Travel
Tuesday, 18 August 2009 11:08
Written by Ned Kelly

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A trip to the DPRK is no idle one. There for only five full days, one is up early and whisked from one attraction to the next. With the rare exception, sites symptomatically seem to be those of veneration to The Great Leader, Kim Il Sung, father of current supremo Kim Jong Il and founder of the nation. He is everywhere: towering over you in 60-meter high bronze statue form; sternly staring down on you from portraits on and in every public building; smiling at you from the pin badges that everybody in the country wears. It is impossible to overstate the reverence in which he is held. Leader of the war of resistance against the Japanese, vanquisher of the mighty US army, his status is that of messiah – his birth in 1914 marks the start of a new era for the country, the year is currently Juche 98 in North Korea. And – don’t kid yourself - these people aren’t faking it for fear of his wrath; he’s been dead for over 15 years (but, as Eternal President, is still officially head of state).

So it was that we were told to shirt-and-tie up for our visit to the big man himself, formaldehyde-preserved, lying in state. Leaving our cameras at check in, we enter the mausoleum that houses his body along a set of long conveyor belts that go deliberately slowly so that one can solemnly gather ones thoughts. It means it takes a while, as the place is of Versailles proportions. Apparently it used to be his offices. He was an ever so ‘umble socialist.

The rooms leading to his waxy body are a surreal sequence. First a huge hall devoid of anything but a giant statue - of Him - at the far end of it. Lit up in kitsch hot pink, you slowly approach it and bow, before moving into a room in which you are handed an mp3 that plays an eulogy that takes exaggeration and obsequiousness on on an epic scale, "On the news of his death thousands of people gathered in this very hall and wept." We are told at one point "When their tears hit the floor they crystallized, where you can still see them today." Erm… I’m not sure but… I can’t seem to make them out… is just me or? Wait, there they are. Just next to the Emperor's new clothes.

One then passes through a mini wind tunnel (quite why, nobody seemed to know, but it is possibly the most exciting moment) before – finally - here he is! Draped in a red flag one approaches him at his feet, bow, walk round to the his left, bow, walk to his head, don’t bow (whatever you do, do not bow), walk to his right, bow. Ceremony over you then enter a room full of museum display cabinets filled with awards, medals and general booty bestowed on him from all four corners of the globe because, well, he was just incredibly great, wasn’t he. Above us are photos of him with all his chums – Fidel, Gaddafi, Ortega – and here’s a diploma from America. “The USA?!” We cry out in bemusement. We are told afterward that if you check the college out it is one of those internet jobbies that anybody can buy online for the bargain price of $99. Was he really that desperate? I like to think so; stories as amusing as that are not to be dismissed lightly.

Fascinating insight into the mind of a nation – and the human psyche itself – it is, but the overdose of obsession quickly starts to grate. Only 24 hours into my visit I’d come to the conclusion that personality cults really aren’t my thing. Admittedly a feeling diplomacy dictated would be best kept to myself. Diplomacy, or self-preservation.

Check out the first installment of The DPRK Files: The Ryugyong Hotel, right here. 

Check out the second installment of The DPRK Files: The DMZ, right here.

Check out the fourth installment of The DPRK Files: Children's Palace, right here. 

Ned Kelly has just returned from the DPRK, watch out for excerpts and extras in the coming weeks from the trip as we build up to the big article in the September issue of That's Shanghai

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