I said it in the title, therefore there's no big sicret. I'm Italian, I am really Italian, curly hair, a little bit too touchy and other stereotypes, and I live in Pyongyang, DPRK.
But I won't spend a single word talking about the strangest country of Strangeland, for the obvious reason that as long as we are here (we, i.e., expats) the less we talk about the country, the better it is.
No paranoia at all, really. But I'm not here to work as a journalist. I'm a humanitarian and I need to to my job. And as long as I am concerned hmanitarian work needs silence and concentration. Expecially in the flooding season, whichi is exactly NOW:
When you arrive in Py the second thing you learn is that if you want to keep your brain and your temper you need to exit the country at least every eight weeks.
(You might have seen I do not mention the first thing we learn here, it will be the spicy gossip for a new story in a few years).
It might seem a little bit toooo much.
Every eight weeks?
YES: Every eight weeks.
Believe me.
No need for explanation.
Just guess.
At the beginning you simply plan to go to China. It's the closest and cheapest place, plus, it's the only place you can reach directly.
Therefore you very soon become an expert of the secrets of the beautiful Beijing.
But, after one year of nice journeys to the Capital of the South, you might start thinking that in 10 days (the average of our breaks) you could go to many other strange places in Strangeland. Asia is huge. You come from little Europe. C'mon, give it a try.
That's it.
I'm leaving the First and I will try to reach Vietnam.
To me, after one year and one month spent in Py, Vietnam seems almost a normal place. And it is a normal place that I'm looking for: overcrowded buses, street food, bars, attempts of dialogue. N O R M A L I T Y.
Frankly, I can't wait.
