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.