OK, so I didn’t actually get INTO North Korea, but I got about as close as anyone with an American passport is likely to get without some diplomatic connections or a desire to be shot at. Personally, I’m opposed to being shot at. Shoot near me, away from me, somewhere in the same general vicinity, I can handle on occassion. But being shot at is not for me.

That said, you can get awful close on the river. Sam and I paid 15 RMB (just under $2) each for the speed boat tour. The guy made a few passes and we got closer than I expected. The guards didn’t seem to take notice of us; I suppose they get a handful of these a day, every day, and our twilight cruise was nothing unusual.

“What do you suppose they think of us?” Sam asked above the noise of the outboard motor. Our cramped speed boat was just turning to make another pass. I didn’t have an answer for her. Still don’t.

I imagine we’re not the novelty to them that they are to us. Maybe we represent all they’re supposed to oppose: capitalism, exploitation, consumerism and bad taste. We’re here staring at their country, and paying almost two dollars to do so, because we can, and because we’re fascinated that they can’t come do the same on the Rio Grande or the English Channel.

Heading back to shore, we passed under the two bridges. One spans the river, the other goes halfway and drops into the cold Yalu. American fighter planes strafed the old bridge early in the Korean War, and this is what remains.

That it’s still here is telling. China has rebuilt entire cities in its effort to modernize, and cranes are a regular part of the skyline everywhere in the country, even in this worn out border town, yet the bridge hangs persistently and obviously over the river. China is not a land of subtlety.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 15th, 2006 at 3:38 am and is filed under roadside blogging. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.