National Post (National Edition)
‘Step by step, not in a rush’
Easing tensions with N. Korea will take time
“Well,” said the droll sportsnet.ca baseball writer Shi Davidi, “that story just writes itself.” He was being sardonic. Reporters gathered in the mixed zone at the Gangneung Ice Arena had just been treated to an interview with the mysterious North Korean pairs team of Ryom Tae Ok and Kim Ju Sik, who had skated their long program and finished 13th with personal best scores.
Correction: It was not an interview, even by the dim standards of the mixed zone, that area where athletes are compelled by the rules to encounter journalists and the deep discussion is a rare bird.
Instead, reporters saw Ryom and Kim pass by, and slow down briefly to take two questions shouted at them in Korean. The 25-year-old Kim appeared to answer the questions — he said something at least — the pair motored along and away, and then the reporters were given a translation from a helpful volunteer.
“So two things that they said,” the volunteer said.
“First thing is that there’s still a lot of things left for them to do. They feel somewhat disappointed because during the trainings, they did a whole lot better than the results that they got right here, so they will try their best to renew their score during their next performance.
“And second, their will and their plans for the future is to break their records step by step, not in a rush, but improve themselves step by step, better and better. That was it.”
Such is the hunger for knowledge of all things and people North Korean at these Olympics that one minute and 40 seconds of audio, including the volunteer translation, was pounced upon like gold: They spoke! They spoke, sort of! Step by step!
Indeed, step by step is a fitting summary of the effect of the rogue state’s presence and participation thus far at the Games.
The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea agreed last month to send 22 athletes to the south, this after their Olympic committee failed to fill out the paperwork on time and the International Olympic Committee issued the DPRK 22 unusual “quota places.”
Of that number, only Ryom and Kim genuinely earned a place at the Olympics, qualifying in the usual fashion.
Most of the others are female hockey players, who were deposited in a lump onto the South Korean team, with a handful of skiers (cross-country and alpine) and a pair of shorttrack speed skaters.
But that was not the sum of the DPRK delegation, not by half.
It is fitting that even North Korea immediately got into the true spirit of the Olympics by dispatching far more bureaucrats, minders, officials and hangers on than actual competitors — the total delegation reached 500.
The high-level part was headed by Kim Yo-jong, younger sister of the North Korean leader Kim Jong Un and director of propaganda and agitation for the party, and Kim Yong-nam, the country’s ceremonial head of state.
The sister in particular was greeted like a rock star, especially by giddy Western cable networks, when she sat in the VIP box at the opening ceremonies, looking remarkably like any other 30-something Korean woman and without a DPRK horn in sight or a baby nuke poking out of her purse.
The group stayed at a five-star luxury hotel for three days, and according to the English-language Korea Joongang Daily, that cost isn’t figured in the $2.65-million South Korea is estimating it will spend for the North’s participation here.
Then there was also the Samjiyon Orchestra, whose members came South last month and of course, the so-called “Army of Beauties”, the 230-strong cheerleading squad whose members are purportedly the daughters of the North Korean elite, and thus deemed unlikely to make a run for it and defect.
About half their number were at the skating rink for Ryom and Kim’s long program, tucked away in a corner, surrounded by minders, moving like the well-oiled machine that they are.
From a distance, they looked like a sea of red-andblue wheat — now weaving and waving the Korean unification flag, now bobbing and leaning to one side and now the other, now leaping, in magnificent faux spontaneity, to their feet to cheer Ryom and Kim.
The cheerleaders all carried and kept at their feet little bags with the tools of their dubious trade therein, and at some pre-planned point, the Korean unification flags were quietly put away and the DPRK ones brought out.
As soon as Ryom and Kim were done, the Army of Beauties were out the door, standing in two neat lines and then marching off to their bus.
Bruno Marcotte, the wellknown Canadian coach (and husband of Meagan Duhamel, with Eric Radford, the pairs bronze-medal winners), worked with Ryom and Kim in Montreal for eight weeks last summer.
Was there anything surprising about them, he was asked?
Nope, he said, they’re the same as any other athlete.
“At the end of the day, they’re all driven to become the best.” Just like his wife, Marcotte said. He didn’t talk politics with the North Koreans; he talked triple lutzes.
Not quite halfway through the first Games and it’s not yet clear whether all this rapprochement light and goodwill will add up to a genuine lowering of the tension on the Korean peninsula, let alone an improvement in the behaviour of the hardline bellicose DPRK leader.
Whatever else, it appears nothing will happen fast, or, in the immortal words of Kim Ju Sik in the mixed zone, “Step by step, not in a rush.” The 230-strong cheerleading squad whose members are purportedly the daughters of the North Korean elite, and thus deemed unlikely to make a run for it and defect.