I have this ongoing movie night with a couple of friends; Carlo and George. We watch a movie, eat fattening food, and gossip gayly. Carlo is a young doctor, who is often flown around the world to lecture on his specific field of research. Usually, he tacks on a vacation pre or post-lecture somewhere around the area he is flown into. George is a retired NGO worker, who spent many years working in some of the most torn countries in the hardest part of their history. Often the conversation turns to our upcoming travel plans and then begins to follow a certain and predictable pattern.
Let me describe this pattern. Carlo will usually mention his upcoming plans to Europe or the larger cities of North America like New York or LA, and George will grow very chipper and begin offering names of the many bars, restaurants, and shopping arcades Carlo absolutely must visit, he will list out his favourite points of interest, how to get there cheaply, and always add on a less than subtle hint at what souvenirs he’d like from there. When I begin to tell the group about my upcoming holiday, George usually takes a long haul on his gin, sits back, and begins a monologue detailing why this destination is horrible, and why I’m going to have an absolutely awful time.
I’ve always been fascinated by countries deemed “unworthy” for travel. I like the backwaters, the distant, the unconsidered and it is oftentimes in these places I find some of life’s most touching and memorable experiences.
Being a gay traveller always makes things a little more interesting as not all the world accepts us or even is aware of our presence. I’ve done my circuit parties, I’ve done the prides and the scene as it is, and therefore I don’t really have the desire to specifically travel for any gay event.
In fact, I prefer to see the countries where gaydom doesn’t even have a name allowing me to be able to see a people through my pink coloured glasses and let them have a look at me through their own lenses.
North Korea
I’m not gonna lie. I love North Korea. I’ve been twice. I had my birthday there. Now before you judge, here’s what I’m thinking. I think it’s really important to separate a country from its government. The North Korean government is reputed to be a bit strict, shall we say. However, the country is beautiful, the people are incredibly friendly and welcoming, the food is very good with many types of kimchi you can’t get anywhere else, and the beer, ohhh the beer, is incredible and cheap. What more do you want? How about stunning scenery, a unique history, and incredible attractions. Did I mention you can get a bottle of 75% Soju for a euro? Yes.
I decided I wanted to see North Korea and I thought a fun way to do that was to run the Pyongyang Half Marathon. I had never been a runner so why I thought this was a good idea is beyond me. We can leave the how I actually got into shape to run a half marathon for another day but, I got there, with much pain. Much pain.
The tour company I went with was incredible, as they did a super job prepping us first-time travellers for the experience. Basically, they sent you a bunch of dos and don’ts and insisted you join a briefing before actually going but what it all boiled down to was ‘don’t be a jerk’. You’re in North Korea, follow the rules and you’ll have a super time, However, what came as a bit of a shock to me was the tour group encouraged us to bring photos of our friends, family, and our lives, to share with the Korean guides.
This immediately put up a red flag for me as I was sure that the gay thing wasn’t going to be welcomed. To my surprise, after talking to the tour company, it wasn’t an issue. The Koreans don’t have any issues with the gays but firmly believe that it does not exist in North Korea. It’s a foreigner thing. Here’s what leads up to one of the nicest moments I’ve ever had making friends while travelling.
I had just finished the race at 2 hours 17 minutes, which was about 8 minutes off my record.
Not good but respectable, I think. Just going back a second, the run was sensational. Sensational. I cannot say this enough. Sensational. It started in a stadium with 30 thousand North Koreans cheering for us as we walked onto the pitch. They were waving shiny cones in unison and cheering at a almosts deafening pitch. It was very easy for me to imagine that all of this was set up for me and I let myself lapse into that fantasy for a small while. The race was through the main section of the city but also winded its way into some of the more residential parts of town, all along the route people were gathered to cheer us on, give us a high five, and even wave flowers at us as we ran past. Yes, real flowers were being literally thrown at my feet. Fantasy time again. In the end, we ran back into the stadium, did a victory lap, and received a towel, which is customary after a run.
After the race, we went up to sit in the stands and watch some entertainment as other runners finished up. It was here I got talking to one of the guides, who I will refer to as Mister Park, and he started asking me about my life. I told him that I’ve been in Bangkok for a long time and how I taught yoga there. He was immediately interested in yoga but also whether or not I had a girlfriend. I figured ‘well here goes’ and I told him, no but I did have a boyfriend and pulled a small photo of my now-husband out of my wallet to show him.
To my surprise, the first question he asked was ‘is this a Thai ladyboy?’ I nearly fell over because seriously how did the mysterious third sex of Thailand make its way to North Korea. I can’t even imagine how he came to hear about Thai ladyboys. I collected myself and responded to Mister Parks question and said ‘well after a few tequila shots maybe but generally no he’s a man.’ To this Mister Park shook his head and responded ‘oh I don’t like that at all.’ Which pretty much meant we weren’t going to be friends and we sat next to each other awkwardly until the race finished.
We didn’t talk for the remainder of the day’s activities, although he remained very professional and polite. However, the next day started with a sizeable shock. Mister Park took me aside at the beginning of the day telling me that he urgently needed to talk with me. My first reaction was ‘ooooooooh shiiiiiiit’ I mean come on, I’m in North Korea, I was slightly on edge and to be taken aside for a private and urgent conversation caused a few palpitations. I, very, reluctantly followed Mister Park over to the side, when he stood square in front of me, looked me dead in the eyes, which is very unusual, and asked ‘Mark do you love your boyfriend?’ With my bladder slowly beginning to empty down my leg I managed to squeak out a ‘yes’ to which he responded ‘okay, then that’s okay’ and we were best friends again.
I got a chuck on the shoulder and he escorted a very confused me back to the group. For the rest of the trip, we were buddies. He introduced me to his friends, insisted I drink whisky with them, which I was more than happy to do, he insisted I smoke with them, this insistence of North Korea cigarettes was a little harder. I don’t smoke and those things are not light. But it created a most incredible moment where I made a friend and maybe helped one gentleman to figure things out a bit for the better. I can only assume that he went home, maybe talked it over with his wife, and came to the conclusion that everything he believed about gay guys wasn’t necessarily correct and the fact that he did all that to be my friend really touched the deepest depth of my little heart.
Obviously we aren’t in contact with each other anymore, although I did enquire about him when I went back and heard he is doing well, but I really felt I made a friend that trip and I only have good memories when I think back.
Mark Scodellaro
Neo hippie, yoga non-guru, and man of mystery. Avid traveller but only recently started writing about it. Yoga enthusiast, activist, and teacher in Bangkok. Loving father of four fur babies.
This piece was prepared online by Panuruji Kenta, Publisher, SEVENSEAS Media