“Welcome to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea,” our host beamed. The plane had barely landed, and the propaganda had already started. I was officially part of the first tourist delegation to ever visit North Korea for New Year’s. Over the next five days, I’d be under 24-hour surveillance, and I’d be hearing all sorts of interesting “facts.”
“What is the first thing you notice?” my guide asked.
“Ummm…” He didn’t give me time to answer.
“The fresh air. Do you love all the fresh air?!” I sniffed for a second. All I smelled was jet fuel and diesel fumes.
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