Visit to the Central Highlands, Vietnam

For the past 8 years I’ve been doing development work in various parts of Vietnam in the form of small-scale infrastructure projects – irrigation, drinking water, schools, roads, bridges – to assist communities which have not benefited from the government’s relatively successful poverty-reduction programs. I do this through an organization I set up called the Foundation for Microprojects in Vietnam (http://www.microprojects-vietnam.org/).

The main highway through the Central Highlands follows the old Ho Chi Minh Trail - the Viet Cong's secret supply route linking the north and south. At the time, It was mostly a network of footpaths under the protective canopy of the jungle. The US repeatedly bombed the trail in a vain attempt to shut it down. They also dumped huge quantities of defoliants, such as Agent Orange, in a vain attempt to expose the trail.

The Central Highlands of Vietnam are home to over 300,000 persons belonging various ethnic minorities that are descended from Malayo-Polynesians and Khmer. These are the aboriginal Indochinese people. They are commonly known as montagnards - a term coined by the French meaning mountain people. Christianity was introduced to the area by French missionaries in the 19th century and retains a strong influence.

One of the consequences of the Vietnam wars was the decimation and destruction it brought to the montagnards of the Central Highlands. Many of the montagnards were recruited by and fought with French and the US forces. By the war's end most of their villages were either in ruins or abandoned. This and the practice of Christianity has not always endeared them to the local authorities. Few foreigners or NGOs work in the area.

Wide-spread environmental damage was carried out through the use of chemical defoliants but this is scarcely visible to the naked eye. Aside from memorials to the fallen, and the occasional display of a captured tank, the natural growth of the tropical landscape has obliterated the most obvious signs of the many years of warfare. However, the slash and burn methods of farming practiced by many of these groups has caused considerable damage of its own to forestry and the natural environment.

From 6-15 October 2009 I traveled to the Central Highlands with officials from the Ministry of Labour, Invalids and Social Affairs (Molisa)to evaluate possible projects for assistance. We visited 9 remote villages in Gia Lai and Kontum Provinces. Each of the villages was mostly inhabited by ethnic minorities. This is an account of our journey.

7 October

We flew to Pleiku from Hanoi via Ho Chi Minh City and Danang. I was accompanied by Mr. Toan, a Molisa project assistant and Mr. Duc, an interpreter. We flew in a French-built ATR-72 taking a circuitous route to avoid ominous-looking storm clouds gathering along the chain of mountains. Mr. Thach, Director of the Department of Labour, met us at the airport and took us to what was probably the best hotel in town. My room over-looked the market-place. At 4 am it was already teaming with activity.

That afternoon we met with about five other provincial officials to work out our schedule for the coming days. It was agreed that we would start off the next morning at 6 am. That evening we had the first of a series of semi-official dinners consisting mainly of beer but also a variety of local dishes.

8 October

After a breakfast of rice porridge and noodle soup we set out at exactly 6 am. Not a minute earlier or later. We made for the commune of Ia Krieng one of 9 communes in Duc Co District. After a 2-hour drive, we approached the village on a dirt road about 10 km from the Cambodian border.

The inhabitants of Ia Krieng were scattered in small villages amidst rubber plantations and small plots of cashew nuts. The inhabitants were ethnic Jarai of Malayo-Polynesian lineage. Though the majority are animists, missionaries over the years brought Christianity to the region resulting in many Jarai becoming Christians.

We went to one village of about 150 persons called Kron. This village had the peculiarity of being inhabited almost exclusively by victims of leprosy. The head of the commune said that efforts had been made to integrate them with the rest of the population but that the population at large did not want go near them.

Children and dogs were playing in front of small wooden shacks apparently oblivious to the plight of the adult population. We went to the house of one man in his thirties who dragged himself to the porch with what remained of his legs and arms. He smoked a cigarette and greeted us. An elderly lady was fanning herself against the tropical heat. She was bare-breasted and was blind. Various prostheses were in evidence donated by local charities.

The village did not have electricity. We discussed the idea of bringing electricity to the village by installing a medium-tension electrical line about 3 km in length and setting up a transformer.

This could be done in a relatively short period of time. While not solving all their problems, it could make life a little more comfortable for the inhabitants. We agreed to consider this proposal.

9 October

The next day we returned to the commune of Ia Krieng and drove 30 km along a narrow dirt road through dense vegetation to a small wooden bridge. We had been asked by the chairman to come and have a look.

The bridge consisted mainly of bamboo sticks held together by planks of wood. The bridge, which spanned the H’re stream, was insignificant-looking but it played a crucial role in connecting 4 villages with each other.

As we stood by the bridge in the mid-day sun discussing how we could improve the situation, dozens of school children returning home from class teetered across the bridge, some on foot, others on bicycles and even the occasional motorbike.

Water in the stream was not high but then this was the end of the rainy season. The head of one of the nearby villages explained that just one month previously, the baby of a young mother fell of the back of her bicycle as she was riding across the bridge. This had been a considerable shock to the local community.

The proposed project consists of building a 5-meter concrete bridge with a capacity of 13-tons and upgrading the access roads. This would considerably improve communication between the 4 villages, allow market access for products and provide a safer way for students to cross the stream, particularly during the rainy season. We agreed to consider this.

We returned to Pleiku for dinner and some well-earned local beer.

10 October

We again set off at 6 am for the small commune of Dak So Mei in the District of Dak Doa about an hour’s drive to the north of Pleiku. The village chairman was waiting for us. He took us to a briefing-room dominated by a bust of Ho Chi Minh. We discussed the situation in the village. The population of about 4,000 persons was of Bana origin whose roots are predominantly Khmer. About half the population lived below the poverty line.

The Chairman appeared unsure of what to say. He thought a new school would be useful but admitted it would not materially improve the village’s economy.
Increasing agricultural production was key but that was difficult as there was either too much water during the rainy season or, during the dry season, no water at all. The main crops were rice, mango and a small amount of tapioca.

The Chairman took us to a rice field. It was bone dry (this was the end of the rainy season). We walked about 2 km along the field. He said an irrigation canal would allow 2 harvests of rice per year instead of one. This would increase per capita income for those who worked on the rice field. We agreed to consider this as a project but we needed more details.

On the way back to Pleiku, we stopped off at Ia Dok Commune in the village of Poong. We were led to an irrigation dam 82 m wide and 4.8m high. It had been built by the government in 1995 to irrigate a coffee plantation and rice fields. The dam had sprung leaks and the irrigation canals had deteriorated.

We expressed little interest in this project. We explained that the repair and maintenance of a government-built dam were really the responsibility of the local authorities and the people using the dam.

That evening we had dinner with the provincial Director of the Department of Labour and the Director of Planning and Investment for Gia Lai Province. We summarized our impressions and they agreed with our findings. They added that there were very few foreign organizations working in the province so they looked forward to our return.

That concluded our visit to Gia Lai Province.

11 October

The next morning we drove to Kontum. The road was good as it had become part of a new highway which followed the old Ho Chi Minh trail. The town of Kontum was considerably less developed than Pleiku but retained some French influence in the form of an impressive wooden church and the former bishop’s palace which was now a museum. We stayed at a modest government guesthouse where we were greeted by Kontum’s Director of Labour and Social Affairs, Mr. Thinh.

That afternoon we had a chance to visit the town, tasted the local coffee which had the general texture of mud and visited an ethnic minority museum.

The most northerly of the three towns on the Highland plateaux, the provincial capital of Kon Tum is located on the banks of the Dakbla River about 900km from Ho Chi Minh City and around 200km from Qui Nhon. It’s a pleasant, unassuming sort of place. There are well over 600 ethnic minority villages and hamlets in the province, mostly Ba Na, Xo Dang, Gie Trieng and Gia Rai. A sizeable proportion of the population has converted to Catholicism.

That afternoon we had a meeting with the Vice-Chairman of Kontum Province. She was a strikingly beautiful woman in her thirties by the name of Ms. Nhung. She sat across an imposing table in a large meeting room with a dozen other officials looking on. She put on her glasses to look at her notes then said how pleased she was to see us, outlined her priorities for the province (education), then asked whether we could join her for dinner. There was no doubt who was in charge.

That evening at 5 pm we joined Ms Nhung for dinner at a local restaurant. To my surprise she was accompanied by about 5 other women all in their late thirties or more. One of the women was Deputy Director of the State Bank of Kontum. Ms. Nhung explained that the next day was her birthday and that she had brought along a few friends to celebrate.

At this point, Ms Nhung turned into another Ms Nhung. Off came the glasses and out came several bottles of ginseng wine which was used for endless toasts around the table. Ms Nhung was clearly used to having her way and kept giving orders for everyone to drink up. She then asked for the music to be turned on.

The dinner rapidly deteriorated into general disarray. The women got up and started dancing with each other. The officials sat clutching their chairs, their faces flushed with ginseng. My head started to spin at worrisome speed. Ms Nhung continued her rounds, toasting those who could still stand.

At precisely 7.30 pm, Ms. Nhung announced that, indeed, it was 7.30 pm and added that ‘unfortunately’ she had another appointment. She wished everyone well, put on her glasses and disappeared into the night.

12 October

We left at the usual hour and headed for the Dien Binh Commune 50 km north of Kontum in the district of Dak To. We were taken to Ta Kang village, a community of some 470 persons. As this was in a low-lying area, the inhabitants were mainly ethnic Vietnamese or Kinh. The production of rice and tapioca were the main activities.

We were taken to a 24 hectare rice field. There was a reservoir and 3 fish ponds but no irrigation canals to efficiently spread the water around. A group of farmers were having lunch near one of the fish ponds. We went up to talk to them and explained why we were there.

The proposal was to build a 2,000m irrigation canal. When we mentioned this idea to the farmers, they got up and applauded. One said they had waited 15 years for that. Another said that they would supervise the quality of work themselves. They appeared genuinely satisfied. We said we would return once the canal was completed.

In the afternoon, we visited Tan Canh Commune and were taken to Dak Ri Dop village, a village of 330 persons. This was a precarious journey. The only access to the village was by motorbike over a primitive suspension bridge approximately one meter wide. Our knees scraped the sides of the bridge as we went by. The floor of the bridge consisted of wooden planks loosely placed several inches apart. If you looked down, you could see a raging torrent 50 meters under the bridge.

The village was inhabited by ethnic Gia Rai. Many of the houses were elevated off the ground. There were lots of children and dogs playing in the afternoon sun while adults sat under the trees. No one seemed to be working very hard.

The village head said that the village had 36 wells but all of them were dry during the dry season. Each family had to carry water from a stream 3 km away. We looked down one of the wells and, as far as we could see, there was no water at all.

The proposed project consisted of building a 50m3 concrete tank near the stream, 3,000m of distribution pipes and small 1 cubic meter concrete tanks for every 3-4 families. No pumping system would be required since the stream was uphill from the village.

We agreed to consider this project, talked to several families then made our cautious way back over the suspension bridge towards the town of Kontum.

This was the longest day of the trip. We set out early in the morning to the mountainous district of Konplong which straddles the Tay Nguyen mountain range. The road was good but consisted of an endless succession of twists and turns. Several in our delegation were car sick. This was considered one of the more backward districts in the province.

Once we reached a certain elevation, the temperature cooled down and there was even an appearance of fur trees. The surroundings were much like Dalat. On a previous visit, these same surroundings were shrouded in mist. Dampness hangs over the area 9 months of the year.

The district capital of Konplong was astonishing. The entire town was newly built out of the forest. New roads, government buildings, office buildings, even a tourist centre. Poverty reduction, it seems, means vast infrastructure projects.

The district chairman took us to Mang Canh Commune, a community of 9 mountainous villages totaling 1,755 persons. The population was of Mo Nam, Xe Dan, Hre and Kodong origin. The houses were elevated and made of wood with straw roofing. There were no schools but classes were held in private houses while the owners were at work in the fields. I climbed a ladder and looked inside one of the houses but the students had already gone home.

The head of the commune explained that most of the children have to walk several kilometers to attend class. This was particularly tedious during the long rainy season when it is cold and the roads are slippery with mud. We agreed to consider the construction of 3 two-classroom schools to be located in 3 of the villages.

We then moved on to Hieu Commune located in the same district about 20 km away. Here the problem was similar: children having to walk long distances from surrounding villages, often in a cold mist, to attend school. Hieu, however, already had a secondary school and a primary school. What they didn’t have was a place to stay. Students walked back and forth to school from a distance of up to 10 km. This resulted in a very high drop-out rate.

After much discussion, we agreed to the idea of building an 8-room dormitory complete with kitchen, on the grounds of the existing primary school.

This completed our visit to Kontum province. We arrived back at our guest house at 8 pm. The next morning we drove back to Pleiku in time for the 8 am flight to Danang and the onward connection to Hanoi. In all 7 projects had been selected. They will be carried out in 2009-10.

Visit to the DPR of Korea

I visited the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) together with my colleague, Catherine Bertrand, from 8-15 November 2008 to evaluate the completion of 2 middle schools which we funded in 2008 and to review possible new projects for 2009. (Please see www.microprojects-vietnam.org). This is an account of our visit.

3 November 2008 - DPRK Embassy, Hanoi

It’s been about 5 months since I first applied for a visa. Today I was informed it was ready. I arrive at the DPRK Embassy in Hanoi to pick it up. The gates are shut, the shutters on the former French colonial house closed. Not an auspicious start. I ask a Vietnamese guard outside if he could call for someone to let me in. He takes out his mobile phone. Ten minutes later, the Second Secretary, Mr. Pak, comes shuffling out and invites me inside. He speaks little English but offers me tea.

There’s little visible furniture in the entrance hall. I’m asked to sit down. Large portraits of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il look down from the wall. Mr. Pak takes my passport and disappears. Two other officials arrive and sit down without saying a word. I sip tea wondering whether the two Kims on the wall are standing before a sunset or sunrise. Ten minutes later, Mr. Pak reappears with my visa. He wishes me a good trip and suggests that Pyongyang will be a much quieter place than the turbulent streets of Hanoi.

7 November 2008 – Air Koryo office, Beijing

Catherine, a long-time friend and colleague who has already visited Korea, has just arrived in Beijing. Together we go to the Air Koryo office to purchase our tickets. I’m surprised to find a small, relatively modern office equipped with computers. A young Korean woman who speaks some English issues our electronic tickets in exchange for 300 euros. This will be the only currency we will be allowed to use in the DPRK.

8 November 2008 – Beijing-Pyongyang, first encounters

We board flight JS 152 from Beijing to Pyongyang. The plane, a Tupolev 144, looks relatively new and clean. The air hostesses smile and to my surprise the service is reasonably good. The seats are filled with Koreans loaded with parcels and boxes. The aircraft takes a long time to leave the ground. There were only 2 or 3 other foreigners on the flight.

One and a half hours later we land in Pyongyang on a clear autumn day. About 12 other Russian-built aircraft are parked at the airport seemingly not having been used for some time. We pass through immigration under the watchful eyes of security officials and are asked to hand over our mobile phones. Anticipating this, we had left them behind in Beijing.

Ms. Jang and Mr. Cha of the Korean Education Fund meet us at the airport with flowers. They greet Catherine like an old friend. Ms Jang, speaks almost perfect English while Mr. Cha speaks but a few words. We get into a Toyota minibus. On the way into the city, we cross only a few vehicles, mainly Japanese-made. We are taken to the Haebangsan Hotel with apologies that it is only a 3rd class hotel. But the facilities are fine, the staff friendly and the hotel centrally located.

That evening we have dinner at the hotel with the newly-appointed director of the Korea Education Fund, Mr. Chae. A retired diplomat, he too speaks very good English. The conversation is serious but easy. Ms. Jang joins in and Mr. Cha looks on. The dinner quickly loses its initial formality. We discuss the programme. The initial contacts seem positive.

9 November 2008 - Kumusan Palace

Catherine and I decide to take a quick walk around the hotel. That no one stopped us from going out was a surprise to me. We encounter other pedestrians on their way to work moving quickly and purposefully, swinging their arms as they walk. No one even glances at us even though we are the only foreigners in sight.

We walk for about half an hour along the river through Kim Il Sung Square and back again. When we return to the hotel, Mr. Cha is agitated. Where have we been? We’re late. It’s time to go to Kumsusan Palace, where Kim Il Sung’s mausoleum is located. And we need to dress up.

Kumsusan Palace is an enormous marble palace where Kim Il Sung supposedly worked during his life-time. Long marble corridors with moving walkways bring visitors into and out of the hall where Kim Il Sung’s body is on display.

As we enter, lines of formally-dressed farmers, students, and people from all walks of life are conveyed in the opposite direction, speechless and with transfixed expressions, having just seen with their own eyes the body of the Great Leader.

After 15 minutes standing on the walkway, we arrive in the great marble hall. The audioguide calls it the Hall of Lamentations. Tears are supposedly etched in the marble floor. An attendant leads us to the foot of Kim Il Sung’s body encased in glass. He looks oddly wooden. Ms. Jang, Mr. Cha, Catherine and I bow together. We move to his left and bow again. Then again towards his head. Then again to his right, each time bowing.

I am asked to write a sentence or two and sign a book of condolences. Ms. Jang copies down in her notebook what I had written. She says that she sometimes brings her children on weekends to see the Great Leader ‘to feel closer to him’. The deep sense of admiration felt by all Koreans appears genuine.

Catherine has a guide book - one of the few on North Korea. Somewhere within its pages it says that if you have qualms about bowing to the Great Leader, then don’t go to the DPRK. If you do go, then just do it. It seems like useful advice.

Drive to Wonsan, dinner with local authorities

This afternoon the four of us set off for the port city of Wonsan in Kangwon Province. Wonsan faces the Sea of Japan (here called the Korea East Sea) and was until recently the main port of entry for trade and shipping with Japan. All commercial exchanges have been halted following the deterioration of relations over the abduction of Japanese citizens. The two projects we came to see are located in this province.

The drive to Wonsan shows the full extent of the DPRK’s isolation. We travel for 3 ½ hours along a 6-lane highway and cross perhaps one vehicle every 15 minutes. Long dark tunnels allow us to cross through mountainous countryside. The landscape is dry and desolate with but a few signs of rudimentary agricultural activity.

Little villages or cooperatives are scattered here and there with small dirt roads leading to them from the highway. The only visible signs of agricultural activity are farmers, including soldiers in uniform, harvesting small patches of cabbage for the coming winter. There are no animals to be seen aside from a few goats.

The extraordinary thing is that everyone is moving around on foot. There are hardly any bicycles or other means of transport. Groups of people sit on the backs of their heels along the highway hoping for a ride from a passing vehicle or simply chatting. There’s nowhere to go, no means of communication. One could have been on another planet. We are briefly stopped at several checkpoints along the highway before being waved on.

Electrical power lines can be seen off the highway but whether or not they carry electricity is not clear. In any case, they seem to bypass the villages. It’s hard to imagine what life must be like in those villages in the dead of winter.

We ask Ms. Jang, an intelligent and well-educated woman in her thirties, whether she has heard news of Mr. Obama’s election. Yes, she says, she has heard of him. It was in the newspapers.But she has not seen any photographs of him. She did not know he was black. ‘Black?’, she asks, pointing to some black material in the car.

At last, we arrive in the port city of Wonsan. We stay at the Tongmyong Hotel. Thankfully it’s heated. We are invited to dinner with the Vice-Director of Kangwon Province, the Director of the Department of Education and the Director of Bopdong County where the schools are located.

We sit uncomfortably for 2 hours on a straw mat eating local seafood delicacies. Our hosts are warm and friendly and offer copious toasts of rice wine. Evidently, the funding of the two projects mean something more than the simple fact that two schools had been built. It seems they are genuinely happy to be in contact with us and especially to see Catherine again.

Suchim middle school

After breakfast we set off to see the first of the 2 schools located in a village cooperative called Suchim-gol (gol means mountain village), about 20 minutes drive from Wonsan. The village was newly-built in order to relocate the inhabitants from a village destroyed by flooding. The school is located across a river from the village. We are not allowed to enter the village.

The school is built in traditional Korean style. It has one story and stretches about 80 meters from one end to the other. The headmaster greets us. He explains that it had taken 11 months to carry out the school’s construction. There had been a lot of difficulty in clearing away the mud and building materials had to be purchased and transported over a long distance. The quality of construction, however, looks extremely good.

Electricity is provided by a nearby factory, there is good lighting and, above all, there is heating. There had been a lot of discussion about how the heating would be provided. In the end, it was decided to install a boiler with steam radiators under the floors. This is a common way of heating in Korea. Many of the hotels have heated floors.

Some 245 students (90 primary and 155 secondary) attend school with 22 teachers. There are 10 classrooms, 2 teachers’ rooms, 3 laboratories, a headmaster’s room and what they called a ‘political room’ for the teaching of ideology. Computers have been provided by the province. The students have to walk up to 4 km to get to the school. This is a normal distance in Korea. Before the school was built, they had to walk up to 10 km, not an easy task when it’s minus 15 degrees.

We visit the students in the classrooms. They are at first stiff and unresponsive. We take some photos and show them the results. They loosen up and start breaking into smiles. Even the teacher begins to smile.

During the break, while we are touring the building outside, the students pour out of the classrooms and surrounded us, jumping up and down with glee. More pictures are taken which generates even more glee. This is no doubt the first time they have ever seen foreigners.

Biam middle school

We visit the second school in a cooperative village called Biam-gol. As with Suchim, this was a newly-built village for the victims of flooding. The houses are built in traditional Korean style with a wall around it. Again, we are told it would be ‘difficult’ to enter the village.

The school is similar in construction to Suchim. It took 10 months to build, has 296 students (118 primary and 182 secondary) with 23 teachers. Some 54% of the students are girls. The school has 24 rooms of which 10 classrooms. The students have to walk up to 6 km to get to school. The procurement and transport of construction material was also difficult.

We visit the classrooms. The students’ reactions are similar to Suchim. Taking photos and showing the results once again break the ice. We ask them what they want to do when they finish school. One boy says he wants to raise goats another says he wants to join the army. The headmaster adds that a few might attend training courses and work in Wonsan but the majority will probably work in their villages.

The visit to both schools has been a very positive experience and the projects are clearly appreciated by the teachers and evidently by the students themselves. More than the actual schools, the fact that we have come from so far away to render assistance to these isolated villages seems to have left quite an impression.

Back to Pyongyang

That afternoon we return to Pyongyang along the same 6-lane highway. We stop at a roadside snack-bar near a lake. Mr. Cha’s mother, who lives in Wonsan, has prepared some snacks for us to eat. There is a waitress in the snack-bar who serves us the snacks. She has a nice face so I take a photo of her. As we walk back to the car, she accompanies us and takes my hand. She doesn’t let go until I get into the car. It leaves me with many questions about the full meaning of her gesture.

We see army units helping with agriculture and even sweeping the roads. If nothing else, Korea is very clean. Not an item of trash anywhere. In the car we talk about the lack of mobile phones. Ms. Jang ventures that ‘they must be very convenient’. She adds that perhaps next year they may be allowed ‘in her country’.

Ms Jang always refers to DPRK as ‘her country’. She explains the term ‘North Korea’ is not appropriate. There is after all only one Korea. Local maps of North Korea show the entire Korean peninsula. From now on, to avoid confusion, we use the terms ‘my country’ and ‘your country’.

It’s still daylight when we return to Pyongyang. Catherine suggests we go for a walk around the city. As the sun sets, the city looks strangely romantic, despite the socialist architecture. The river, the autumn leaves, the parks, and above all the eerie silence due to the absence of traffic, has a certain appeal. We walk for about an hour visiting the major landmarks, including a giant golden statue of Kim Il Sung.

When we return to the hotel, Ms Jang is horrified that we had ventured so far. ‘Something might happen to you’, she explains. But nothing happened. And nothing would.

11 November 2008 - Mt. Mgohyang

This will be probably the most tedious day of our visit. We drive 3 hours along another 6-lane highway north to Mt. Mgohyang to visit the International Friendship Exhibition. This is an exhibition of the hundreds of gifts made by foreign dignitaries to Kim Il Sung during his lifetime.

The surroundings are beautiful. The mountains, the trees and autumn leaves give one the feeling of being in a mountain resort. But the large marble building built to contain the gifts is something else.

We have a guide, a young, pretty woman in her 20s who speaks excellent English. She takes us from room to room and explains the origin of each of the hundreds of gifts. Some are quite interesting - a private railway car presented by Stalin, a bullet-proof limousine offered by Brezhnev, another limousine offered by Andropov, etc. But the rest of the gifts are less inspiring. Astonishingly, there’s even a gift from ‘a senior official’ of the UN Human Rights Commission.

The guide tells us that the hallways are 280 meters long, all lined with marble. There are dozens of rooms. After 2 hours of looking at gifts we have coffee in a temple-like teahouse looking out over the mountains. That was the best part of the visit.

But just when we think the visit is over, we are taken to another marble building, this time containing gifts made to Kim Jong Il. We spend another hour admiring gifts to him before heading back towards Pyongyang.

Kanso Tombs

In the late afternoon, we travel to the Kangso Tombs. We travel along the same highway as in the morning but this time south of Pyongyang. There are more bicycles in this area, the fields are more productive, villagers are pushing produce on wooden carts along dirt roads. There is an occasional cow and a few goats. We arrive at the tombs as darkness falls but no one is around to let us in. After much searching and asking around, it turns out that we are at the wrong tomb.

We move on to another tomb and find the guide who was waiting to show us around. The tomb turns out to be that of a 5th century king and is designated as a UNESCO heritage site. We enter the tomb and are shown the painted frescos which have incredibly withstood the test of time.

What did not withstand the test of time was, of course, the king’s jewelry and other possessions. These, the guide said, were looted by the Japanese. Resentment against the Japanese is never very far below the surface everywhere in this country. We leave the tombs as darkness falls.

As we head back towards Pyongyang, Ms. Jang asks about the election process in America, whether everyone can vote, whether Obama will be good for Korea, whether Clinton was a good president, what do we think of Madeleine Albright (she visited Pyongyang towards the end of her term as Secretary of State), etc.

It’s a surprisingly easy exchange of information on subjects which one might otherwise have thought best to avoid. She seems to be starved for information about the outside world. She says she has access to email but not to the internet. Mr. Cha, unfortunately, does not speak enough English to follow the conversation. Ms Jang summarizes the essentials for him.

Late in the evening we arrive gratefully back at the Haebangsan Hotel. At which point, Ms. Jang presents us with a draft agreement for future cooperation. She hopes to discuss it with us the following day.

12 November 2008 - South Hwanghae Province

Today will be devoted to visiting possible new project sites. The positive results of the first 2 projects, including, in particular, the goodwill that they have brought about, encourages me to be open to further cooperation. Ms. Jang has identified 3 villages in South Hwanghae Province where they need primary schools. She hopes we can select 2 of them for funding in 2009.

We head off for South Hwanghae Province, towards the village of Yanggye-ri (ri means lowland village) in Jaerong County, about one hour’s drive south of Pyongyang. The director of the village greets us together with the headmaster of the school. We are taken to the school complex which is located outside the village. There is a secondary school, an administrative building and the outlines in the ground of what was once the primary school.

The headmaster says that the original primary school was destroyed by flooding. But there is no sign of flooding on the other buildings. We assume that the school in reality collapsed due to bad construction material. The year the school was built was in fact a year of extreme economic hardship for the country.

We visit the secondary school. Both primary and secondary school students are attending classes in the same building. Since there are not enough classrooms, they attend in shifts. They come from several surrounding villages. The authorities say they hope to build a new 2-story primary school for about 250 primary school students.

We then head towards the village of Ninji-ri. The pattern repeats itself. The headmaster tells us that the primary school was destroyed by flooding. A new primary school is required for 263 primary school students who are now sharing classes with the secondary school students.

Chairs are brought out so that we can sit outside in the pale sunshine discussing details of the new school. We can see the villages where the students live in the distance. We agree it would be a good idea to build a new school and that we would consider it. The Vice-Chairman of the county invites us to a hotpot lunch.

Finally, we visit the village of Kangsan-ri in Anak County. It’s much the same story. The original primary school had been built in 1996 and destroyed by floods earlier this year. The remains of the school are still visible. Once again, we see no signs of flooding on the other buildings. Poor construction material seems the more likely cause. We sit again outside in the sun to work out the details of a new 2-story primary school. Locally-produced snacks, fruit and drinks are served.

North Hwanghae Province

On the way back to Pyongyang, we stop off at an orphanage in the city of Sarewon. This orphanage is somewhat controversial with Ms. Jang as it was not on her original list of possible projects. The idea evidently emanated from the DPRK Ambassador in Bern. This is considered a model orphanage to which many foreign visitors are taken. The facilities are clean and have been newly-refurbished by the province. However, it is too small. Can we please fund a new building?

We tour the facilities which house some 200 children up to the age of 4 years. They look happy and well taken care of. There are more boys than girls. Most of them have either been abandoned or their parents have died due to illness and general economic hardship. About 30 children live in one room. Toilet facilities are scarce. But since this project is much bigger than the projects we normally fund (well over US$100,000), we tell them we will ask around to see if anyone is interested. But we cannot fund it ourselves.

This completes our trip to look at possible new projects for next year. We drive back to Pyongyang. Farmers are working in the fields growing rice, maize and cabbage. Others are pushing produce on their bicycles.

This area of the country is more fertile and populated than the mountainous east. At times, teams of soldiers can be seen marching through the fields, carrying shovels or brooms over their shoulders.

Back at the Haebangsan Hotel, we have dinner with the UNICEF program officer. We tell her about the orphanage. She knows it well. Her main concern is not the building but the institutional practice by which the Ministry of Health hands over responsibility for children to the Ministry of Education when they are only 4 years old. This is a traumatic change at that age. UNICEF is trying to change that policy by delaying the handover until at least the age of 6.

13 November 2008 - MOU, diplomatic corps, Pyongyang

This morning we rework the draft agreement. We agree very quickly with KEF on its contents calling it an MOU. We inform Ms. Jang that we will ‘make every attempt’ to seek funding for 2 of the primary schools we have visited at no more than US$40,000 each. She will ask for detailed proposals, including designs, to be drawn up.

With agreement on the text in hand, Catherine and I go to the front desk of the hotel to make a photocopy of the document. Total confusion ensues. At first, they don’t understand what we are talking about. Photocopying machine? What is a photocopying machine? Do we want a coffee? Evidently, photocopying machines are not available in Korea.

This afternoon we have a meeting with the Swedish Ambassador. Catherine had met him on her previous visit. He is relatively young, friendly and informative. He invites us into his office. We talk about our experiences to date and the general situation in the country. He suggests there is no firm information on the health of Kim Jong Il, nor is it clear who will succeed him should he die. There is speculation that the country might be run by some sort of committee. Neither of Kim Jong Il’s sons are considered viable successors.

The ambassador adds that there are several European NGOs working in the DPRK. They work under the umbrella of the European Commission. Several US-based NGOs are helping to supervise the distribution of US-donated food supplies. They are based in a hotel away from the city centre.

We then meet the head of the Swiss Development Society, Katarina, who had been in charge of Swiss development assistance to DPRK for several years. We talk about the projects we visited and mention that we are looking for funding possibilities. She expresses interest and suggests we send her details when we receive them. Though non-committal, she is helpful and positive. At least she doesn’t say no.

14 November 2008 - signing of MOU, film studios and underground metro

This morning we formally sign the Memorandum of Understanding with the President of the Korean Education Fund. This important event takes place in the hotel coffee shop. Ms. Jang also signs the MOU as does Catherine. Mr. Cha looks on feeling a bit left out.

Later in the morning we attend the weekly UN inter-agency meeting. We are asked to introduce our activities as are other visiting agencies and organizations. It’s a way for everyone to be informed as to what everyone else is doing.

The content of the discussion is relatively thin. There are rumors that the border with China has been closed but there are different versions as to whether it is the Chinese or the Koreans who are responsible. Freight from China is still allowed in but Chinese visitors can now only enter DPRK by air. Rumour has it that the land border with South Korea has also been closed. This is evidently in retaliation for propaganda balloons which have been launched from the south. Most of the rest of the meeting is devoted to administrative matters, including a discussion on the removal of a ladder from the Bulgarian Embassy.

We have lunch at a restaurant in the diplomatic compound together with our friend from UNICEF and another colleague. Excluding Chinese and Russians, there are about 200 expatriates working in Pyongyang.

After lunch we meet Ms. Jang and Mr. Cha outside the diplomatic compound. We are taken on a tour of the DPRK film studios. This turns out to be very interesting.

Most of the films made in the DPRK are either anti-Japanese, anti-American or of ancient Korea. Entire sets have been built to resemble a Japanese town in the 1940s, an American town in the 1950s, and an ancient Korean village. Contrary to Hollywood where only the facades are built, these sets are made up of entire buildings. The imitation signboards and advertisements, meant to give a flavor of the time, are hilarious.

Our final bit of sightseeing leads us to the metro. We descend about 200 meters below the surface to a station decorated with chandeliers and revolutionary mosaics. We take the metro to the next stop. The subway cars are unusually small by normal standards and are decorated with portraits of the two leaders. There are other passengers in the train but they pay no attention to us.

Public transportation is efficient and plays a key role in Pyongyang since there are hardly any cars and few bicycles. Buses are filled to capacity with stars painted on their sides to show the number of accident-free trips they have taken. One cannot fail to be fascinated by the policewomen. They move as automatons directing non-existing traffic with jerky motions. At night they wear flashing lights. Their main task, it seems, is to ensure pedestrians do not walk across the street instead of using the dark underground passageways.

It’s our last night in Pyongyang. We invite Mr. Cha and Ms. Jang out to dinner. Mr. Cha brings with him the bottle of expensive cognac which Catherine gave him. We take them to the best hotel in town, the Koryo Hotel. We have dinner at a revolving roof-top restaurant. Though tired, they seem to enjoy themselves. The setting turns out to be a bit of a disappointment. There is no one else in the restaurant. And, of course, there is no view of the city as Pyongyang is plunged in darkness. The restaurant revolves in a void. But we all feel a tinge of sadness as our visit together is coming to a close.

Return to Beijing, 15 November

Our flight back to Beijing leaves early. We get up at 6am. There is no hot water and hardly any visible staff around. This does not seem to be the best time to get up. But the dining room had been mobilized by Ms. Jang to prepare for our early departure, so we have a basic breakfast. We say goodbye to the restaurant staff where we have had most of our meals.

Before long we are at the airport saying goodbye to Ms. Jang and Mr. Cha. We also say goodbye to the driver who has been a silent but competent presence throughout our trip. They have accompanied us everywhere and have done everything to make our visit pleasant. We feel sorry to leave them but agree to come back next summer when the two new projects have been completed.

We board the Air Koryo Tupolev and are soon back in Beijing, having rejoined the modern world after a one-week absence.