In some interesting twist which further proves that you could find a
Filipino in any part of the world, I was not the only one to land in Pyongyang
that day. I already suspected that the two of them were Filipino based on their
looks, except that basing it on looks alone does not really prove anything
given how generic and ambiguous we Southeast Asians look like. My suspicion intensified
when my 20-20 ninja (or stalker) vision found out that one of them was named
Miguel Garcia through his boarding pass. My doubts were laid to rest when I
finally got to talk to them after crossing North Korean immigration.
Miguel Garcia told me that he is Filipino indeed after I tapped
him at the shoulder and asked. He did not, however, expound on what he was
doing there after he negatively answered my question if they were also in a
group tour. His companion seemed to be Fil-Am because he responded to me with
an American accent as I asked him in Tagalog if he was also Pinoy. I did not
really catch his answer quite well, except for some bits about meeting his
father there. The guy that met them on the other side, which I suppose was his
dad after they exchanged some man hugs, told me in Tagalog that Pyongyang is a
safe place and that I should not believe what I hear in the news.
That little gem of advice came at an opportune time because I was
trembling the whole time I was at the airport for no apparent reason. Wait,
scrap that. Of course there was a reason. I think I had been bombarding Koryo
Tours with emails days leading to the actual tour. I have been monitoring the
situation online every hour since the Wednesday before I flew to China. If the
country is technically at war, then I really have no business being there. But
Koryo Tours was firm in reassuring me that everything was normal. Koryo Tours,
I think, is a British company. According to them, as long as the British
Embassy in Pyongyang does not issue out a warning that it is unsafe to go, the
tours proceed as scheduled.
It took us quite a while to finish all the immigration formalities,
neither because immigration counters were lacking nor was there a big crowd of
tourists in there. In fact, there was only one other
flight, originating from Vladivostok, which landed that day. It was
rather because of the nature of the visa. The group
visa was in several sheets of paper containing the passport photos and numbers
of the participants. What was done to speed up the process was for an
immigration official to call out our names one by one, mark us as checked on
the visa, and disperse us to the many free immigration counters waiting for us.
We were divided into two tour buses. One was headed
by Richard, a British guy who has been leading tours in different parts of the
globe for some decades now. If memory serves me right, he has been with Koryo
Tours for six or seven years already. Group A is led by Amanda, who I remember
best for her characteristic dark fringes, and who has also been with Koryo
Tours for a couple of years now. While our tour only consisted two short
nights, I believe none of us would argue if one says that we felt totally safe
with Richard and Amanda. Call it shameless plugging if you might, but those two
would suffice as reasons as to why you should choose Koryo Tours if ever you
decide to visit North Korea. They know what they are doing and their insightful
anecdotes will always leave you wanting more.
The nervousness at the airport started to fade away as we were
treated to our first glimpse of everyday life in Pyongyang. The first area where
we passed by after the airport seemed to be their version of suburbia, where
people in bicycles were as common as pedestrians in the street. A group of
children were rollerblading at an open court. People were tilling rice fields.
We were not yet allowed to take photos at this point, and the reason was
probably the presence of the military. They were not patrolling the area though.
Instead, they were also farming, with their khaki coats off and the sight of
their powder blue shirts flooding the foreground.
Miss Jong, our female tour guide, explained as the bus rolled that
it was common for everyone to till the lands at the start of spring, hence the
presence of the military. Many of them were also visible at construction sites, some young and some not so, doing some manual labor. We were not
permitted to take either their photos or those of the buildings under
renovation. It was only when we arrived at Pyongyang itself, half an hour after
our departure from the airport, that we were allowed to use our cameras. The
restrictions in terms of camera use ended there. After that, asking permission
before snapping a photo would no longer be the norm. In fact, it was the other
way around, with us shooting videos and photos by default and being advised not
to do so only when needed be.
I had more than 200 photos all in all after the trip, and some half
an hour more worth of video clips. It would be interesting to note that we were
only around for two nights. I guess the sheer number is out of the mix of
curiosity and surprise. Kim Il Sung Square was our only stop for the afternoon
owing to the rather lackluster itinerary for the first day. I do not have an
idea if Air Koryo plies the Beijing - Pyongyang route on a daily basis, but
even if they did I would think they only do so once a day.
Arriving late in the afternoon, there really is nothing much left to
see, even when excitement evidently trumped fear during our first day. It was
quite funny imagining all of us running around the square after the tour bus
parked by the river side. As a Filipino saying goes: Parang mga nakawala sa
kural (Like animals freed from confinement). Could you really blame us? I
had been worrying about this trip for weeks and even considered canceling
altogether, but there we were running around on North Korean soil like crazy.
Nevertheless, there were still some
restrictions. On the other side of the street from Kim Il Sung Square is a
traditional Korean building that is said to be some sort of educational
institution, with the portraits of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il emblazoned on
the facade. We were not allowed to cross that street, or the two streets
adjacent to it surrounding the square. Separated from us by those narrow strips
of concrete, the locals curiously stared at us as they waited for their tram.
That stop was short but eventful nonetheless. Not having any clue
regarding the itinerary for the next day, most of us took advantage of the
situation by camwhoring as if it was the last chance we were ever going to get.
The Tower of Juche Idea stood tall on the other side of the river amidst the
fog and was a favorite spot. Locals walking in
a leisurely pace looked at us in different ways; some with curiosity; others
with indifference. Across the street, Kim Il Sung Square doubled as a roller
blade park with kids rolling on those wheels like they were born with it.
Yes, that would be the observation of the day.
The kids of Pyongyang are crazy about roller blades. I had been seeing a kid or
two on wheels on every other block since we left the airport, making it all
seem so effortless. Those kids easily became the center of attention after the
euphoria over taking photos around the square died down. Most of the children
gamely posed for the camera, with several of them even greeting us with a
playful smile and an "안녕하십니까". Although some of the
adults seemed to be the opposite in terms of warm reception, I do not remember
any incident in which they hurriedly ushered their kids away from us when we
started interacting with them.
It was an eye opener indeed. For many years I have envisioned the
people of North Korea to be quite different, robotic, and naive, if the media is
to be asked. As it turns out, they are normal people trying to survive each day
just like you and me. Rather sporty. Just the right kind of curious. Enjoy
having a stroll by the riverside. And crazy for roller blades.
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