As I learned today, ancient Korea originated somewhere in what is today Manchuria, subsequently China. So in that aspect, I’m just gonna count Dandong as part of Korea…
the sound of Korea.
Starting with Dandong in China, landing in an airport, built in pure socialist china. It was quite a shock stepping out of our plane onto the tarmac. What we left was the grand airport from Beijing, Terminal 3, built for the olympics and one of the prides from China today and we get to see this old crummy but awesome airport. We walked from the Air China B737-300 right to the baggage claim… which was made fully out of tiles, a conveyor belt sunken into the floor and in the middle of it were lots of pots with plants of any kind. From there it was right out into the street. That was it.
Dandong is loud… people talking everywhere, honking all over and people on the promenade making music, trying to escape the advertising loudspeakers in central Dandong.
There wasn’t really a difference between night and day. On the shores of Yalu River, you could see right over to North Korea, imagining an international timezone border. It was pitch-dark on the other side with a 300000 soul city being there. Just one light was lit, while Dandong was one great example of light-smog. In the hotel room, the same: noise all over. BTW… every night they’d call up my room to ask: “Lady-massage, yes or no?” Lack of trust let me always say “no”. I must have seemed like someone lonely. I think I am, but that’s another story. Somehow the whole room was trimmed for paid pleasures. The minibar had, among other things, condoms, chinese versions of spanish fly and viagra and see-through lingerie for both women and men… sealed of course. Next time in Dandong, i’ll stay in the crown plaza… a bit outside, but so silent, that you’d just relax.
So, the next day, we went in.
North Korea, DPRK, whatever…
First sound, a whistle from some distant train… and silence. After the formalities at the border, we went through Sinujiu and I managed to take one picture of two despite our speed… it was already late and getting too dark to take pictures while in motion. (I took this picture a year ago, while on the same route as well as the next pictures of Pyongyang.)
Over land, there was that typical sound while standing on a deserted acre, with occasionally a truck passing by or the quiet murmuring of people. As it got dark, there was literally no light everywhere. As if the entire country was ordered to keep lights off because of a strategic blackout, with the difference, that there was no electrical infrastructure anyhow. The only lights were from the few oncoming trucks or from some people with blue-whitish shining LED flashlights.
Arriving in Pyongyang wasn’t any different, except for the buildings with single lit rooms. Many of them had energy saving lamps, some had tungsten light bulbs. But the sounds were just… absent. Cicadas (giant mutant-like crickets making a hell of a lot of noise) at most, our engine roaring but when it died down… nothing. In Caracas, I had always some background noise… but here, it’s only crickets.
And early in the morning, about at 7am… Sirens go off, followed by propaganda style chanting through loudspeakers, mounted all over the city…
So those were some sounds from Korea, all the way from the noise in Dandong, to the sounds of the land, the silence of pyongyang and the sound of crickets, my typing and iTunes, with big brother eavesdropping on every sound of korea. 1:45 am.
Notice: Pictures 4,5 and 6 on this blogpost were taken a year ago. I’ll keep the good stuff coming as soon as I set off with my bike alone in Pyongyang. #anxiety
