Patagonia Part 1: Torres Del Paine

Many friends have been waiting to hear about my Patagonia trip but I have a bad case of laryngitis and thus can’t tell it except in print! Thus I revert to the blog...
My trip down was long but uneventful. I flew American (it was lousy!) to Miami, then Santiago, then Punta Arenas, where I caught a bus to Puerto Natales. Puerto Natales is a sleepy town on the coast, on the Seno de Ultima Esperanza (the Bay of Last Hope).
I spent a night there and then in the morning, boarded a small boat to Parque Bernard O´Higgins. Never did find out who Bernard O´Higgins was! We left at dawn, which due to our distance south was at 9AM!
We rode through some incredible scenery- mountains, sea and 2 big glaciars- the Balmaceda Glaciar and the Serrano Glaciar, where we got off for a hike right to the base.

It was my first taste of the Antarctic Beech forest. The undergrowth is much lusher than I had imagined, but thorny, and there was a veritable elfin forest of mosses, ferns and lichens covering every surface. Wild fuchsia was still in bloom too!


Being autumn here, there were a lot of berries, some of which were much bigger than the plants that produced them.
After lunch at a Posada overlooking the glaciar, we were dressed up in heavy bright orange waterproof gear (ridiculously too large for me!)





There were 6 other passengers on the Zodiac, which ascended the Rio Serrano up into Torres del Paine National Park.

The mountains there reminded me of the Tetons- very craggy and jagged. I had planned to do a hut-to-hut backpacking trip, but since I had a relapse of my North Korean bronchial infection, I abbreviated the plan and stayed at two refugios at either end of the park, and did day hikes instead. Much to my great surprise, the park was very crowded and the refugios, instead of being quiet mountain huts, turned out to be large youth hostels! Who could have guessed that Torres del Paine has become the destination of choice for the 18-25 year old backpacking set?! I ended up sharing rooms with numerous snoring Italians, British, Germans, Indians, Spanish etc etc.
The hiking was great, though the trails were crowded. I went up to the Mirador La Torres, a steep climb, for a view of the famous Torres:



Up the Valle Frances:


And my favorite hike, to the Glaciar Grey:


I hung out with Upland Geese:

Spotted the endemic Austral Parakeet; it was very strange to see parakeets amongst the glaciars!:

The Guanaco was the only common mammal; this one was just behind the refugio Paine Grande:


Lago Pehoe was a beautiful emerald green and had a great view of the mountains known as Los Cuernos (The Horns).

The Andean Condor was easy to spot, since it has a wingspan of more than 10 feet. There were a bunch at the bus stop at Laguna Amarga- waiting for hikers to die, no doubt!


Eager to leave the crowds behind, I said goodbye to this beautiful park, and headed back to Punta Arenas to board the Via Australis for the boat trip to Ushuaia, Argentina.

The New York Philharmonic Plays Pyongyang

When the idea was first broached last October of a New York Philharmonic concert in Pyongyang, I didn’t know what to think. I am a violist, not an international affairs student, and I, like many Americans, knew very little about North Korea. I knew, of course, that it had been named as a member of George Bush’s oft-ridiculed “Axis Of Evil”. I knew that it was perceived in the west as a nuclear threat. I knew that its ruler, Kim Jong-Il, was an unpredictable and dangerous despot. But beyond those basics, I had never given it much thought. That was soon to change.
As plans evolved and the prospect of a trip to the Hermit Kingdom became more real, I decided to educate myself about this little-known place. I was not the only Philharmonic member to do so. YouTube documentaries began to circulate. Books were ordered. Discussions began in earnest. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know.
Among the facts I learned: North Korea has one of the worst human rights records in modern times. There are huge punitive labor camps in the north where hundreds of thousands of people are imprisoned, including whole extended families. Recent UN reports indicate that 12% of the people are starving, while scarce resources are siphoned off for the military and the elite. Most aid agencies have left North Korea after having been denied access to those in need. Public executions are on the rise. There is no freedom of expression or freedom to travel, even within the country. There is no freedom of the press. Cellphones are illegal, as are international phone calls. There is no internet. Food is strictly rationed according to perceived loyalty to the regime. Electricity and heat are in short supply. Few come, and even fewer leave.
These facts alone provoked many difficult questions about our visit. Were we being used as pawns in a propaganda game? Would our visit serve to lend credence to Kim Jong-Il, or, as argued by the State Department, would it help to crack the door to eventual regime change? Would we merely be entertaining the elite, or would we be agents of change? Who would be able to hear the concert? Is it unethical to spend money and resources on a concert when people were starving? Could I morally attend a banquet provided by the very government that denies adequate rice to its citizens? Should we, as musicians, try to use the opportunity to make political statements? What if Kim Jong-Il attended the concert? Would we have to stand to honor him?
These and many other questions swirled in our heads and were hotly debated both in public and private. Some were answered, but we may never have answers to others. Even after the event, the debate continues both among the musicians and in the press.
In the end, the decision to go was not in the hands of the musicians. I was by this time fascinated to see this place I had read so much about, and I became determined to see and learn as much as I could in my attempt to understand this deeply enigmatic nation.
The trip only fueled my curiosity; even now I am actively searching out new sources of information.
The following account, in 3 parts, is an illustrated journal of my too brief but fascinating experience: A Violist in the DPRK.
If after reading this you are interested in seeing more photos of our tour, please check out my Flickr page:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/13338199@N08
The concert itself is available for viewing at nyphil.org and at pbs.org.
If you are interested in reading more about North Korea, I highly recommend "Pyongyang: A Journey in North Korea", by Guy DeLisle. It is a highly entertaining and accurate graphic account of his stay in Pyongyang. I also recommend "Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader", by Bradley K. Martin. It is the definitive study of the DPRK; an imposing tome, but very readable and fascinating. Another interesting book is "North of the DMZ: Essays on Daily Life in North Korea" by Andrei Lankov, a lecturer on Korean History at Australian National University. He lived in Pyongyang as a student in the 1980s.
For video resources, I recommend the National Geographic documentary " Inside North Korea", and the current series on vbs.tv, "The Vice Guide to North Korea". There are also numerous documentaries on YouTube.com, including an excellent Dutch film called "Welcome to North Korea.
Enjoy!
Dawn

A Violist in the DPRK Part One

THE NEW YORK PHILHARMONIC IN NORTH KOREA: ONE MUSICIAN’S EXPERIENCE

We arrived for a brief stay in Beijing before heading to our chartered Asiana flight to North Korea. For many decades, China and the Soviet Union were the only allies of North Korea. Since the collapse of the USSR, China has become the DPRK's sole friend. It is hard to see how North Korea's isolation can continue for long though, once you see the changes that have been wrought in China over the last decade. Since our first visit there in 1993, Beijing has transformed from being a second world city with poor infrastructure and an unwelcoming atmosphere to a modern Hong Kong-like commercial center, complete with traffic problems, American chain restaurants and glitzy stores. The ubiquitous bicycles of previous trips were nearly completely gone. The only hint of its still communist regime was a sign on each floor of our beautiful modern hotel that “This is not a secure area. Please do not read or discuss sensitive materials”, and the large familiar portrait of Mao in Tiananmen Square. We were met upon arrival by a press crew of more than 80 reporters, cameramen and photographers, and anyone who was bold enough to sit down in the lobby was descended upon for multiple interviews!

The following morning we were briefed by a high level diplomat stationed in Pyongyang. She gave us a pretty good idea of what was to come when she said that she was jealous that we would have heat, hot water and electricity all at the same time! She also gave us what was probably the most useful advice of our visit: since our government-approved interpreters would most likely be the only North Koreans we would encounter, we should attempt to talk to them about our lives. She told us a little about the lives and some general characteristics of the North Korean people. They have great senses of humor and love to joke. They lead highly regimented lives, and have assigned tasks from morning to night. They are unfamiliar with the concept of leisure time, and live in the moment, since they can be re-assigned to new jobs or provinces with as little as two days notice. She said that she had given her staff 4 days off for a holiday, but they were so uncomfortable with the notion that they begged her for scheduled activities! She also said that every time anyone made a mistake that they would come to her to confess and ask for their punishment. They don’t like surprises and don’t deal well with the unexpected. Their primary interest would be in trying to keep everyone with the official group and itinerary- not a small task with 250 New Yorkers! Later we learned that all of our “minders’ would have to undergo debriefing and re-education after our visit to purge them of any heretical influences.

Asiana, a South Korea-based airline, was kind enough to donate our charter flights both in and out of Pyongyang, in exchange for an added concert in Seoul. There are regularly scheduled flights into North Korea from Beijing, but they are on old run-down Soviet jets, neither big enough nor safe enough for our needs. The press took the same flight, so it was a madhouse of orchestra, staff, patrons, guests and press.

We had received permission for a highly unorthodox route directly from Beijing, flying over what is normally a no-fly zone. We were just hoping that the anti-aircraft gunners on the ground had gotten the memo!! All cellphones were collected into ziploc bags on the flight and surrendered to officials upon arrival, as cellphones are not permitted. We were allowed to keep our computers although there was no internet access and most surprisingly, no restrictions were put on photography.

We were all eager to see our first glimpses of North Korea from the plane windows. It was bad weather, and thus difficult to see, but the countryside appeared mountainous and a few villages could be spotted. After a short flight, we landed at the Pyongyang airport. We could see the large delegation awaiting us outside, including an advance team from the Philharmonic, press, many identically dressed officials, and a cadre of at least a hundred men and women who were to accompany us for our entire stay; our “minders”. The airport itself looked fairly small from the tarmac, and had a large centrally placed picture of Kim Il-Sung and “Pyongyang” in slightly crooked large red letters. We were not to see the inside of the airport however, as we were treated as VIPS and all formalities were discharged right there on the tarmac. We all struggled with the very unorthodox customs form on the plane: it required one to declare all “killing devices, “exciters”, “artistic works” and “all published materials”, but the officials simply removed them from our passports upon arrival and crumpled them; not the normal procedure, I’m sure!



Despite the stated prohibition on pictures at the airport, hundreds of pictures were taken, and nobody seemed to object. After a long series of official “class” photos, we were loaded onto buses (brought from South Korea for our use) to be driven to the Yanggakdo Hotel.







The drive from the airport to Pyongyang was our only real chance to see anything of the countryside. We could see cultivated fields, small flocks of chickens, a few cows, and there were many groups of men, 4-6 at a time, standing by the side of the road and watching us. There was speculation that perhaps these were plainsclothed guards of some kind, or maybe just curiosity-seekers.



Both civilians and army personnel that we saw were traveling either on foot or by bicycle. Bicycling is relatively new in Pyongyang, as bicycles were inexplicably banned there before 1992. There were very few cars during our entire stay, however there were long lines for the tram service.





When we arrived at the outskirts of the city, we began to see more people, again almost all on foot. Most were dressed in drab colors, and studiously avoided looking at us: not an easy task, since we were traveling in a caravan with a police escort. The buildings were in a drab Soviet block style, and except for a few of the monuments everything was very shabby and run-down. Most of the storefronts were obviously vacant.





The view from my room. The largest structure is a pyramid-shaped 150 story building, which was originally designed to be a hotel but was abandoned some 20 years ago. There is still a crane dangling from the top, and our minders evaded all questions about its future.
Pictures of Kim Il-Sung, “ Great Leader”, and Kim Jong-Il, “Dear Leader” are ubiquitous, as are banners with slogans and propaganda posters. Kim Il Sung is still the President of the DPRK, despite his death 14 years ago. His son Kim Jong-Il, the current leader, is deified by the populace, who think of him as their father. Children are sent to special kindergartens at age 3 to begin the indoctrination process, which continues throughout their lives.

We later learned that this route was especially chosen to only show us the “best” sights of Pyongyang. I had read extensively beforehand, and learned that residence in Pyongyang is reserved only for the upper classes: government officials, business people and the like. No handicapped people or elderly are allowed to live in the capital. Noone is allowed to travel outside their provinces without permission. This makes the general dilapidation all the more upsetting, given the implications of what it must be like outside of the capital. We had been told that most of the anti-US posters had been removed before our arrival, but we passed this one every day! The text reads "All those who crush our pride will be demolished wherever they are, until the very end!"

Pyongyang is full of very wide boulevards, with little to no traffic. The only transportation we saw was very ramshackle old electric trams dating from the 1970s, which were crammed with people.

Just about every block though had a circle painted in the center of the road, inhabited by traffic policewomen immaculately made up and dressed in baby blue uniforms. Every few seconds they robotically move their heads from right to center to left and back, and then spin around and do exactly the same thing again. Only one problem: NO TRAFFIC!!! These women directing non-existent cars were our first glimpse of the completely surreal world of North Korea.

A VIOLIST IN THE DPRK_ PART 2

Our first stop was the hotel, the Yanggakdo International. The hotel, one of three for foreigners in Pyongyang, was on an island, which certainly made it more difficult to sneak out for a walk undetected!

We were the only occupants of the huge hotel, and only the floors assigned to us were lit or heated. I was assigned to a drab room with two single beds, a basic bathroom, and a window overlooking the river.

Since oil and electricity are in short supply, our management had made heat a condition of our visit, and my room certainly was heated: to 80 degrees! We later learned that the residents of Pyongyang had been deprived of most electricity and heat for over a month prior to our arrival so that there would be enough left for us. Even the trees along our route were decorated with lights and the important monuments were lit at night, all so that we would be impressed with how great a country the DPRK really is!

My room was decorated with a calendar opened to commemorate Kim Jung Il’s birthday in February. The North Korean calendar dates the year from the birth year of Kim Il Sung, so instead of 2008, it is Juche Year 96. When I turned on the TV I found the Kim Il Sung 24/7 channel, which broadcasts old newsreel with passionate narration all day long.

Since we had only 40 minutes until departing for a dance performance (“strongly recommended”) at the Culture Palace, I spent only a few minutes in my over-heated room before returning to the lobby. The elevators were a bit scary- they never lined up quite right with the floors, and stopped on random floors for no apparent reason. The doors would open on unoccupied floors, to provide a glimpse of the spooky unlit hallways. The lobby was garish. It was decorated with an enormous mural of Mt. Paektu, the alleged birthplace of Kim Il Sung, and by an aquarium much too small for its poor sole resident, an enormous Green Sea Turtle, an endangered species.

The show, a private performance for us, was spectacular. There was a live orchestra of mixed Western and Korean instruments.

We were not able to go down to greet them, which turned out to be a harbinger of things to come. The dancers were great and the costumes were gorgeous. The music was in a kind of hokey Hollywood-esque style, based on Korean tunes. Both dance and music were superficial, but extremely well-executed. Only the last piece had an overtly political program which described the Korean triumph over the Japanese, although there was a lot of socialist-realist imagery throughout.

Ah, the happy peasants reaping the wheat!!

After the performance we were driven to a large banquet hall, where we were served a 19 course banquet, including ginseng liquor (pictured above), fish in aspic, fresh salmon, lamb, pheasant ball soup, cake, ice cream and much more. Maestro Maazel and the Minister of Culture were in attendance, though clearly not enjoying themselves much.

Although we were very hungry by this time, it was nonetheless difficult to take in the spectacle of so much food in a country where millions of people are starving and aid agencies have been evicted from the countryside. All of our meals were an extravagant waste of resources; any one of them could have fed thousands of people. The breakfast buffet the next morning was also completely over the top, with ice sculptures and brand new commercial espresso makers. Obviously our hosts were doing everything they could to impress us. The dilemma of whether it was ethical to feel grateful for the hospitality we were shown during our visit became a common source of discussion among the orchestra members. I personally found it hard to accept gratefully hospitality that came at such a high price.

Nonetheless, this was our first opportunity to get to know our minders, including Cha, pictured below with Hae Young Ham, a NYP violinist whose parents were born in Pyongyang but fled during the Korean War.

We had assigned tables, and mine had 3 musicians, a cameraman, and 3 minders. They all spoke beautiful English, but none had ever conversed with an actual English speaker before. They had learned entirely from tapes, which as any foreign language student knows, is a very difficult way to learn. We talked about their children, their wives, and their jobs outside of translating. One didn’t like his wife’s cooking. Another’s wife worked in a medical lab researching HIV, though when I asked him if there was any HIV in North Korea, he immediately denied it.

We talked about the performance we had seen, and were told that the “Dear Leader” himself had choreographed one of the dances, which was why it was so beautiful. That stopped conversation for a moment! Other colleagues at other tables had similar discussions, and my friend Lyn was told, “ You are supposed to be my enemy, but I feel as if you’re my sister”. Another colleague was grilled aggressively about what he knew about the great accomplishments of the “Dear Leader”. Yet another was slipped a note asking her to send DVDs and CDs. Everyone had a different and interesting experience, except for those whose minders turned out not to know any English after all! It was rough going in some cases, but human connections were made.

During the drive back to the hotel, the poor living conditions became obvious. We could see into the apartments along the way. Each had gray walls, a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, and, as decreed by the government, twin portraits of the Dear and Great Leaders hanging on the wall as the sole decor. In addition, though we couldn’t see it, every North Korean home has a radio permanently installed with the official channel playing during all waking hours. They can turn it down, but not off. Upon returning to my room, I looked out the window to see that other than the route we had just traveled, the city was almost entirely dark.

I spent a restless night in my oppressive room, grabbed a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee and then we were driven to the East Pyongyang Grand Theater for our dress rehearsal. The original idea was that the rehearsal would be open to music students and professional musicians, and that at the end a presentation of supplies (strings, reeds, sheet music etc) would be made to the conservatory. We would then mingle with the students after the presentation.
We were to rehearse in full dress, since the camera crew would be taping. Before our arrival, the North Korean crew had built a wooden shell for the stage to improve the sound- a feat which they accomplished in a mere 15 days, and was so well-done that it appeared to be part of the original theater.

In reality, the audience consisted of 1200 carefully chosen Pyongyang residents, and there were very few students there. They obviously were under the impression that it was a concert, and who could blame them? The audience began to leave immediately when the rehearsal/concert was over. After a good deal of confusion, the presentation was eventually made to 4 students selected for the occasion, and who were afraid to smile, look at us, or speak.

After the rehearsal we returned to the hotel for a brief rest. A few friends and I used the time to go for a brief walk. One colleague had attempted early in the morning to go for a jog, and had been turned around at the hotel gate by 2 guards with machine guns, so we only walked on the entry road.

There was a woman walking behind us (not the woman in the picture- that's Betsy!), and after a few minutes we suspected that she was following us. Sure enough, when we turned around so did she, and I swear I saw her duck into the bushes just like an old 1940s spy movie!

Then we were loaded on the bus again for “sightseeing”, which turned out to be a visit to the Central Korean History Museum, where we were urged to bow to a statue of the Great Leader (we didn’t).

We were shown various Stone Age artifacts, and taken around a gallery of photos and paintings of the “Dear Leader”.

There was not time for what might have been really interesting- an account from their viewpoint of recent history! Interestingly, both the press and the patrons were taken for a more substantive tour of the sights and to the Korean War Museum, which celebrates the Korean victory over the US Imperialists, and depicts US atrocities against Korean civilians.