My Pyongyang Business Trip in 1988
After my Kabul story, readers asked for more, so here is my memory of Pyongyang on the same business journey in 1988. It felt less dangerous than Kabul, but no less strange. The city’s aesthetics, down to everyday objects, made a forceful impression on me. Yet if someone asked which of those projects gave me the most satisfaction, Pyongyang would come to mind.
The Project
As I said, the core task of this project was to inspect the branches of the TASS news agency, then arrange for the necessary changes and present my immediate client with an office in which his sometimes delicate technology could be installed.
Pretty much everywhere I was given a friendly welcome. Not necessarily because I’m such a nice guy, but because I was a kind of Santa Claus to the local staff. “So you also want a better fridge? No problem. And a new sofa for Madame? Sure”. I also always brought good vodka from the duty-free shops.
Most stops involved much the same task. Pyongyang was different: the new office was still under construction. The TASS staff wanted a dedicated communications line directly to Moscow. They did not want unauthorized listeners following their exchanges with headquarters. Arranging that connection became the central problem of my visit.
Before leaving, I contacted the Austrian trade representative in North Korea. He thought approval was possible, especially since the request concerned the Soviets, but warned me to allow perhaps two years. His account of the bureaucracy was discouraging: even a straightforward request could become a prolonged demonstration of authority.
“Ok, I’ve planned 4 days, but in the worst case I can add another.” “Never ever!”
And I did it, and hence my pride in this matter.
A Stratagem
Every culture has its store of practical wisdom. “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket” is one familiar example. Such sayings can become surprisingly useful when a practical problem needs a different approach.
Chinese sayings and strategies have often interested me. For this problem, I chose number six of the Thirty-Six Stratagems (三十六計): 聲東擊西, shēng dōng jī xī—make a noise in the east, strike in the west. The idea was to direct attention towards other matters, then present our real priority as a small concession.
The Trip
After several stops, I had planned a few days in Beijing before travelling to Pyongyang. Some errands had to wait: on the first night I lay in the hotel with chills. I suspected the effort of the journey, changing climates and time zones had caught up with me.
At the airport, twenty or thirty of us boarded and waited. And waited. There was no explanation. Eventually, a group of officials appeared carrying large numbers of shopping bags. It seemed we had been waiting for them to finish shopping. During the delay I read the propaganda material on board. Its claims struck me as absurdly transparent.
I had chosen the most expensive hotel from a limited selection. It was an enormous building, on a scale I found difficult to explain. I wondered whether someone had been preparing for great streams of foreign tourists.
Thanks to the “shopping comrades” at the airport, it was now early evening. No food on board and my breakfast had been modest. Korean cuisine is fine and I was looking forward to it. So I made my way to the restaurant. A long walk through winding, dimly lit corridors. Koreans standing behind pillars in the dark, whispering, and then the restaurant. It could accommodate the residents of a small town in an emergency. In the center of the action, ugly benches were set up alongside rather narrow rows of tables – obviously, they didn’t think much of wasting space. That evening, apart from me, there was only 1 French journalist couple. Otherwise emptiness.
I took a seat somewhere, the long walk to the restaurant had also whetted my appetite, and right, after a reasonable amount of time – from a Korean point of view – the waiter came too. I’m sure they just tactfully tried to express that they weren’t dependent on me. The man didn’t bother with time-consuming polite phrases, but got straight to the point: “Is this your place?!” “I doubt it”. “Yes, THIS is your place” and he pointed to a place 3 seats away. Ok, I’m always up for a good joke and asked for the menu. This looked promising and I was reconciled to the world again. The waiter came back and so we were able to deliver a sketch – good enough for prime time.
“Ok, so I will order some rice, some vegetables and meat. Let’s make this dish with beef”. “Long time”. ?? “What do you mean with a long time?”. “Long time”. “You mean, long time till it is ready?” Yes, long time”. “No problem, I am free this evening. So let’s start with the eggplant dish”. “Long time”. “I see”. “And the duck would also be a long time, I guess?!. “Yes, long time”. It was clear now that some of the dishes were not available. I didn’t want him to lose face entirely, so I said. “Ok, let’s do it like this: you put something together for me, I like almost everything anyway”. He took the menu and studied it long and hard before saying, “Rice?” “Definitely.” “Hot cabbage?” “Marvelous.” “You are very hungry?” “Yes, very hungry”. “Big Rice?”
Well, that was my dinner in this $300/night hotel. I mentioned that it was a huge restaurant of a dimension I never ever saw again. It extended over both building complexes. Booths were built into the corners of this restaurant and while I waited for my modest supper I kept seeing waitresses carrying trays of food disappearing into the booths. Of course, these were Korean guests – apparently privileged guests, like the officials with shopping bags at the airport. Had George Orwell had the chance to visit North Korea, he couldn’t have resisted adding an additional chapter to his “Animal Farm”.
The next day I met my Russian contacts for a preliminary meeting and explained my plan to them and we coordinated our approach to the meeting with the Koreans the next day. That was soon done, we visited the construction site and then they were kind enough to drive me around Pyongyang. A very educational drive. After that, I said I would like to take them out for a nice meal that evening and they should suggest which restaurant. “The kitchen in your hotel is excellent!” I tried to explain cautiously that this might not be a very good idea. I also wanted to eat very well here, if possible. “Don’t worry, it will be a good meal”. And so it was. The waiter was even almost friendly. In any case, he took the order without hesitation and it was a lot and with all the delicacies your heart desires and it was excellent.
The meeting with the Korean side was scheduled for the next day. Start 10:00 End 12:00. I knew that the officials was very specific about lunchtime. End of talks 12:00 means 11:45 last bows.
We entered the conference room and had some time before the Koreans arrived. On the wall were conspicuous devices that I took to be microphones. Nothing about them suggested discretion. There must have been about 10 people who came in then. And they weren’t (at least those who gave me a business card) the lower ranks in the hierarchy of agencies involved.
My Masterpiece
From 10:00 to 11:30 we haggled over things that were more or less meaningless for our side. Shadow boxing. Then, at 11:30, I said: “Ok, of course, I understand that certain things take time and have to be examined and weighed up and it’s a pity that we can’t solve them today. I understand that. But, I’ve come a very long way from Austria and now I’m flying back with no results and losing face at home. Can’t we at least get the leased line approved?” Brief consultation. “Yes, you can have the leased line!” 😊 😊
Back in my hotel, I notified my contact in Moscow. That was only possible by telex. Older readers can still remember these devices. The text is typed on a kind of typewriter, transferred to punched tape, and sent with another device. It wasn’t that easy in Pyongyang, because someone had to check “that I hadn’t made a comma mistake”, so I typed the text and handed the punched tape over to the lady in charge, who would do the rest for me.
We celebrated our success sufficiently in the evening and it was quite late before I got back to my room. I started undressing and the phone rang. In some cities, it was not uncommon for a man traveling alone to get an unexpected call in the late evening. But in Pyongyang? I picked up. Again, no unnecessary waste of time with a “Good evening” or similar decadent imperialist drivel. She got straight to the point: “You send telex today”. “Oh yes, so you already sent it?” “You come down now, pay”. What she tried to express was that I should go down in the middle of the night to pay my $2 for the sending of the telex. In this $300/night hotel. Again, I was surprised at the North Koreans’ subtle sense of humor.
What Else?
I remember very few smiles.
At the market I visited, I found dirty Chinese cabbage, rotten onions and potatoes. At the exit, a huge poster proudly proclaimed the abundance of Korean life.
From my room I could see a long street lined with modern high-rise buildings. My Russian contacts told me that they were unoccupied and that the water pumps could barely reach beyond the second floor. I could not verify that explanation.
I was told that the trade representative’s little daughter had learned at preschool that the sun rose because of the great chairman. On television I saw construction work apparently played at increased speed to demonstrate the workers’ diligence. Buster Keaton would have appreciated the effect.
Bored in my room, I also looked for what I assumed would be a listening device. Within two minutes, a conspicuously ill-fitting floor lamp had become my prime suspect. I could hardly take pride in that bit of detective work.
PS: As already mentioned, I love curiosities. So when I traveled to the USA (privately) a year later, I used my special passport with the entries from communist countries. In the worst case, I still had my regular passport. I got my US visa in this passport without any problems. Now I had these visas and more all in one passport and was able to add a nice addition to my collection.
I will end with a few propaganda images collected later from the internet. They are illustrations, not photographs documenting what I saw in the streets in 1988, and I have not established their dates. The first collage includes Chinese as well as North Korean examples. What I remember from my visit were mainly promises of bumper harvests and a brilliant future under the great leader.
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