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" &amp;quot;Welcome to the Democratic People&amp;#039;s Republic of Korea,&amp;quot; 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&amp;#039;s. Over the next five days, I&amp;#039;d be under 24-hour surveillance, and I&amp;#039;d be hearing all sorts of interesting &amp;quot;facts.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;What is the first thing you notice?&amp;quot; my guide asked. &amp;quot;Ummm\u2026&amp;quot; He didn&amp;#039;t give me time to answer. &amp;quot;The fresh air. Do you love all the fresh air?!&amp;quot; I sniffed for a second. All I smelled was jet fuel and diesel fumes. &amp;quot;Well, I\u2026&amp;quot; I stammered. &amp;quot;I think you very much like the fresh air,&amp;quot; he nodded. For the next 20 minutes, I was the captive audience for a lesson on the virtues of North Korean air quality. In reality, the only reason that North Korean air is decently clean is because they simply do not have any meaningful industrial output. This would not be mentioned at any point in my time abroad. It would be the first of many subtle twistings that I&amp;#039;d have to endure in the next few days. We arrived at our hotel, which was a ghost town. Over 40 stories high, and only three rooms rented. Half the elevators didn&amp;#039;t work, and when the doors opened on my floor, the hallway was dark. &amp;quot;Why aren&amp;#039;t there any lights?&amp;quot; I asked the guide. &amp;quot;We are conserving energy, eco and friendly!&amp;quot; he proclaimed.  &amp;quot;I think you like your room very much,&amp;quot; he said as he opened my door. &amp;quot;Five stars!&amp;quot; I scanned the Cold War-era decor, complete with a turn-knob radio. Three stars, generously. After checking in, we re-boarded the bus to go for dinner. &amp;quot;Do you notice,&amp;quot; the guide said excitedly, &amp;quot;No traffic!&amp;quot; He neglected to mention that only high-ranking party faithful are allowed to lease or own cars, nor that the average citizen (such as himself) could afford a vehicle even if they saved for a decade. &amp;quot;Do you also see,&amp;quot; he continued, &amp;quot;there are no billboards or advertising? Very nice. I think you like.&amp;quot; The reason, again, is elementary -- there aren&amp;#039;t any stores. Aside from a few grocery and clothing depots, including one called &amp;quot;Department Store #1&amp;quot; (there is no #2), there&amp;#039;s not much to buy, and people don&amp;#039;t have much to spend. &amp;quot;You can take pictures, maximum 10, with our permission,&amp;quot; one of the guides instructed. I took 289 photos in total, but none of the really interesting things. Like the child laborers we witnessed in the fields. Or the folks outside the capital, hand-drawing water from mud-lined wells. Or the troops of teenaged female soldiers. We were forbidden from photographing a broken-down bus, but encouraged to photograph a brand new one, just a few seconds later. With each place we visited -- the brand new swimming complex, the brand new equestrian center, the brand new daycare facility -- the concluding question was always the same: &amp;quot;What is your impression?&amp;quot; The real meaning was almost immediately apparent: &amp;quot;Is it better than yours?&amp;quot; We visited a brand new housing complex, built expressly for 1,000 party-faithful engineers, complete with a bird-chirping soundtrack on the kid&amp;#039;s playground. As we toured the various apartment models, the guides made sure to ask us the same question each time: &amp;quot;How much this house cost where you live?&amp;quot;  We&amp;#039;d reply with various amounts, the guide would translate, and the local family would nod in grave consternation. Sure, our houses aren&amp;#039;t free in the west, but they come with nice little extras like pride of ownership and freedom of expression. I caught on pretty quickly. I wasn&amp;#039;t going to give in so easily. Whenever we&amp;#039;d complete an activity, the guide would inevitably say, &amp;quot;What is your impression?&amp;quot; My reply was always the same: &amp;quot;It was good.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;GREAT?!&amp;quot; I wouldn&amp;#039;t answer. When that didn&amp;#039;t work, my guide decided to simply tell me what I thought. The phrase &amp;quot;I think that you like very much&amp;quot; was heard many times each day. I hadn&amp;#039;t yet learned the national secret: Everything is perfect in North Korea.  When our bus broke down, we were quickly rushed into a hotel to admire the heated floor. When the bookstore didn&amp;#039;t stock a book I wanted, it was simply &amp;quot;because it is a holiday today.&amp;quot; Everything we visited was brand new, or newly re-constructed, in the past 18 months. &amp;quot;We use best construction methods,&amp;quot; the guide explained. &amp;quot;And best materials.&amp;quot; No mention was given to the cracking drywall and the bubbling sheets of &amp;quot;hardwood&amp;quot; linoleum in the brand new edifices. The guides proudly announced impossibly short construction times for each project. Seven months for an apartment tower. Twelve months for an entire neighborhood. Nine months for a large sports complex. But no questions were answered about settling foundations or structural integrity.  Pollution was blamed on China, not on the three coal plant smokestacks visible from my hotel window, each spewing black fumes for the duration of my visit. We toured the war museum, complete with dozens of pieces of &amp;quot;captured&amp;quot; American military equipment. One officer explained that the North never lost ground during the Korean war. I was informed that -- I kid you not -- &amp;quot;our great leader Kim Il-sung executed a successful retreat.&amp;quot; Was I in another dimension where only good things happen? I decided to start testing the far reaches of this errant belief.  &amp;quot;Have you ever had a famine here?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Is there any crime in the capital city of 2 million people?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;None.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Is it true that there are concentration camps up north?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;You are mistaken.&amp;quot;  In North Korea, it&amp;#039;s never cold, it&amp;#039;s just &amp;quot;fresh.&amp;quot; When I&amp;#039;m not risking my freedom for a fresh New Year&amp;#039;s experience, I spend my days directing an abolitionist charity, so naturally I&amp;#039;m interested in every nation&amp;#039;s human trafficking situation. My trafficking query was countered emphatically: &amp;quot;We have no prostitution here.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;None?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Not even one case, ever?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I think never.&amp;quot; One of the guards fell asleep while we visited the symphony- his mouth was open and everything. When I teased him later he said, &amp;quot;No! In Korea we do something\u2026 I was just focus-listening with my ears.&amp;quot; Even the spelling of their animal sounds are superior to the rest of the world. &amp;quot;We can actually spell out every animal sound,&amp;quot; they insisted. Like moo and meow and woof. Eventually, in exasperation, I asked three of the guides, separately, three times each: &amp;quot;Do Koreans not like to admit when something is wrong?&amp;quot; All nine queries were patently ignored. Like the rest of the world, it seems, North Korea has a superiority complex. Unlike the rest of the world, however, they&amp;#039;ve never been exposed to the global reality that every nation has its strengths and weaknesses. Unlike much of the world, they haven&amp;#039;t learned that admitting failure is the first step to a far better future. North Korea isn&amp;#039;t all bad. They really do have some lovely buildings (built with conscripted labor), some gorgeous mountains (drilled full of holes for anti-aircraft weapons), and some of the friendliest people you&amp;#039;ll ever meet (seriously). And it&amp;#039;s important to note that North Koreans, in general, don&amp;#039;t actually hate Americans- they secretly love the West. They love Hollywood movies, even though they&amp;#039;re heavily censored. At Kim Jong-il&amp;#039;s museum, a Macbook Pro features prominently on his office desk. And let&amp;#039;s not forget about the Chicago Bulls. No, North Korea&amp;#039;s not all bad -- but the incapability, or unwillingness, to admit fault or shortcoming is a blight on the culture of North Korea. Where a kindly nation should flourish, self-obsession has taken root. Where a peninsula should be at peace, two philosophies perpetually stand on the brink of war. Because there are no problems in North Korea. There&amp;#039;s just one big problem everywhere else. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/news/a26927/north-korea-new-years-eve/>