(Authors note: The DPRK’s government brutally represses its people and governs over a system that will change or break. My attempts at humor are meant to help tell the story. I have a profound respect for the plight of North Koreans, all of whom treated me nicely.)

PYONGYANG, NORTH KOREA—“If any of you American imperialists get out of line I’m gonna kick your ass.”
This hospital greeting by our North Korean tour guide—the first words uttered on the tour bus after landing in Pyongyang—added to the ever-increasing feeling that we’d gone through the rabbit hole to the other side of the looking glass. We definitely weren’t in Kansas anymore.

Welcome to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) also known as North Korea.

Actually our tour guide, Mr. Lee, was being ironic with his kick–ass greeting. He had learned some American slang on previous tours and wanted us to know he was a gangsta’ comrade. We happily taught him more. By the end of the four-day tour his repertoire included a promise to “beat us like red-headed step-children,” and we all beamed like proud parents when on the last day he said that he would greet the next group with, “if you imperialists get out of line, I’m gonna bust a cap in your ass.” They grow up so fast!

Besides corrupting comrade Lee, we were touring the DPRK, as tourists, and attending a performance of “The Mass Games,” a spectacular political pageant celebrating the DPRK and its leaders, which is also known as Arirang. A cast of 100,000 performs dances and elaborate gymnastics. An entire side of a stadium is devoted to what can only be described as a human digital picture, with each person and their sign representing one pixel. Tens of thousands of comrades, holding what looks like a book of poster paper, manipulate their miniscule part of the image to create hundreds of different, synchronized images. Zhang Yi Mou, who directed the Beijing Olympic Opening Ceremony said of this kind of coordinated spectacle that no one does it better than the North Koreans.

We were lectured on American Imperialism at the “Spy Ship Pueblo”, the USS Pueblo which was captured by the DPRK in 1968 (a huge source of local pride).
We also climbed the Juche Tower, which celebrates the DPRK’s particular brand of communism and saw The Great Leader President Comrade Kim Il Sung (TGLPCKIS or KIS) laid to rest in an immaculate mausoleum.

A handful of tour operators, mostly in China, offer little-known tours to the DPRK. American citizens are only allowed to go during certain times, usually when the Mass Games are held. I joined a group of about 20 seasoned travelers in September 2008 to see the 60th Anniversary edition of the Mass Games.

Despite the fact that our mobile phones had to remain at the airport, and there would be no internet access, I imagined a Facebook status update.

FB: [S’up ya’ll? I’m in Pyong-friggin-yang!]

We drove into the city, toward the hotel, passing huge socialist-realist monuments. There were very few cars, as most people were walking. And most wore military uniforms (North Korea has the fourth largest standing army in the world). At big intersections, instead of traffic lights, a lovely Korean woman in a white outfit stands in a white circle and directs traffic. It is said that only very pretty women are selected for this job and from what I could see of this comely comrade it was true.

We checked in to the Yanggakdo Hotel, a towering structure located on a small island in the middle of the Taedong River, which we later called “guailo island” (guailo = gringo). The rooms were decent, it had a pub in the lobby and a bowling alley and casino in the basement. The food in the hotel restaurant, and in fact on the whole trip, was pretty good and plentiful. In four days, the fat foreigners probably ate close to a month’s ration for the average North Korean, who due to malnutrition, are much thinner and smaller than their southern kinfolk.

Once arriving, the North Korean tour guides re-educated us about the DPRK.
It was founded in 1948 by The Great Leader President Comrade Kim Il Sung (KIS). Technically the US and South Korea are still at war with the DPRK although a truce was signed in 1953 (This January there were reports that the DPRK wanted to negotiate a formal peace treaty with the U.S.).

When KIS passed away in 1994, his son, The Dear Leader General Comrade Kim Jong Il (TDLGCKJI or KJI—you know him from the movie Team America) assumed power, marking the first time the leadership of a communist regime was decided by birthright.

Even though KJI is currently the top dog, it is still very clear by the propaganda that he is second fiddle to his father, KIS.
North Koreans are taught at a very early age to basically worship KJI and KIS. This cult-of-personality deification is reminiscent of Mao worship during China’s Cultural Revolution. In fact, many of my Chinese friends say that going to Pyongyang today is like being in Beijing 50 years ago.

We are told to make sure any photographs we take of images or statues of KIS or KJI include the whole image (ie., don’t “cut off the head” of a statue of the Great Leader in your pic).
The declining health of the “Dear Leader” KJI forces one to speculate about his successor. Not so much who, as much as the adjective. “Spiffy Leader.” “Orgasmic Leader.” “Supercalafragilistic Leader.” Apparently school children have been instructed to start singing songs praising Kim Jong Un, the fourth son, a sure sign that his star is rising. His sobriquet is “Brilliant Leader.” Jolly good.

In addition to Mr. Lee, we had another gruff-looking guide and the lovely Ms. Pak.
We were the first foreigners she’d ever met. In her early 20s, she was cute, polite, small and sweet, like the shy North Korean niece you never had. She wept openly when saying goodbye at the airport, and we vowed to try and smuggle her out of the country, fittingly, in a Hello Kitty backpack.

On the third day I asked her why the current leader was called “Dear Leader ‘General’ Comrade” instead of “Dear Leader ‘President’ Comrade” like his father. She told me that even though KIS was dead, he was president for eternity so no one else would ever have that title.

Then she looked at me with piercing dark eyes, and in a tone so serious and solemn, she said, “I really miss the Great Leader.” And I almost wept.

FB: [We’re coming for you Ms Pak!]

Bill Clinton famously said the demilitarized zone in Panmunjom was the scariest place on earth.
Our bus arrived at the first of several checkpoints, when a thin, mean-looking North Korean Colonel hopped on and proceeded to give the tour (later he was hamming it up in photos with the girls). The North and South each have massive, sturdy buildings on either side of the border, with several long, blue United Nations buildings in between which actually lay across the border. The UN buildings have a conference table which sits on the exact border. Our group, dressed like we were going to Disney, was more worried about sunscreen and staying hydrated than any actual conflict breaking out. There are probably file photos of us taken from the South Korean side of the border, all looking across, slack jawed, joking about what would happen if we ran across the line.
We spent the night at Mount Myohyang where we saw the basketball signed by Michael Jordon that was given to KJI by Madeline Albright. We stayed the night in a hotel on the mountain and sang Karaoke with Mr. Lee that night. Infused with our own leader-worship, as well as snake-head liquor, we changed the words of the Beatles “Let it Be” into “Mr. Lee”

Seeking words of wisdom, Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee. There will be an answer, Mr. Leeeeeee.•

Trevor C. Hale, a Cullman native, is partial to coleslaw from John’s restaurant, but has been known to pack away some kimchi.