. NBD.

I might have stayed there or waded out deeper into the water if I hadn't spotted a small hut a couple hundred meters inland on the North Korean side.

"I just saw two people move in that hut" 魏德 warned.

My first reaction was to ignore him...that is until I remembered a line from my Lonely Planet guidebook: "Close up, the border fence on the DPRK side looks like a less-then-effective barrier, but don't try to test it; a gun-toting soldier may suddenly appear"...Yeah, I think I'll pass on that gun-toting soldier. So I removed my foot and headed back onto the trail.

I spy with my little eye...A SPY!

The trail weaved alongside the river, eventually bringing us back to the parking lot, where we hailed cabs and headed back to Dandong. After lunch and an intense Tesco run (15 hours on a train=breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks), we walked to the buxing jie, Dandong's pedestrian street. The street was filled with people shopping and old Chinese people dancing. Halfway down the street was a zhenzhu naicha--Bubble Tea--stand with literally hundreds of flavors, including Watermelon, Blueberry, Coffee, Peanut Butter, Green Tea, etc... Being the indecisive person I am, it took me forever to decide on a flavor. And obviously I chose the original flavor...it's name is even diyi weidao, #1 flavor.

Buxing Jie: home to bubble tea, elderly Chinese people dancing, and puppies.

Sipping my tea and strolling down the road, my eyes zoomed in on a crate holding 4 balls of fluffy adorableness: PUPPIES! Eyes wide and mouth open I ran over to the dogs and began to blubber about how cute they were. My mind was moving a million miles a minutes, and pretty soon I had my plan all figured out:

I would name the dog Kim J--the obvious choice--and he would sit on my lap for the 15 hour train ride. Then I would hide him in my dorm in Harbin for four weeks. I'm pretty sure my budget for food under the Light Fellowship could cover Kim J and I, so that would be no problem. The no-pets rule at the dorm could be overlooked because I would hide him in my backpack whenever I took him outside. And when he starts to grow, I can transfer him to my massive hiking pack. He would have to be quarantined once we returned to the US, but after that we would live happily ever after in my dorm back at TD...

"BUT..."

With that fatal word, my dreams of happiness were crushed by my so-called friends. But it would be too difficult. But I would get in trouble. But the 15 hour train ride would be impossible. But, but, but, but, but....

(SIGH)

After a long, painful, parting embrace, I kissed Kim J goodbye and walked away, leaving my heart in his adorable little paws.

Kim J: I will always love you.

Though still heartbroken during dinner, I began to feel better when we returned to the waterfront to see the light and fountain show. This was Saturday night and even more people were out along the water, dancing and sending red lanterns up into the sky. Yet, however brighter and louder Dandong was, the North Korean side appeared that much more depressing (well real it didn't appear at all...there were still no lights to be seen).

Later that evening we returned to our wonderful beds and said goodnight.

THREE WONDROUS, RESTFUL HOURS LATER.

Yeah, not quite as nice as 12 hours. But our train was at 6:40AM, so we had to be up to check out at 5:30. We got to the train station and the time to board arrived. The miserable ride to Dandong flashed across my mind and my entire body winced. You know those scenes in horror movies where you see the characters open the door and walk into what's obviously a haunted house, and all you're thinking is, "Don't do it! How could you be so stupid?"...Well that's what my conscience was saying as a sat back down in my yingzuo hardseater.

The ride, though much more tolerable than to Dandong, was still 15 hours. I went through the phases of discomfort, stiffness, cabin fever, delirium, and finally ecstasy when we finally rolled into the Harbin station at 9:30PM.

Overall, the weekend was incredible in every way. I didn't make it into the heart of Pyongyang, but I saw North Korea (and my foot entered the country). All I know is when it comes to Dandong, I'll be back. And until then, don't mind me if I create a DIY North Korean passport stamp.

From North Korea with Love. Kim and I 4eva.

Aggressive American Imperialists and North Korean Fembots: Dandong Part 2

With my friends and new identity--Amelie from Paris--I set off for the Museum to Commemorate the War to Resist American Aggression and Aid Korea (try to say that name 5 times fast). The museum sits atop a large hill on the outskirts of town. The height of the hill is exaggerated by the large monument perched on its top.

The view of Dandong from the Museum.

The monument, a sort of obelisk surrounded by statues of soldiers in action, is a rather blunt reminder that this is, in fact, a war museum. Yet instead of the solemn or even proud faces seen in most American war monuments, these soldiers seemed to glare and scream. One soldier's mouth was wide open, as if screaming while he wound up to hurl a giant rock at some enemy. Another soldier, wearing a Russian-style hat, was hurtling his sword over his head, about to decapitate the soldier below him. His eyes were wide, mouth was open, and he was apparently moving with such momentum that even the flaps on his hat had flown up in the air.

WHY SO SERIOUS?

From the moment we entered the museum until when we left about 75 minutes later, we did not see another non-Chinese person. Most were in large tour groups, but the six of us were able to dart through the groups (obviously not without glares and stares) and managed to make it through most of the museum, largely aided by the English translations on all signs and labels.

"The US imperialists were forced to hold armistice talks, which laid a solid foundation for the victory of the Korean War"--totally objective


Homefront Barbie sits at home eagerly awaiting the return of Korean Ken, the communist Volunteer.

Panoramic war scene of the Korean victory...ummmm...

The English translations, based on my efforts to look at the Chinese signs, were pretty accurate...but that only made them more disconcerting. I'm not so naive that I think American war museums are free from bias, but this took bias to a whole new level. The word American or enemy never stood alone; there was always an accompanying epithet like, "imperialists," "arrogant," or "aggressive." The Americans were an army, while the Chinese were "volunteers" who still managed to "annihilate the arrogant enemy" and win the war.

I'm not an expert, but that's definitely not what I remember from history class.

The thing is, right and wrong aside, it would be tough to walk out of the museum and NOT despise Americans if that was the only story you knew. Hence our new personas. The visitors to the museum were being fed a steady diet of anti-American propaganda, which made me feel like instead of the usual "ooh, foreigners" look, we were really getting the "ooh, arrogant imperialists" look. And it's not a very nice look.

Walking out of the museum, we were all a little quiet and more solemn...that is until 裴佳诗 and石柏峰 eyed the playground of old war planes an bombers. Their eyes lit up and jaws dropped in unison. Both reached for their wallets and sprinted for the field. The various rusty and outdated pieces of equipment kept them occupied for about 45 minutes, at which point we headed back down the hill to the Pingrang gaoli fandian--the Pyongyang Gaoli Restaurant. The Pyongyang restaurant is owned by the North Korean government, or the Dear Leader Kim J himself. The restaurant was easy to spot because of the DPRK flag above its entrance.

A joint venture restaurant brought to you by two countries that don't really believe in capitalism...makes sense, right?

I knew from reading about the restaurant that it was a propaganda attempt, an effort to make North Korea seem more impressive to its Chinese neighbors. So my thought was, if you have one shot to impress a country, you had better go all out, right? I figured there would be light shows, opera singers, million dollar paintings, and 3-star Michelin food. WRONG.

The restaurant was really a small, bare room with a single picture on the wall. The sterile environment was only made worse by the North Korean robots waitresses. These waitresses were all strikingly beautiful, but their faces were totally lacking any sort of emotion. They spoke very little Chinese and even moved in a slightly unnatural, jerky movement. I was half expecting them to be like Dr. Evil's fembots and knock us unconscious with sleeping gas that would come out of their...well you know...

乐然 must feign a smile...OR ELSE!

Frightened by the robots, uncomfortable in the waiting room-esque environment, and overwhelmed by the pricy food, we ordered 2 dishes and agreed to get 包子 elsewhere afterwards. The two dishes were sliced beef and dog meat.

Hold on. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

I'm just as carnivorous as the next person (see my Tiger Attack post), but I draw the line well before dog. When the food came, the general consensus (of which I was not a part) was that the dog was okay...a little chewy, but nothing too special. BLECH.

Dog meat. EWWWW.

We quickly evacuated the room and took a deep breath, out of reach of the North Korean fembots' deadly clutches. We found a small stand for a real dinner of delicious 包子, after which we headed back to the Yalu River. At this point it was dark out...well, except for the park alongside the river. Groups of people danced, red lanterns floated through the sky, the bridge flashed red, green, blue, and orange neon lights, music blasted from speakers, and a light and waterworks show spurted out from the river about 5 yards from the walkway.

The Yalu River Bridge lit up at night.

And Hu Jintao said, "Let there be light!"

What's the occasion? Oh well, you know, it's just another night in China.

I was so distracted by the lights and sounds that it took me a few minutes to realize that there was absolutely NOTHING on the North Korean side. No lights. No sounds. If I hadn't known that there was already land there, I would have guessed that it we were looking out on open ocean.

It really brought a whole new meaning to the Dark Side.

The comparison between the two sides--already pretty striking during the day--is incredible at night, thanks mainly to the spectacle that China throws alongside the river. It's as if China throws it for the North Koreans, but doesn't invite them. More like a tempting and taunting, "Look what we have that you don't." So much for good Chinese-North Korean relations.

Exhausted, we headed back to our incredibly comfortable hotel rooms. It was time to rest and save up strength before we headed to Tiger Mountain for our last full day in Dandong...