Saturday, February 8

Flight from New York to Beijing. My mother and I have to stay in China for a few days while waiting for our visa application for entry to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea to be approved.

Tuesday, February 11

After resting in Beijing for about two days, we are granted a visa. We are back at the Beijing Airport. There is a normal check-in line for our flight to Pyongyang, North Korea. This is surprising to me, because I wasn't expecting regular airport procedures, but we check our luggage and book our seats just as if we were going anywhere else.

Ja-Young Kim with her mother in front of the symbolic red flowers grown in honor of Kim Jong Il's birthday.

There is something very different about the passengers, though: Everyone in line around us has 50 or 60 packages each! (I actually counted).

We arrive at our gate and there it is: our flight to Pyongyang via Air Koryo. I see the plane outside and it has the D.P.R.K. flag on its tail. I am very anxious at this point, but it is too late to turn around and run away now, isn't it?

Boarding time. I take a big breath and walk onto the plane. It is very old and very full. Now I'm just scared about our flight being able to make it in one piece!

Takeoff. The flight seems to be fine. About one hour into the flight, an announcement is made: "Our plane has now crossed the Am-nok River." We are now flying over North Korea.

We arrive about 15 minutes later. The plane lands at Pyongyang Airport and I can't believe where I am. After we leave the plane, my mom and I are escorted to a V.I.P. arrivals/customs area. I had no idea we were very important people, but suddenly I become unbelievably nervous. All of this seems to be a bigger deal than I had imagined. We are met by cameras and flowers. We pose for a photo for the newspaper and greet the people who have invited us to this country.

Downstairs, the baggage claim area is a royal mess. Remember how everyone had so many packages? Well, now they are spilling out of the conveyor all at once. Somehow, we find all of our things and attempt to get through the security point. There are no lights in the airport, and the building is not heated, so it is freezing. The security personnel are barking at us, but I don't really understand, because of their dialect.

After the chaotic check-out process is finally completed, we make it outside. A car is waiting for us, and we are greeted by the driver and our guide. They are so friendly. They are also very impressed that I speak Korean, so we get along right from the start. The guide, Mrs. Cho (or, rather, Comrade Cho) is very talkative and excited. She is also extremely intelligent and knowledgeable. I like her already. She is the only person who makes me comfortable here. Even the dialect is growing on me now.

My first observations: very few cars. The sidewalks, streets, and even highways are packed with pedestrians. The cars that are around are all Mercedes, though. I notice how remarkably clean everything is. People are wearing the same things that we wear here in the winter. There are no streetlights or stoplights anywhere. Instead, there are cute policewomen (yes, only young women) directing traffic. They look like little toy soldiers! There are many movie theaters and some shops and restaurants. The nice thing is that there are no huge, brightly-lit neon signs bombarding us, the way those for New York stores do. Instead, the signs are all modest and alike. There are pictures and banners dedicated to Kim Il Sung (father and predecessor of the current ruler) and/or Kim Jong Il (the current leader) everywhere.

Just as I am starting to feel better, we are taken to a plaza where the statue of Kim Il Sung stands. It is almost as tall as the Statue of Liberty! He looks over the entire city of Pyongyang. We are told to bow to this statue. I have to, and I do. The cameras are still with us. It feels even colder now.

Finally, we are taken to our hotel, Koryo Hotel. It is very modern and well-kept. There are two towers, each 45 stories high. As an international hotel, it has great amenities and services. I will definitely visit the massage center later.

Mom and I go to one of the hotel restaurants and they serve us a huge dinner. The food is very good and fresh. It isn't any different from the kind of Korean food we have in Seoul or New York, but it's much less processed and more tasty. The service people are unbelievably kind and efficient. They tell us not to leave food after the meal. This will be a problem, if all the meals are this huge.

I am in my hotel room now, watching TV. There is only one channel, and it is run by the government. There isn't much to see, so I'll just sleep. I am exhausted from being cold and scared all day.

Wednesday, February 12

February 16 is the birthday celebration of Kim Jong Il, which lasts for three days in this country. Because of the events for this day, there are many decorations and Christmas lights being put up. The lights are especially nice, since the streets are not lit at night. The people are so dedicated to him, it's truly amazing.

We take a trip to a flower building--the entire building is filled with these red flowers that are grown in honor of his birthday. Wow! I have never seen anything like it. The amount of red in this place is indescribable. I think I will be seeing red all day now.

I will be able to practice today, which is good, since I haven't in a few days now. I am getting a little nervous about the North Korean piece ... it's not completely memorized. It's only eight minutes long, but it's jam-packed with notes and sounds like Rachmaninoff.

The practice room is in the concert hall, so I take a look at the piano and the hall I will be performing in. It's beautiful. The piano is a Yamaha concert grand and the hall holds about 700 people. The practice room is not as nice: freezing cold (no heat in buildings) and a bad piano.

Thursday, February 13

I have three rehearsals with the orchestra today. The morning rehearsal goes pretty well. They sound truly amazing. The orchestra is made up of only men (except for the harpist), and it is the national orchestra. They are obviously well-trained and their ensemble is perfect. We rehearse the Ravel G Major Concerto, and that has a few glitches in it, but the North Korean piece, Snowstorm on Baek-Doo San Mountain, goes pretty well. I think they need to understand the style of Ravel better, but hopefully that will come with more rehearsing. They seem to be used to playing as a whole unit, but not as comfortable with solo parts. Interesting ... it is clearly indicative of what the group mentality is like here.

The subtleties of French music are foreign to the musicians here, and I am a little concerned about how the audience will respond. The orchestra members don't seem to enjoy the piece at all. Snowstorm, on the other hand, is clearly representative of the style preferred by people here. A lot of it sounds like movie-music; there are long, sad melodies that are drawn out over millions of little notes inside in the piano part, while the orchestra has a slow-moving, beautiful accompaniment. I am told that Western music is indeed practiced and performed here. I have a feeling that by "Western," they don't mean Ravel, though.

Second rehearsal. I play the North Korean piece a little better, but the Ravel is still not together with the orchestra. I am starting to get worried.

Third (and dress) rehearsal. It is way too cold to be rehearsing in my dress. They will only heat the building tomorrow, for the concert. Somehow, I memorized the Snowstorm in time for this. There are about 10 people in the audience--the people who coordinate the concerts. They are here to evaluate us and tell us what we can do better. I had no idea this was going to happen.

I am even more tired than I was yesterday.

Friday, February 14

Some Valentine's Day! I have rehearsal first thing in the morning. The Ravel is much, much better. At least we are together now.

Concert at 5 p.m. The heat has been turned on. The performance goes well, and the audience response exceeds my expectations. I am very relieved.

After the concert, we go to a nice dinner with the conductor, the concertmaster, and other musicians. The restaurant is amazing.

Saturday, February 15

There is a lunch banquet we must attend, which is held at a palace. A 13-course meal is served with many, many drinks. I have to play another concert at 3, though!

3 p.m. concert: Same as yesterday--they love the Ravel! That made me really happy. I feel like I actually said something and had it understood by these people.

Sunday, February 16

Today is the general's birthday; special rice cakes are served at meals and all of the women are wearing hanbok (traditional Korean dress). Actually, they call it choson-ott here, because han is a word that represents the difference between the two Koreas. The North Koreans prefer to continue using the original term choson to describe traditional clothes, the language, and the race of the people. It is actually a very nice and rather poignant reminder that we are all, in fact, people of choson, and that "the Koreas" is a term that came after we were divided into separate countries.

We will go sightseeing today and see the Ju-che Tower. Ju-che is the doctrine of the government here, and the term means self-reliance.

Afterwards, we must go to another lunch banquet. I can't really handle all of this food anymore, but nonetheless, we are served an eight-course meal.

Monday, February 17

Visit to Kim Il Sung's birthplace in a village in the mountains. He grew up in such difficult conditions and rose to unbelievable power. I am in awe of his accomplishments.

Dinner party. They make me give a speech! I am so bad at speeches ... but I just stand up and speak from my heart. I have truly been touched by my encounter with this culture and its people. My experience has been enlightening in the sense that, for the first time in my life, I realized that I could belong here because we are all the same people. Perhaps that sounds foolish or ignorant, but I believe my upbringing has something to do with it. I am what we call Korean-American, or "Generation 1.5." What I watch and read in the U.S. has not portrayed North Korea in its reality yet. I had no idea that the average citizen here would be so kind and untainted by the ways of capitalism. I was always under the impression that everything would be much scarier here, and that I would never have anything to do with these people. What a mistake.

What I learned was that we are all Koreans, or choson people, or whatever we choose to call ourselves, divided by a devastating decision that was made at the end of the Korean War. How many people have had their families and lives torn apart? I can't even begin to imagine what it would have been like to wake up one morning and discover that I could never see my family or friends again. What if my dad went on a business trip and never returned? What if my parents had gone down to the South to secure a home before I could meet them, only to have our lives separated forever? The pain and sadness this must have caused so many Korean families is unbearable even to think about. The consequences of the Korean War have taken a serious toll on the lives of so many innocent people.

As we watch the daily news and witness the tensions develop and shift between North Korea and the United States, we must remember that those people are our family. The decisions of leaders do not have to reflect the views and desires of the people. South Koreans, North Koreans, Korean-Americans, and Korean people all over the world share the same values and traditions--and that is not something that a single line drawn at the 38th Parallel on some map can ever change.

Tuesday, February 18

We are leaving North Korea today. I am a little sad to be leaving these people who have been so kind and welcoming to us. Nevertheless, I am more than relieved when our flight lands on the runway, back at the Beijing Airport. My adventure is over--and now, back to the real world.

Ja-Young Theresa Kim is a master's student in piano.