A school in Pyongyang

We visited an elementary school in Pyongyang. One of the attractions was a “science lab” that featured rusted microscopes neatly lined up on lab tables. Each table featured a pencil box with 2 pencils of exactly the same length, and an untouched eraser. On the teacher’s desk were test tubes with broken bottoms, and an overhead projector with broken mirror plate. Dysfunctional details aside, it was similar to the science lab in my primary school, with jars containing preserved animals and other oddities, and charts showing the geographic spread of the different species.

The walls of the school featured either propaganda images, or noticeboards highlighting a model students and alumni.

On a school field devoid of grass, a football practice was in session, with the players taking turns to shoot at a “target” goalpost.

Our tour guide had told us that the children were “excited” to put on a performance for us. In an auditorium with wooden seats a band played, children sang, and young girls danced in traditional clothing. It was really quite impressive. It then got really weird. The young girls fanned out into the audience, each picking a male tourist to be her dance partner. I proceeded to be dragged onto the dance floor by a young girl of about 10 years of age who had every intention of leading me in some sort of folk dance, but zero intention of making eye contact or communicating with me.

As we were boarding the bus to leave, children started lining up in a large column along the road leading to the school gate. Holding flags, signs and streamers, they proceeded to march out of the school into the city, singing patriotic songs. Our tour guide told us the children did it to encourage the citizens of Pyongyang. As our bus travelled around the city later that evening, I observed a few other columns of children making their way around the city. It must have worked, for we encountered no blackouts in our hotel that night.