Post the Fourteenth: Robots (Dandong 4 of 5)

Continued from Part III...

Downtown Dandong

Part IV: The City of Dandong

Just like any other city in China, Dandong is a bustling metropolis (see TOO MANY PEOPLE) full of chain stores and small shops alike. The thing about Dandong is while it is much less internationalized and developed than Harbin it still manages to be somewhat cleaner and friendlier. Even two weeks later, I'm still not sure why.

View of downtown Dandong from the Korean War Museum.

A view of the mountains from the Korean War Museum.

After the museum, we went to Dandong''s pedestrian street (apparently every major city in China has to have one area where people can walk around and shop for overpriced goods) to look around. It was sort of a poorer imitation of Beijing's Wangfujing or Harbin's Zhongyang Dajie, though just as lively. The typical banks and foreign stories were there, as well as cheaper Chinese imitations of said foreign stores. The street is home to one of the best bubble tea stands in China. For four kuai (about 60 cents), you could get one of 50+ flavors of milk tea with tapoica pearls. DELICIOUS.

Length-shot of Buxing Jie, Dandong's pedestrian street.

Another shot of Buxing Jie.

Yes, it's totally normal to wear one's jeans on one's head.

Even superheroes weren't spared by the economic recession.

Zhen Ai, or Real Love, is a nightclub in Dandong. The only reason that it's cool is due to the fact that it has a spring-loaded dance floor.

For dinner on Friday, we decided to check out the Pyongyang North Korean Friendship Restaurant in Dandong. The establishment was built by the North Korea government as a diplomatic bridge between China and North Korea. The restaurant itself is run by a team of North Korean androids waitresses and a lone North Korean director computer programmer manager. It's a bit odd since there aren't any windows, only half the tables are ever full and the place is unnervingly clean (compared to the dirt and grit outside on the street).  The waitresses are all naturally slim and gorgeous (North Korea obviously doesn't have any malnourished ugly people) and most of them can't speak Chinese.

They can't speak Chinese.

Each waitress, who is probably the daughter of some North Korean political big-shot, gets to come to China to work in the restaurant for a maximum of two years. Prior to coming to China, the women do not receive any Mandarin lessons. I'll tell you right now that trying to communicate to someone in a language that neither of you speak is one of the most frustrating things ever.

Anyways, back to the story...

When our (obviously American) party of six strolled into the restaurant, we were immediately greeted by a non-smiling young woman who led us to a table (with four seats) and left us to pull up two more chairs. Another young woman (also emotionless) stepped forward with a menu and stood by silently while we pursued about 20 pages of overpriced Korean fair. Besides dog meat, we had no idea what to get so I turned to the woman and asked her, in Chinese, to recommend a few dishes. She just looked back at me. I asked again. She sort of shook her head and pointed at the menu. "But which things are good?" "Ummmmm..." We went back and forth in this manner for some time, and eventually ended up pointing at the most tasty looking pictures. Our waitress said nothing at all, though she semi-pursed her lips when we ordered the dog meat. While the food was okay, the fengshui was a bit creepy so we quickly paid our bill (I had to ask about three times since she didn't understand me) and went down the street to an open-air barbecue restaurant for dumplings and meat kebabs.

Entrance to the China-North Korea Friendship Restaurant. Notice the blinds are closed.

The presentation seemed almost half-hearted. It's not like it's the only flagship outlet of North Korean cuisine and culture or anything.

Some kimchi, some Korean beef, and some dog meat. Stringy and plain, do not eat.

The restaurant was definitely a weird experience and left me with a lot of questions. Do the waitresses ever go out? What do they think of their Chinese customers? Of their American customers? What happens when they go home to the DPRK? After living for two years in China were there are loud advertisements, cell-phones, and South Korean pop music, do they want to go back?

End Part IV...