(Pyongyang subway) Everyone takes the subway, even KPA soldiers! Or maybe there really is an underground bunker there.
They were the first to greet us at Sinuiju. That is, after the KPA soldiers had inspected our documents, presented by the mainland tour guide. It was a printout of tour passengers, with our passport-size portrait photographs pasted on adjacent to our profiles. The border guard who came onto the Dandong-Sinuiju train cabin only asked for it after seeing my passport cover of a different shade of red, which after glancing through, was satisfied. I wondered if the reason for his increased vigilance was that mainland Chinese were considered less of a security risk, and that I would have normally required a more intensive background check.
(Pyongyang subway) Notice the red pins. I wonder what happens if you forget to put it on in the morning.
Because of this delay, I got off the train last of all, and on the other side of the platform waiting by the Sinuiju-Pyongyang cabin car were two figures, one lady in a yellow hanbok and a man in a white short-sleeved shirt and black trousers. As I approached, I noticed they wore the red great leader pins on their left breasts. They did not, however, wear smiles.
They were the two guides assigned to our tour group. One male, and one female, to better facilitate communication with the varying interests of the passengers. Both spoke Mandarin fluently. The lady interacted mostly with the female tourists, older middle-aged ladies, and so I had few chances to discover who she was. She was pretty in a conventional way, or at least she would have been if she had smiled more.
The male guide, however, I had much more opportunities to chat with. Especially after he escorted roommate and myself back after our attempted escape from Yanggakdo. Complimenting him on his native-level Mandarin, he explained that he had grown up and went to university in China, so I surmised that he was from a highly mobile urban upper class – not the refugees hiding in fear of deportation by the Chinese authorities (and subsequent imprisonment), but those officially sanctioned to live, work, and conduct trade for the state abroad in its most important neighbor.
And then there was someone else, another local guide attached to our tour group. An ‘English-speaker’. He did not speak Mandarin, and could not interact with any of the mainland tourists. Since there were no English-speakers in our group, other than myself and roommate, I can only surmise that he was there because of me, which was initially quite alarming. However, his English language abilities seemed somewhat limited, which I supposed was due to a lack of oral practice with a native speaking partner. Perhaps he was feigning, and listening intently to my every word, or perhaps not.
(Pyongyang) A soft-serve ice cream vendor. Too bad there was only one flavor.
In our first conversation, I discovered that he was about my age and had just graduated from Kim Il Sung University’s mathematics department before starting with the tour agency. I wondered what a member of the elite and a rising cadre in the Workers Party was doing here as my tour guide. Was I paranoid to assume that he was there as my personal minder? Was he just as suspicious of me as I was of him? He seemed like a nice guy. Treated me to an ice cream one time when I was bored to tears by the overpriced-souvenir-shopping component of the tour.
(Arirang Mass Games, Pyongyang) I wonder what was on her playlist. Maybe some Super Junior?
At the Mass Games, I sat pretty close to the guides up front since I wanted a good view of the show, and I noticed that one of the female guides (for the other tour group) was listening to a slim iPod Nano (probably bored since she’d seen the show before). Even I don’t have an iPod Nano! Being a tour guide could be pretty lucrative since it allows travel and regular access to foreigners, and the possibility of hard currency tips and gifts for barter, but I didn’t think it would be that lucrative. I guess even in an egalitarian society some are more equal than others.
Previously on Pyongyang Diaries: Escape from Yanggakdo!
Next time: The People
