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We're on our way, a bunch of journos on a special flight to Pyongyang. We have no idea
what we can film when we get there -- so right now the plan is to just film everything.
Welcome to Pyongyang. I have no complaints about the hotel. Its upper floors give me
my first real glimpse of the city lights. And far from being cut off from the rest of
the world, the lines of communication will be wide open.
We've just arrived here in Pyongyang at the hotel. They've decided to install the internet.
So a bunch of guys have been in my room with some cables and a modem, and they said they'd
be back soon. But it's 1:30 in the morning. At dawn I discover that the hotel is on an
island. But I have a date with the man who will be my key to getting off the island and
into the city. Like all the other media, we've been assigned a guide or minder. Ours is Mr Li
from the North Korean foreign ministry.
We're here to cover the 60th anniversary of the end of the Korean War and clearly Mr Li
intends that to be front and centre of our schedule. First stop is a newly built cemetery.
So this is for the soldiers who were killed during the war?
Yeah.
Right.
60 years after the war, there's no denying that the grief is still very real. But for
North Koreans the war isn't over. When I ask this woman about the loss of her husband I
discover how the personal and the political intersect in North Korea.
Our old enemy, the U.S. imperialist invaders, we must drive them out. On the day of reunification,
our respected Commander Marshal Kim Jong-un will be raised high in this square, and to
ensure this day comes, we are determined to do everything possible.
We're quickly finding out the ground rules for our visit. There will be no free styling,
no running off to grab interviews with people in between the official functions. Mr Li has
a plan and next on the list is the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun. For an outsider, the reverence
showed to North Koreas leaders amounts to almost to a cult. Kim Il-sung died in 1994
and yet he is still formally regarded as the president. His body lies here in state along
with his son, the Dear Leader Kim Jong-il.
When our Korean people come to this palace, then they regard that they are near to President
Kim Il-sung and Generalissimo Kim Jong-il and they are talking to them about their daily
life and what they think.
But even in this sacred place, kids are still kids.
What do you like to do after school in your spare time?
Play basketball.
Ah, you like basketball?
Play piano, play swimming.
What kind of work would you like to do when you are older?
A movie star.
Who is your favourite actress?
Oh Mi-run, Oh Mi-run. Her name is Oh Mi-run. Kim Jung-hwa.
As it turns out, Oh MI Ran and Kim Jong-hwa are no young modern-day starlets. They played
gun-toting heroines, whose patriotic credentials were never in question.
How are you? I see you're still alive, haven't been captured, no hard labour camp, no concentration.
It was Ray Ferguson who'd made it possible for me to visit North Korea.
I'm good. This is Edoardo our cameraman.
He's the secretary of the Australia-North Korea Friendship Association and here that
opens a lot of doors.
So where are you people off to today, with us?
We're on this bus, we don't really know where we're going yet. Mr Li is our... Er... Guide.
It turns out that Mr Li has something spectacular planned. The North Koreans haven't staged
this show with just a few hours rehearsal. They call it the Mass Games and even the most
cynical observer would have to agree, it's a triumph of training, athleticism and precision.
As the show gets under way, there's a buzz in the crowd. And then chanting and clapping.
In North Korea, this means just one thing. The arrival of a leader. In this case, the
very-much-alive Kim Jong-un.
It's hard to imagine any Australian politician getting a welcome like this. The games are
a masterpiece of discipline -- over a hundred thousand participants and no-one out of step.
I was hoping to speak to some of them, but that wasn't going to happen. On the way back
to the hotel I wonder if I'll get the chance to see something less stage managed than the
public events.
It's 8:02pm. We were meant to be downstairs at 8:00pm. Very punctual is Mr Li and today's
the big day -- the 27th... Victory day.
Mr Li has asked me to bring him my air tickets for confirmation, but in the rush I have forgotten them.
Yeah no, mobile.
Give me your passport and air ticket.
Our relationship is turning into that of a parent with an unruly child.
I think I left the air ticket upstairs again.
What?
The air ticket is still upstairs -- can you check later?
But on the bus, Mr Li's mood lifts.
You're so funny in the mornings -- you must take your funny pills when you get up.
Only in the mornings?
And after all, this is the day we have all been waiting for. It's one thing to see the
images on television, but there's nothing like front row seats. If this is meant to
impress the world that North Korea has significant military might, it's an impressive piece of
marketing.
You can feel the whole square, the whole square is literally shaking as these guys march past.
It's not just tanks and missiles that are on display, it's the people's apparent love
of their leader that borders on religious zeal.
Do you think everybody is very emotional or do you think some people just pretend? Hard to say?
No, no, you don't use that word, in that case, it's an insult to the Korean people. It's a real feeling.
It's a real feeling?
If he is an actor or actress, then they can do it, they can make up those feelings, those
expressions. But their crying and yelling and their voices -- that is why I am telling
you that those words are totally insulting to the Korean people, so don't use those kinds
of expressions.
Besides the missiles and the emotion what's also real is North Koreas tendency to make
random threats against its traditional enemy -- the US.
This is what's presented to us by the media and unfortunately people believe this.
Ray Ferguson, the man who helped me get into North Korea, thinks the regime gets unfair
treatment from the media. But I wonder whose fault that is.
Do you think they need to be a bit more open about their country?
I think they want to be more open -- I think they desperately want to be more open -- that's
why they're inviting tourists into the country -- not only for openness of course but to
earn some hard currency. But they have been let down too many times by overseas journalists.
As one of those overseas journalists I'm not here to do a hatchet job but North Korea's
reputation as a rogue state isn't helped by the limitations they impose.
You know, we're restricted to Pyongyang, we're restricted to a very tight schedule, we are
carefully managed and you know... there is just not that much information outside that.
But I guess what I can say is that I feel like just the little glimpses I'm getting
of people walking along the street today we saw people on the street after the parade
they were buying ice creams sitting in the shade having a chat -- there are men and women
walking together -- I guess it just makes the place seem a bit more normal.
Day three ends with a dazzling display - this is a city that has so far only shown us its
finest. Heading back to the hotel, I wonder what I'm missing in the shadows. The streets
here are darker than those in other cities, a hint at the power shortages they face. But
there are lights in some apartment windows. What life is taking place beneath them?
Day four gets off to a slow start. Mr Li is missing. The big parade is over and I have
a sneaky suspicion that all the minders are nursing hangovers.
Ah, there's Mr Li. Good morning, or good afternoon should I say.
Ha, sure. Good afternoon.
Any news about whether we can go and interview a family?
Interview a family.
Yeah, an ordinary family.
That obviously isn't going to happen today So with time on my hands, it's a chance for
a wander through the hotel. This is the revolving restaurant. Clearly this is a place not often
visited by ordinary North Koreans. But there are lots of distractions for foreign visitors,
a contrast to what I imagine life is like outside.
Whoa! Casino Pyongyang here I come.
My frustrations with Mr Li due to the restrictions on us falls away over a game of ping pong.
This is Australia versus DPRK. Oh, it's a friendly. Of course it's a friendly.
I discover that Mr Li is married with a young son and that he hopes to come to Australia.
And if I thought there would be an advantage in losing to him, I don't have to try very
hard. He's good.
It's our last morning here and Mr Li has decided that he's going to take us on a personal tour
of Pyongyang. We're breaking away from the other journalists, and yeah, going totally
separately from them, don't know where we are going yet but hopefully we'll get something
interesting.
At last, some freedom from the media pack - just us and Mr Li but I can tell he is worried
that we have departed from the official schedule -- where are we going?
I feel a little a bit nervous but I do like the colour combination going on here.
It turns out to be a skate park. It is an exclusive, a chance to meet ordinary North
Koreans enjoying themselves, but even here Mr Li is nervous about us approaching adults
for interviews. This obviously isn't a place where I'll get a deep insight into the heart
and soul of North Korea, but it is a glimpse of real life, and I have to admit, a bit of
fun.
So on behalf of the Oceania delegation, thank you very much.
It's time to head for home and Ray Ferguson is saying farewell to his hosts in typical
Aussie style.
Medicinal purposes only.
Ray's a regular visitor here, working his own form of diplomacy. It may be some time
before Australia establishes meaningful diplomatic relations with North Korea, but Ray's hopeful.
At least if you're engaging, if you're talking, it always creates a better groundwork, a better
possibility, a better understanding, where those discussions can lead to far better relations
and establish good will between the Australian people and the people of Korea.
Five carefully guided days in Pyongyang have allowed me to put a human face to North Korea.
But it's also given me an insight into the tight control that has maintained the ruling
dynasty for 60 years. And as far as I can judge, that isn't about to change anytime soon.