limb and say a fraction of a fraction of 1% of the all conversations that are exchanged between all the chatter boxes out there involve a combination of those words. Fortunately and fatefully, that question and that answer were both featured in a phone call between Alicia, (my friend and Korea travel partner) and myself; and after a few clicks of the mouse on the information superhighway our trip to North Korea was set in place. A trip....a trip to North Korea.
What kind of expectations do you entertain before going to one of today's most notorious totalitarian dictatorships? Was it going to be a harsh stay in third world style surroundings? Were we going to be shuttled around by gun toting communist soldiers like a fragile breakable toy? Were we going to have to do jumping jacks in the morning after sleeping in small and uncomfortable cells? (For the record, these situations were all what I secretly wanted...and none came remotely close to being met).
48 hours stay: many hours of hiking Guemgang San Mountain, many hours of bus transportation, and many less hours of sleep. The latter was a formality whose impact was much more devastating than anticipated. (A lack of sleep and the resulting drug like and lackadaisical effect was a recurring theme to one of the strangest weekends of my life) Oh yeah, and a few other planned activities that through my expectations for a loop: stays at hippy mineral baths/hot springs and early evening entertainment at the North Korean circus featuring the flying Stalinists and their acrobatic wonders.
4:00pm Acrobatic wonders of the "Flying Stalinists." My snoring was heard outside the building.
myself, I got horrible sleep, maybe 3 or 4 hours. Total sleep for the past two days = 6-7 hours.
she snapped something unintelligible back at me with a look in her eye that screamed "I will remove a testicle with a spoon."
collapsing regime, dotting the landscape. Just standing and watching. The small village square we ultimately ended up at was beautiful and clean on the outside, but after being there for extended period of time....The place started to echo with silent screams of hollowness, of fabrication. You knew you were just being spoon fed a pretty and sugar coated little theme town that was simply created to give the impression of stability and happiness. An image at complete odds with the country we were in. Aside from random patrols of soldiers in those muted brown uniforms (I will never forget the uniforms), I am pretty sure the town was staffed almost completely by South Koreans. At any moment during the day in this tinsel town of NK, there was music being played over loudspeakers....I couldn't tell if the song changed or if it was looped. Just a Korean woman singing the same indecipherable words over and over. 
A weekend relatively empty of the true craziness and mayhem that I love and seek. A weekend quietly exploding with surreality. A weekend full of things so bizarre, so extraneous, so fake. I was and upon recollection, am still left scratching and shaking my head with a silly, awkward smile. The time flew by with the blink of an eye, yet I know the memories will always be. I read somewhere that memory is like a child walking along the seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.

I come from a small town north of Seattle, WA, where I learned that rain is a magical thing because it turns things green. I have had the chance to go a few places and see a few things of which all I have are pictures, memories and stories. I am currently living and learning about Los Angeles, California, and what it means to be an Angelino.