North Korea doesn't smile 3

Cult of personality

The escalator takes us over 100 meters deep into the abyss of Pyongyang, straight down to the Puhung subway station, which means resurrection. The subway stations also serve as protective bunkers. I notice how well maintained and clean it is here. That would also look good on us at home in Germany. On the walls are paintings and ornate mosaics with the usual socialist propaganda. Motifs, how one would like to see the country: The nice, people-oriented father, smiling and godlike, admired by the classless, moves forward, enveloped in his golden halo. But North Korea isn't smiling. People are suffering; anyone who rebels against this is locked away in labor camps and forgotten. The fear is omnipresent, visible, within reach.

Down here in the subway station is one of the few moments, no, it is the only moment, of direct contact with the North Korean population. But that is also a huge exaggeration because all passengers have to get off at our station. From here we can travel a few stops in the wagon reserved especially for us.

Nobody greets us, nobody speaks to us, eye contact is only fleetingly established, if at all. A child jumps in front of my lens and backs away almost in panic so as not to make a mistake when dealing with strangers. The journey ends a few stops further on.

Speaking of mistakes. We are presented with impeccable upbringing of the children. Before starting school, all children have to go to kindergarten for one year. Then they go to school. Up to the second level, school attendance is free and compulsory. The first level of schooling lasts four years and the second level lasts six years. According to official information, the literacy rate is 99%.

Book recommendation: Kang Chol-hwan is a journalist who fled from North to South Korea and, as a former prisoner of the Yodok internment camp, describes life there in his book The Aquariums of Pyongyang.

The woman with the hair on her teeth describes the education system in the most dazzling colors. We are even allowed to visit a kind of daycare center. There the boys and girls receive very disciplined lessons in sports, music, fine arts and what not. To be honest, I would like to see that in many German schools. There, teachers are paralyzed with inclusion and students who can barely speak German. I think our politicians send their own children to private schools. That's irritating.

We receive further information during our bus ride. According to our North Korean tour guide, the crime rate is zero percent. There are two questions on my mind: How can it be that the crime rate is zero percent, but so many people are interned in re-education camps? And if the crime rate is zero percent: Why are our hotels locked at night “for our protection”? I'm already taking a breath. But our German tour guide Ramona looks at me with her eyes wide open. The woman with the hair on her teeth looks at me. I just exhale deeply and nod at her with a friendly smile.

Country behind glass.

I'm standing at a display case when someone unexpectedly speaks to me and asks if I've seen South Korea. Unprepared, I answer the question in the affirmative. I did not expect that. The person wants to know what it's like there. “South Korea is colorful, full of music and life,” I answer briefly. I report on busy (food) markets where people can buy everything. Everywhere there is the smell of freshly prepared food. Only now do I see tears in the person's eyes. Before the person can ask me another question, the woman with the hair on her teeth storms up to me and asks with a devious grin if I like it here. I smile at her, bow slightly and answer: “North Korea doesn’t smile.”, and leave her standing there with her mask-like face.

Empty streets, empty of life, in all cities; omnipresent meaningless propaganda blaring over loudspeakers, marching music two, three, four, boom, boom, boom; a triumphal arch against humanity and against the people. What does that do to people? There is no place to escape it. On television: propaganda. On the radio: propaganda. In the parks, at work, in the books and newspapers: propaganda. Everyday torture for the classless society is heard everywhere. Always. Socialists of the world, look at this country!