CHAPTER 12
We reach Pyongyang as the sun is beginning to set. Most cities I’ve visited in eastern Asia display what feels like a decade of growth from one year to the next, but Pyongyang looks exactly like it did when I came here as a recent graduate. The same skyscraper stands half-erected, and partially completed construction projects abound with no equipment or crews in sight. The roads are nicer, however, and I figure this must be the closest thing to rush-hour that the city streets see.
At one busy intersection — meaning there are at least two cars waiting at all four stops — a young woman blows her whistle, rolls a baton, and simultaneously directs traffic wearing a miniskirt that might have come straight from a Halloween costume for a sexy policewoman. Hee-Man leans forward to tal
