In the surreal world of North Korean tourism, you can feast on local delicacies served by glamorous comrades, watch an acrobatics show infused with Stalinist humor and climb a storied mountain covered with monuments celebrating the totalitarian Kim clan.
But be back indoors by the midnight curfew–or face fines, questioning by authorities or, well, worse.
That’s life in Mt. Kumgang, the fortified tourist compound where the Hermit Kingdom meets the Magic Kingdom, right down to Disney-esque people in fuzzy bear suits greeting visitors. A window into sealed North Korea since foreign visitors were granted limited access five years ago, Mt. Kumgang is an hour’s drive north of the minefields and missile batteries lining the world’s most heavily militarized border.
Tension is part of the attraction.
“Look, quick! North Korean soldiers!” one excited South Korean yelled to other tourists on a bus after spotting an armed squad marching by. They tripped over one another trying to get a better view.
The over-the-rainbow quality of the place offers a rare, if hyper-controlled, glimpse at life one of the Cold War’s last frontiers.
“You are supposed to relax and have a good time,” said Jang Whan Bin, senior vice president of investor relations at Hyundai Asan Corp., the South Korean company that financed and operates most of the resort. “But this is still North Korea. Things are quite different here.”
On this mountain, about which the Chinese Song Dynasty poet Su Dongpo wrote, “I would have no regrets in my lifetime were I to see Mt. Kumgang just once,” the jagged cliffs and glistening waterfalls take a back seat to homages erected to the Kims.
More than a half-century ago, Kim Il Sung founded the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea–i.e., North Korea. His son, Kim Jong Il, took the helm following the elder Kim’s death in 1994. The son is said to have entered this world on a mountaintop, his birth heralded by lightning bolts and a double rainbow. Recently named “Guardian of Our Planet” by the North Koreans, Kim Jong Il rules through a cult of personality that is alive and well at Mt. Kumgang.
No act of the Kims is too small to be noted on these ancient rocks, now covered with more than 4,000 monuments, etchings and other commemorative inscriptions to the clan. A spot where Kim Il Sung is said to have especially appreciated the view is dutifully marked with a 6-foot stone tablet. Elsewhere a young guard stood by an etching commemorating the exact location where Kim Jong Sook, mother of the younger Kim, once rested her weary bones.
Name that Kim
This is an important landmark, insisted the guard, who watches over foreign visitors and keeps out unauthorized North Koreans. Her eyes went wide when asked about the need for a monument in a place of such natural beauty.
“She was the beloved wife of the Great Leader!” said the fuming guard in her fashionable red jacket with a pin bearing Kim Il Sung’s face. “Don’t you have a father? Isn’t he the absolute ruler of your family? Mustn’t he be obeyed? You must understand, Kim Il Sung is the father of our nation and we are his children. Everything related to him must be celebrated.”
“Including his wife?” she is asked.
“Do not just call her his wife! Use her title!” she demanded.
When met with ignorance that such a title even existed, the guard thundered, “How can you not know her title?” Exasperated, she explained that Kim’s wife must be referred to as “Great Revolutionary General Kim Jong Sook.”
Most of this sprawling tourist complex, including hotel, hot springs and duty-free shops such as Prada and Gucci, is run by Hyundai Asan, which each month brings in about 15,000 people, mostly South Koreans. The North Koreans feared so many foreigners would contaminate the minds of the locals, so the vast majority of employees here are ethnic Koreans shipped in from China.
Rare interaction
But two restaurants employ local staff, and it’s there that foreigners have their best chance to interact with unarmed North Koreans. Waitresses wear 1950s-style heavy makeup and modest attire. One nervous server fled from a table of foreigners every time she was asked a question. In another restaurant, a waitress looked stunned after a foreign guest asked her where one could buy a Kim Il Sung lapel pin like the one she wore.
She tilted her powdered face skyward, raising one arm to cup the pin with her hand.
“This,” she proclaimed, “is not fashion. It cannot be bought in a store.” She went on, “This is a symbol of my love for the great founder of my nation.”
Lest the mountains, lakes and tourist attractions lull you into a false sense of security, officials constantly remind guests that they are surrounded by a military installation that includes a naval base across the port from where a small cruise ship docks each week. Visitors are instructed not to talk to the locals about politics or economics. Two years ago, one South Korean woman merely suggested that her nation, which is 13 times as wealthy as the communist North, had a higher standard of living. She was arrested and held for seven days until Hyundai negotiated her release.
