What is it with dictatorships and their odd obsession to have everything be the biggest, tallest, widest and longest? Does North Korea really need the world's biggest stadium? Or a 'victory arch' larger than the one in Paris? Or, and by far the most ridiculous, the world's largest and tallest hotel?

My favorite though had to be the Tower of the Juche Idea. 'Juche' is the Kim clan ideology that stresses national self-reliance and independence above all else. Rather than proving their independence by feeding their own people, they spend millions of dollars on an elaborate tower extolling the virtues of a bankrupt ideology. One guesses the irony is not lost on the international aid workers brought in to feed the starving masses of 'the nation of self-reliance'.

The first stop on any tour is designed to smack you on the head with the reality of life in Kimland. That morning, at the airport in Beijing, our group had been given a bouquet of flowers to present at the monument to North Korea's founder, the Great Leader, the Lodestar of the Revolution, the Supreme Comrade, the Glorious General and Vanquisher of the Japanese, the Founder of Juche . . . Kim Il-sung. This wasn't an option. A member of our group was expected to solemnly present the flowers while the rest of us silently bowed our heads in respect and admiration. Failure to do so, all of the guides and guidebooks said, would cause "trouble."

On the bus to the monument, again leading in with the 'when in Rome' speech, Mr. Baek explained what a special occasion this was for us. How Pyongyang newlyweds and others embarking on a new and important step in their lives would come to the statue to pay their respects. How people in the countryside would come from far and wide for a glimpse.

As we approached the monument the Americans in our group passed around the bouquet like it was poison. No one wanted to be the one stuck with sucking up to the Kims. Fortunately the problem was solved, in an interesting bit of geopolitics meeting reality, when one of the Chinese members of the group volunteered to present the flowers. Now what to do about the bowing . . .

The first thing you notice as you approach the monument is simply its sheer size. Located on the top of a hill, the giant bronze statue of Kim looms powerfully over the citizens of Pyongyang living below. In this statue Kim appears with his right arm outstretched, as if exhorting his people on to some great victory. It's hard for pictures to do justice to the sheer size and weightiness of the actual figure. When you approach, even the tallest person barely comes to the bottom of Kim's feet.

Once off the bus, as we did finally approach, the guides held us back a few meters so the designated flower girl could walk up and solemnly present our gift to the statue. With that we were expected to bow our heads and observe a small moment of silence. Fortunately the guides were too busy with their own bowing to pay us much attention.

After 5-10 minutes of looking at the statues the guides were pushing and prodding us to hurry and get back on the bus. We were urged to, "hurry, hurry, hurry" in a way that would be instantly familiar to anyone who's ever boarded a bus, subway or elevator in South Korea. The first bit of rushing at the airport had been cool - we'd all been ready to get the tour started. It was at this point, barely an hour in the country, that people first started to get irritated by the relentless pressure to move on to the next place.

The next place was supposed to be a good one though, North Korea's version of the Arch of Triumph in Paris. Of course, as it was to be endlessly pointed out, theirs is taller than the one in France. The triumph in question was North Korea's defeat of the Japanese in 1945. Thus kicking them off the Korean peninsula and, as a side benefit, ending World War II. When asked about the US role in the war the guides mostly demurred. Preferring instead to discuss the awe inspiring military exploits of General Kim.

The giant arch was easily visible as we made our way further into the uncrowded city. The barren streets, nearly devoid of both people and cars, are a stark contrast to the teeming masses that jam Asia's other large cities. As we got out of the bus, warned to hurry up so we didn't fall behind schedule, we were again granted the privilege of taking pictures. This time to line up the photos we had to walk out into the middle of what seemed to be a major street - though there was hardly a car in sight. Seoul has more traffic at 3am in a freezing blizzard than this street did in the middle of a Saturday afternoon.

We got our pictures and then hurriedly went back to board the bus. Before we got back though we came upon a little bonus sitting at the foot of the arch - a small souvenir stand. A chance to see what the North had to offer, plus an opportunity to talk to someone other than our guides.

We had to hurry so we could go see one of the true treasures of the world - the Tower of the Juche Idea. A tower honoring Kim Il-sung and his philosophy, and of course the tallest or roundest or most whateverest in the world. It just couldn't be missed!

The Tower of the Juche Idea, with its flaming top, stands like a beacon along the eastern shore of the Taedong River in central Pyongyang. The tower serves as a chance for the North to begin educating visitors not just on the greatness of Kim Il-sung, but also on Kim Il-sungism, as Juche is sometimes called.

This "leading light of world philosophy" extolls the virtues of the independent North Korean way of socialism. By stressing strength through independence and self-reliance it's thought the people of the North can be inoculated against the evil material temptations of the outside world. "We may be poor but at least we have our dignity. Unlike those money grubbing sellouts in the South." That kinda thing. [For a similar take, please see The Economist's book review of B.R. Meyers' The Cleanest Race: How North Koreans See Themselves - And Why It Matters]

The tower itself offers great views of the city and surrounding area. The sky was crystal clear the day we went and you could see forever. That is, once we paid the extra $10 to go to the top.

What I'll always remember from my visit to the tower though is not the view but rather my first chance to 'ditch' the guides and rest of the tour. When the bus pulled up to the base of the tower we were once again broken into our language groups, then this time we were paired with a new guide from among the staff at the tower.

In what was to become a pattern over the next few days at all the larger monuments, a 'specialist guide' for that place would come out and give the tour while one of our normal guides provided the translation. They would also answer any of our questions through the guide or, once they got over the shock of foreigners speaking Korean, directly from us.

It was at the Juche Tower that I first began to realize being able to speak Korean was going to add an interesting dimension to the trip (and as an added bonus prove somewhat unsettling to Mr. Huk, our rookie guide).

The tower guide started with a walk around the base of the tower, extolling both its virtues as well as those of Juche's founder. We learned how the different levels and various designs that make up the tower all correspond to some aspect of Kim Il-sung's life.