by Luke on 7 March, 2010
in China
A Brief Introduction
I wrote this years ago as part of a narrative about my trip to Liaoning Province in 2007. I’ve not been able to write a satisfactory account of the middle part of the trip (and remain unsatisfied with what I wrote about its beginning), but have felt motivated to finish writing about the final leg of the journey, which took us to Dandong and China’s border with North Korea.
I mention this because some of the characters below (Know It All, Mr Binoculars, the idiot tour guide) would have been – and, perhaps, will be – described and fleshed out in this episode’s prequels. For this reason they aren’t developed below, though such development probably isn’t necessary.
Also, keep in mind that these events took place in 2007. Prices have doubtlessly risen, and Dandong has doubtlessly developed.
Enjoy.
How DPRK Gulags Became Dandong’s Saviour
Dandong (丹东) is a sleepy town that is able to draw a disproportionate number tourists because the North Korean city Sinuiju (신의주) is directly across the Yalu River. At Dandong the river is maybe 100 m wide, so from the riverwalk you can take as long a look at North Korea as you wish. Hawkers meet gawkers to rent binoculars and telescopes with which to give the North a good visual scrubbing. From the docks you can pay to go on a seven minute tour boat ride that takes you within mere yards of the North Korean shore; all the better to rubberneck at you, my dear.
North Korea from Dandong. It's just another place on a cloudy day.
Tourists and journalists find Dandong/Sinuiju appealing because the visual contrast is so striking. Dandong’s riverbank is towers and hotels and neon and KTV’s. Sinuiju’s bank is mud, dirty trees and worn buildings. I assumed the Chinese would look at the DPRK and think something like ”there, but for the grace of God…”, but none of the Chinese I asked reported thinking anything of the sort.
Sinuiju is the principal gateway for Sino-Korean trade, is home to a nasty prison camp, and is one of the North Korean regions chosen to experiment with running a market economy. The view of it from Google Maps is depressing.
The Boat to North Korea
Our boat pulls away from the dock and goes one kilometer upriver to the “Broken Bridge” (which US planes bombed during the Korean War to sever a Sino-Korean rail line) before veering to starboard to run parallel to the DPRK’s shoreline.
We’re now in North Korean waters. [click here to keep reading…]
by Luke on 25 December, 2009
in China
I started today with some festive Christmas linguistics reading:
"Academic Reading" is a course title, not an idiotic statement of the obvious.
Chomsky, Radford, Cook, Ouhalla and I spent the morning together, humbug-ing away.
After that I called my parents, who had just finished eating a Norwegian Christmas dinner.
My mother is a cook of such quality that I generally don’t eat holiday meals if they’re not cooked by her. Mom always cooks Norwegian food for Christmas, and there’s nothing that could replace it.
With all that being said, I’ve not been home in a while, and I thought it would be nice to have some Scandinavian food on Christmas. I told my mother that I planned to go to the Beijing IKEA for Swedish food. She approved, but pointed out that their meatballs are Swedish, and thus inferior in taste, quality, and character to the Norwegian meatballs I’m used to. At first opportunity I’ll find her an apron with a Norwegian flag on it so to anchor her cookbook jingoism.
(A quick aside: When the Monty Python movie Life of Brian was released, it wound up being banned in Norway. The Swedes proceeded to advertise the film as “So Funny It Was Banned In Norway.”)
The Beijing IKEA. Just 45 minutes on foot from 太阳宫 if you get lost.
The Beijing IKEA is far away from everything, at least, that’s how it seems if you arrive at the 太阳宫 (Taiyanggong) subway station (Line 10). It takes about an hour by foot to arrive at IKEA from the subway station. Of course, it might take less time if you don’t get lost.
IKEA is sort of diagonal from the subway station, on the other side of Taiyanggong Park (太阳宫公园). In fact, you can almost see the IKEA from the subway. So, it made sense to try to cut through the park to try to get there. After all, parks have more than one gate, right?
Wrong.
The park was almost completely empty, and looked like one of the sets from Children of Men. Creepy derelict toys everywhere. Signs said that the lake opens for skating tomorrow. The frozen lake is covered by a good inch of dust and dirt; I mistook the flags demarcating the skating rink for ringing off a paved go-kart course.
It was getting dark and horribly cold, so I hightailed it out of the park.
The IKEA restaurant is on the third floor. And it’s pretty great.
Swedish Christmas Dinner a la Beijing
Seconds (extra plate of salmon not pictured).
The only disappointment was the lack of that good lingonberry drink that you can get at IKEA in the States.
I was shocked to see most of the other diners eating spaghetti or Chinese food. A plate of spaghetti was ¥15. The salmon plate was also ¥15. How does it make any sort of financial sense to buy spaghetti at the same price as salmon? Had the spaghetti cost ¥6, sure. But ¥15?
After stuffing myself there was a bit of walking through the store (prices are lower here on most items). Amazingly, the Beijing IKEA does have a little Swedish grocery store. There was no bond-ost cheese or Swedish fish candy (!), but most of the other staples were available, including some Swedish vodka that I guess can’t be sold at IKEA stores in Washington State.
After some grocery shopping I caught bus 536 to 三元桥 (Line 10)…the station I should have come from in the first place.
Thank you, IKEA.
Happy Christmas and Happy New Year. Remember, religion isn’t necessary for morality: be good for goodness’ sake.
