This is the second part of a weekly series written by a former development worker in North Korea. Read part one here.

The extreme silence of this city wakes me up in a jump. Or perhaps it’s the fear that I have of this apartment: so big, so odd, so empty. The moon is setting behind the Juche tower. I try to gather my thoughts and remember what I’ve done so far.

The day before that I was so confused I couldn’t retrieve any Korean words from my memory. I went to the shop located in the middle of the