The thought of spending an extended period inside one of Pyongyang’s hotels may be far from the ideal holiday trip for the average traveller. Setting aside the famous but as-yet unfinished 105-storey Ryugyong Hotel (which has yet to open its doors to visitors), Pyongyang also has a surprising selection of other hotels which quietly service international travellers and locals alike. These are the subject of a new photography project Hotels of Pyongyang by James Scullin and Nicole Reed.
Choson Exchange’s Programme Manager Ian Bennett has been travelling to North Korea since 2008 and here recounts some memories and anecdotes from staying in these hotels over the years. Join us on one of our programs training entrepreneurs in North Korea and experience the charm of these (strange) places!
A light show displayed on Ryugyong Hotel © Nicole Reed
Back in 2008 when I first visited North Korea, regular electricity and hot water were rare treats in the countryside and even in some of Pyongyang’s hotels. Things have improved significantly since then, although admittedly by many orders of magnitude more in the capital than in the provinces. In 2019 in Sariwon, an hour’s drive from the capital I still found no running water in my room and we dined by the light of mobile phones.
But if you came to North Korea looking for luxury, you’re doing it all wrong; comparing the quality of the facilities to a similarly priced establishment in a western country is to almost wilfully miss the point. The uniqueness and charm lie in the kitsch, the décor, the departure from our usual definitions of hospitality, and more than anything, the people.
With many North Korean hotels, you make your fun where you can. Foreign visitors are usually not free to roam the streets alone, which means that otherwise unremarkable hotel bars and karaoke rooms become focal points for an evening’s activities. These places can be entertaining, but you need to approach them with a mindset to want them to be that way, embracing them for what they are- smoky atmosphere, plastic knickknacks, propaganda television shows, the lot.
Symmetric hotel lobby architecture © Nicole Reed
A hotel bar open for foreign tourists to spend the evening © Nicole Reed
Cubicle karaoke rooms with popular North Korean songs © Nicole Reed
I recall meeting two German engineers a few years back who had been sent to Pyongyang to work on the printing press for the Rodong Sinmun Party newspaper. They might be the only people I have ever met who didn’t get the memo- any memo- about North Korea prior to visiting. I found them alone in the Pyongyang Hotel bar, staring forlornly into pints of Taedonggang lager with an air of gloom and boredom. Choson Exchange brings foreign business leaders to Pyongyang to teach business skills to Korean entrepreneurs. We visit frequently and know the city well. When I explained this to our engineering heroes, their faces lit up. “We’ve already been here two weeks and our company hasn’t told us when we are going home. Where are the bars in this city? What about clubs?” They visibly deflated as I told them this just wasn’t the sort of place where foreign visitors hit the town of a Saturday night. Our paths never crossed again after that day, but I sincerely hope they eventually found what they were looking for.
The more time you spend in Pyongyang’s hotels, the more you become desensitised to the absurd. Empty corridors where at any moment you imagine a child on a tricycle might come pedalling down; sitting at the only breakfast table in a cavernous ballroom that could- but never will- hold hundreds; garish toothpick holders and napkin dispensers; wall calendars of smiling soldiers, men arm in arm under cherry blossoms, women brandishing swords; bedside radios with an array of dials and switches that all appear to do the same thing- nothing- but with just a few too many wires to comfortably put to bed the notion that you might want to watch what you say out loud, even in your own room.
A North Korean waitress © Nicole Reed
A hotel dining room boasts primary colours and symmetry © Nicole Reed
Hair salon with pastel-coloured and shiny aesthetic that exude features of a Wes Anderson film © Nicole Reed
We visit for a week or two at a time, a few times a year. Whatever our frustrations, we always know this is temporary. For the local staff it is different, and I never fail to be impressed by their cheerfulness in the face of adversity and quiet dignity with which they carry out their appointed roles. Characters emerge; the lady in the 4th floor bar at the Pyongyang Hotel, serving with grace and patience until such time as the last person sees fit to leave, then retiring to her room for a precious few hours rest before opening up at dawn for coffee; the receptionist at the Haebangsan, impeccably turned out even on a frozen January morning when the water in the foreigners’ rooms was lukewarm and sporadic at best, meaning that the staff must have washed under icy showers; the ever-smiling bartender at the Yanggakdo, serving the house beer and cocktails with pride year in year out, like each day was his first on the job.
“I never fail to be impressed by their cheerfulness in the face of adversity and quiet dignity with which they carry out their appointed roles”
The ever-effervescent bowling alley attendants at the Yanggakdo © Matt Kulesza
Each hotel has its own character, but the overall impression is often one of faded glamour; but perhaps one that never really saw its glory days. Someone once said that every hotel is the same when you are asleep. That may well be true, but regression to the mean has rendered many western establishments eminently forgettable even by day.
The same cannot be said of the hotels of Pyongyang.
The exterior of the Haebangsan in Pyongyang. Single hearted unity! © Nicole Reed
Words by Choson Exchange's Programme Manager Ian Bennett; photos reproduced with permission from a new photography project Hotels of Pyongyang by James Scullin and Nicole Reed.
You can also join us in North Korea seeing these hotels and sharing your expertise as a volunteer.