An ‘Aggressive American Wolf’ in Dandong
Smiles and laughter … with North Korea next door
DANDONG, Liaoning — The children were North Korean. But their smiles were universal. They really appeared to be enjoying themselves, splashing around in the Yalu River, sitting out in the sun. What kid in the world wouldn’t? It was a beautiful day.
I sat in a boat a couple dozen meters away — North Korea doesn’t like it when foreigners get much closer — and took photos. Now I could show my friends and family back in the States: See, North Koreans smile, too.
They also wave. Waving and smiling, the kids motioned for me to come join them. For what, I had no idea. Was this some kind of a joke?
My boat cruised slowly beside the banks of North Korea and left the waving children in its wake. I and the other tourists on the boat — all Chinese — continued to peer into perhaps the most secretive and isolated country in the world. And, you know what? It looked a lot like rural China. Shouldn’t come as a surprise — China was just 300 meters and one invisible boundary line away.
10.13.2004, 10:25 AM · Liaoning, Stories, The Trip · Comments (13)
Shenyang: The truth flows with the wine
The story the government didn’t want to be told
SHENYANG, Liaoning — I expected Mr. Shi to be waiting for me at the train station with a cold beer in one hand and an itinerary in the other. In the weeks leading up to my departure from Shanghai, and during my first month of traveling, he had been by far the most attentive and persistent of my contacts along the route.
He sent long emails and presented a detailed plan of attack for visiting the dozens of attractions Shenyang had to offer (even though every Chinese person I questioned leading up to my arrival in Shenyang had trouble naming one thing worth seeing in the city). He called me weekly, sometimes more often than that, his deep voice checking up on my current whereabouts and my estimated date of arrival in Shenyang. He wanted to make sure he was at the train station to greet me.
In Beijing, I finally had an answer for Mr. Shi. I would arrive on Saturday — at 2 a.m. I felt bad, but there were no other options.
“Mr. Shi,” I said to him over the phone, “we would be happy to get a hotel room that night. You could just meet us in the morning.”
“Nonsense,” his voice boomed back at me. “Saturday morning is still Friday night to us. It’s time to play. We will drink beer while we wait for you. It will be a party.”
There are stereotypes about dong bei ren, people from northeastern China: They are a hard-drinking lot — chuggers of both beer and bai jiu — and they are so amazingly gracious it makes you feel guilty. I can confirm both of these stereotypes to be accurate.
09.24.2004, 1:45 PM · Liaoning, Stories, The Trip · Comments (20)
