“I grew up in the town of Dandong, on the lower reaches of the Yalu River, just opposite North Korea. When I was a child, what I knew about this neighbour country on the other side of the frontier river was what I had learnt in the classroom: the North Koreans were our closest friends, we had helped them to defeat the American imperialists, and we were supposed to look on North Korea as a younger brother… This fraternal atmosphere prevailed until the early 1990s. China's policy of reform and openness was then beginning to produce its first results. Since then, while the vitality of China is clear, when you look at the multitude oftower blocks that are rising up, the landscape on the North Korean bank of the river has stayed exactly as before. The only difference is that the people at the water's edge no longer wave at us at all in welcome. Today the name of North Korea is no longer mentioned except for references to the higher incidence of poverty there and the devastating outbreaks of famine, or to talk about the failure of North Korea's dialogue with the United States. For some time, I have felt myself becoming curious about this country which has always been our neighbour, and which has today become the most closed and secret country in the world.” The words of this remarkable young director who today lives in Pekin, explaining the desire he had to make this documentary about the frontier zone between China and North Korea, a story that speaks not only of geography and politics, but also of psychology. It is a travel journal enlivened by a host of encounters, filmed along the two rivers that mark the frontier: the Yalu River and the Tumen River, up to the film maker finally penetrates in North Korea, the country which looks like the China of his childhood.