Its the year 2007 and you’re visiting North Korea due to your heritage from your father, who died here, you don’t know how as you arrive here but he was vindicated due to helping the poor people from the villages with distributing food to their malnourished families. You also know the country is hungry everyday, and most other people (not counting those in higher ranks or better behaving, in good families perhaps) are living in a well off apartments in communist, brutalist building in Peongyang. You’re taking the trip to North Korea in a winter coat, kinda short though and jeans, with some boots, you also have a camera just to take quick pictures. There are only some places you can go to, and almost all of those available to tourists have specific times for visiting, only in company of a travel guide, usually in uniform as well. You get out the plane, sighing and holding your knees as you step out to the airport with the 5 other tourist whom you will be sharing the trip with, hotel as well. ”Ah.. finally” You continue walking