Kingdom Kim's Culinary Outposts

North Korean waitresses perform for patrons
A North Korean waitress working at the Pyongyang restaurant in Phnom Penh

Inside the bizarre world of Asia's North Korean restaurant chain.

Monday, March 22, 2010
By Sebastian Strangio
Slate

Packed for dinner each night, the Pyongyang restaurant in the heart of Cambodia's capital, Phnom Penh, is as famous for its kimchi as for its troupe of talented Korean waitresses, who perform an elaborate floor show for patrons. But Pyongyang is no ordinary Korean mess hall. The operation is run by the North Korean government, part of a chain of dozens of eateries—stretching from northern China to Thailand—that funnels much-needed foreign exchange into the state coffers in Pyongyang. While a visit to the reclusive Democratic People's Republic of Korea is next to impossible for most, Pyongyang offers casual diners a window into Kingdom Kim, an elaborate combination of food and culture from north of the 38th parallel.

Visitors to the restaurant are ushered into an air-conditioned, flood-lit hall filled with dozens of glass-topped tables. Unlike North Korea proper, which is wracked by economic sanctions and constant famines, the food here is fresh and abundant. The menu features specialties such as Pyongyang "cold noodle" (served encrusted with ice), barbecued cuttlefish, stringy dangogi (dog meat) soup, and countless variations on the kimchi theme, all served with glutinous white rice. Also available for sale are a series of North Korean products, including ginseng wine and some nameless bear "product" promised to increase sexual virility. All carry hefty price tags in U.S. dollars, since the Cambodian riel is not convertible outside the country.

In addition to the food, the main attraction is the group of pretty North Korean-born waitresses, who perform music and dance routines complete with tightly synchronized choreography reminiscent of North Korea's annual Mass Games. Donning traditional chima jogoiri dresses and pasted-on smiles, the pretty young women serenade diners with violins, guitars, synthesized karaoke, and Korean pansori music. The predominantly South Korean clientele claps and cheers, requesting reverb-drenched renditions of Korean pop classics.

Aside from small North Korean flags pinned to the waitresses' blouses, the restaurant is surprisingly free from overt propagandizing. Instead of paeans to the Great Leader and his revolutionary juche ideology, the walls are adorned with a series of monumental landscape paintings. One crashing seascape, rendered in an apocalyptic palette of blues, greens, and reds, recalls the painting used as a backdrop to the official photo of Kim Jong-il and Bill Clinton that was taken during Clinton's visit to Pyongyang in August. The cold flood-lighting and no-camera policy (often violated on the sly by curious Western expats) also lend an Orwellian tinge to an evening at Pyongyang, though the authoritarian mood is often broken by the sound of drunken South Korean businessmen warbling their way through the restaurant's thick karaoke catalog.

North Korean government-run restaurants have existed for years in the regions of China adjacent to the DPRK's northern border, but the 21st century has seen an expansion of the business into other parts of Asia. In 2002, the first Southeast Asian branch of Pyongyang opened in the Cambodian tourist hub of Siem Reap, and it became an immediate hit with South Korean tour groups visiting the nearby temples of Angkor. The success of the restaurant, reportedly opened by Ho Dae-sik, the local representative of the DPRK-aligned International Taekwondo Federation, led to the opening of the Phnom Penh branch in 2003. This was followed by more elaborate establishments in Bangkok and the popular Thai beach resort of Pattaya, as well as a small branch in the Laotian capital, Vientiane.

Little is known of how the restaurants operate, but experts say they are closely linked with other overseas operations run by the reclusive regime in Pyongyang. Bertil Lintner, author of Great Leader, Dear Leader: Demystifying North Korean Under the Kim Clan, says that in the early 1990s, North Korea was hit by a severe economic crisis caused by the disruption in trading ties with its former Communist allies. At that time, both the Soviet Union and China began to demand that Pyongyang pay for imports in hard currency rather than barter goods, forcing it to open "capitalist" foreign ventures to make up funding shortfalls. He says the restaurants are part of this chain of trading companies controlled by Bureau 39, the "money making" (and money-laundering) arm of the Korean Workers' Party.

"The restaurants are used to earn additional money for the government in Pyongyang—at the same time as they were suspected of laundering proceeds from North Korea's more unsavory commercial activities," he says. "Restaurants and other cash-intensive enterprises are commonly used as conduits for wads of bills, which banks otherwise would not accept as deposits."

According to reports from defectors, the eateries are operated through a network of local middlemen who are required to remit a certain amount every year to the coffers in Pyongyang. Kim Myung Ho, a North Korean defector who ran a restaurant in northern China, reported in 2007 that each establishment, affiliated with "trading companies" operated by the government, was forced to make annual fixed payments of between $10,000 and $30,000 back to the North Korean capital. "Every year, the sum total is counted at the business headquarters in Pyongyang, but if there's even a small default or lack of results, then the threat of evacuation is given," Kim told reporters from the Daily NK, a North Korean news service run by exiles and human rights activists.

Meanwhile, the DPRK provides the bevy of pale-faced—and politically sanitized—beauties who live and work on the restaurant premises. Marcus Noland, a senior fellow at the Petersen Institute of International Economics, says that all North Koreans dispatched to work in restaurants abroad are forced to undergo stringent screening for political loyalty. "It is considered a desirable achievement to be selected and have the opportunity to go abroad," he says.

A year ago, the Pyongyang restaurants in Cambodia and Thailand suddenly closed their doors, only to reopen again after a six-month hiatus. Lintner cited an Asian diplomat in Bangkok saying the restaurants, like all "capitalist" enterprises, were hit hard by the global economic crisis, but locals familiar with the establishment in Phnom Penh offered another explanation. One worker at a nearby business said Pyongyang closed after a dispute with a Cambodian customer who tried to take one of its North Korean waitresses out for "drinks" after dinner.

If true, it would not be the first time. In 2006 and 2007, Daily NK reported several incidents in which waitresses from North Korean restaurants in China's Shandong and Jilin provinces tried to defect, forcing the closure of the operations. Kim Myung Ho added that two or three DPRK security agents live onsite at each restaurant to "regulate" the workers and that any attempts at flight result in the immediate repatriation of the entire staff.

Visitors to Pyongyang can come and go as they please, eating their fill and pondering the prospect of a freer, more prosperous North Korea. But for all their smiles, the young women staffing these far-flung outposts of the reclusive state are soldiers of juche, performing their nightly ritual under constant surveillance.

Cambodia: Newspapers to rent and views to die for

Dawn breaks over the Mekong river. (Photo: AP)

Wednesday Feb 04, 2009
Andrew Spooner
The New Zealand Herald

As I sit eating a bowl of noodles, a little street kid asks in perfect English, "You want to buy a newspaper?"

"OK if you don't want to buy. I will rent to you. Only 1000 riel (47c). It costs 4000 to buy, so this is a good price. You can read for one hour. Then I will come back and collect it."

As I've only just begun slurping on my noodles, I hand over the cash and get something to read.

Given the destruction that Phnom Penh endured, the creative entrepreneurial skills of some of its poorest inhabitants are certainly inspiring. At last, it seems as though a new identity is emerging from the City of Ghosts.

What is even more surprising is that Phnom Penh is becoming decidedly sophisticated.

"Here's your passionfruit creme brulee," says the sleek, black-clad waitress. I'm sitting outside Metro, one of Phnom Penh's most popular upmarket watering holes. On the menu is an array of Asian fusion nibbles and the kind of cocktail list you'd expect in London or New York.

Yet, what London and New York can't provide is the view: Metro is on Sisowath Quay, a riverside road that fronts directly on to the point where the Tonle Sap and Mekong Rivers meet.

To grasp the full potential of Sisowath Quay you have to get up before dawn and head to the Foreign Correspondents' Club (FCC). With its open-walled cafe providing full access to the light and air of the rivers, the FCC serves its breakfast with a staggering sunrise.

"We even have a few rooms for rent," says operations manager, Michelle Duncan, "and we've just opened a new designer boutique property called The Quay a bit further down the river."

In Phnom Penh, boutique hotels are springing up like mushrooms. Many of the colonial-era French villas were left intact by the Khmer Rouge and are now being turned into funky places to stay and eat.

"When I first arrived here I never intended to be a hotelier," says Eric Weisman, a former movie producer from Los Angeles. Eric's property, the Scandinavia Hotel, on Street 282, is a small villa in central Phnom Penh with a resident modern art gallery, a cute, kidney-shaped pool and a low-key, designer vibe that uplifts without being pretentious.

But where did the name come from? "The place used to be owned by a Scandinavian expat who wanted to create a party place for his biker pals. It took a while to restore the reputation," says Eric with a grin.

In Phnom Penh there's the Spanish-managed Boddhi Tree Aram, a tiny, stylish eight-room villa, buried away on Street 244, which has become one of the most sought-after places to stay.

Then there's The Pavilion, an elegant property that has a mixed reputation largely due to a Fawltyesque management style. Back on Sisowath, and probably the pick of the bunch, is the sumptuous Amanjaya - the corner suites have the best riverside balconies in the city.

Phnom Penh also hits home on the culinary front. The bizarre North Korean Government-run Pyongyang on Monivong Boulevard - arrive in time for the surreal nightly 8pm song and dance show - serves up fantastic bulgogi steak, while the Spanish-flavoured Pacharan, on Sisowath, is a revelation.

"Seafood is so cheap here," says my waiter, as a paella arrives. "We can make it even bigger than we would back in Spain."

Soothed by the evening air of the Mekong, I've found my own little bit of heaven. I order a coffee and unwind. All I need is something to read - does anybody have a newspaper to rent?

North Korea Finds Foothold [in Cambodia] With Food

Restaurant Pyongyang in Phnom Penh (Photo: Mr. Neutron on flickr)

By Vohar Cheat, VOA Khmer
Original report from Phnom Penh
19 September 2008

As a woman performed a Korean song at Pyongyang restaurant in Phnom Penh on a recent evening, the guests toasted each other with North Korean wine and applauded. Her song was followed by performances of at least eight other women who played the violin, zither, or electronic keyboards.

At times, the women wore headphones and hands-free microphones, and at others they twirled with fans. During some songs, images of North Korean landscapes played on a widescreen television on the wall. When each performance ended, the women quickly went back to waiting on tables.

Opened in 2003, the restaurant is as close as many in Cambodia will get to secretive North Korea, a country whose relatively small amount of investment in the country belies a long relationship with Cambodia, one forged by former king Norodom Sihanouk. Meanwhile, South Korea continues to make increased investment inroads as the Cambodian economy expands.

At the Pyongyang, the work system differs from Cambodian eateries. The women sing, dance and wait tables, but they never accompany guests.

Vath Chamroeun, a Cambodian who has worked with North Korean businesses, said the workers are well-trained in many different tasks, paralleling government policies that require its workforce to do more with less.

"They are strictly controlled," he said. "Wherever they go, they go as a team. Men are teamed with men, women are teamed with women. Each team has its own leader to control the members. Even team leaders are controlled by several more higher-ranking officials."

The country has one restaurant in Phnom Penh and two in Siem Reap, he said, and little else.

While South Korea has become a ready investor in Cambodia in recent years, investment statistics for North Korean business are hard to come by.

Sou Yung, first secretary at the North Korean embassy, said he was unaware of any other businesses, and the Ministry of Commerce records show 1,750 "Korean" companies in Cambodia, without differentiating between North and South.

"We do not divide North or South, but it is very rare to see a North Korean company on the register," said Sok Sokun, head of the Commerce Ministry's foreign business registration.

Sok Chenda, secretary-general of the Cambodia Development Council, a government body that approves investment, said of the $14 million invested in Cambodia by "Korean" companies, likely none of it is from the North.

"Not only in Cambodia," he said. "North Korea is well known in the world as a country without overseas investment, because, No. 1, North Korea is a communist country and poor. The government cannot sustain its people, who are starving. No. 2, North Korea's business is handled by the state. It is not a free market."

Without economic leverage, North Korea remains a fast friend, with one of the oldest diplomatic relationships in the country. Former king Norodom Sihanouk met Kim Il-sung, the "Great Leader," in 1961, when both men attended a Non-Aligned Movement meeting in Belgrade. The two developed a personal friendship, and when Norodom Sihanouk was ousted in a US-backed coup in 1970, King Il-sung built him a palace and offered him asylum.

Cambodia has ever since been linked to North Korea, but in recent years, it is South Korea that has made inroads.

"Both the people and the government of South Korea are richer," Cheam Yiep, a Cambodian People's Party lawmaker who heads the National Assembly's committee on finance and banking, said. "Now South Korean tourist visits are No. 1, leading other countries."

South Korea has invested in private sectors such as tourism and aviation, he said, opening flights from Seoul to Phnom Penh and Siem Reap.

"We have received a lot of benefit" from the investments, he said.

Meanwhile, North Korean remains "very strict," he said. "They are afraid their people will steal secret [nuclear] technology and escape to a third country. They are very afraid of that."

North Koreans have in the past chosen Cambodia as a country of escape, but a government spokesman said that is no longer the case.

Cheam Yiep said the government's relationship with North Korean remains strong, despite its open doors to the South.

"In general, we count both North and South Korea equally," he said. "But the difference is that South Korea invests a lot more than North Korea. It is as simple as that."

At the Pyongyang restaurant, politics and economics seem to mean very little.

Manager Kil Ilva said the restaurant attracts people from around the world, Europeans, Americans, Asians and especially South Koreans, who are curious about North Korean cuisine and culture, especially the kimchi and "cool noodle" dishes.

"They like it," she said.

Chillin' at a North Korean karaoke bar

Feb 8, 2008
By Sunny Lee Asia Times (Hong Kong)

BEIJING - "Here is the gentleman's rule. You can watch the girl, but you're not allowed to touch the girl." That was the simple introduction a manager at a table-dance bar in the French Quarter, the famous nightlife district in New Orleans, once told a curious reporter.

The same "gentleman's rule" applies in a North Korean karaoke bar where North Korean girls accompany guests for drinking, singing and dancing. For the majority of readers who cannot afford to travel to the remote country, do not not despair. The North Korean leadership generously allowed some such installments in the neighboring China. So, drop by sometime. And when you come, make sure you behave like a gentleman. But where are the North Korean karaoke bars?

North Korean restaurants in China are often a sought-after destination by foreigners who want to have a "bite" of the reclusive country, while unable to visit there physically. They enter North Korean restaurants in China as if they enter a secretive treasure island. They are curious about North Korean food and order some cuisine, such as Pyongyang cold noodle. But they are invariably more curious about the workers they see there who are all beautiful waitresses busily shuttling food back and forth. Some foreign guests want to capture this rare chance of meeting North Koreans by taking pictures with these waitresses who all wear conspicuous North Korean flag insignia on their uniform, which makes the photo-op all the more memorable.

But what most of these foreign guests don't know is that that's not the end of the service these restaurants offer. When the dusk and hush of night sets in, some of these restaurants metamorphose into a karaoke bar. In the less visible corners or upstairs of the restaurant, there are private rooms where one can have a more "up-close and personal encounter" with North Korean beauties. Of course, atmosphere and styles vary, depending on which place you go.

One of them is located in the "Korean Town" section of China's capital city. It's a relatively small one. But among those who are in the know, this place is counted as the best in town.

"This is a place where we can enjoy light conversations," said a businessman as we were sitting down in a room of the karaoke bar. That was another way for him to say that these rooms were all bugged so we'd better be mindful - not to talk about "heavy" topics such as politics.

The room looks like a typical karaoke room. There are comfy cushions with a table in the center. On the one side of the room, there is a big TV screen with a karaoke machine. There is also a switch on the wall that can make the room light dimmer, to meet the "needs" of the customer.

Soon, two North Korean girls entered the room. One is Park Hee-kyung and the other is Kim Ju-myung (not real names), both of them in their early 20s. They sat down next to us, but not as closely as you might be erroneously visualizing in your head. They were well trained for such an occasion. And they knew that it's polite to give the two gentlemen in the room some space for themselves. Park and Kim gently poured the imported Pyongyang wine into our glasses and served fruit on our plates.

We took turns to sing. The North Korean ladies were amazing. They knew most of the very popular South Korean songs, even requested some for us to sing. They also sang Chinese songs as well as North Korean ones. Kim was apparently so good at music that she was adding soprano chord to the businessman's voice, creating a beautiful duet. But the highlight of the night came when one of them, Park, played violin to the theme song of the movie Titanic.

When later the girls were out of the room for a few minutes, the businessman said, "These girls are all specially selected people from North Korea. They are very exquisite and well-trained. I like brining my business clients here once in a while because of their top-quality service. Besides, they understand your jokes and make intelligent responses. It's a rarity in karaoke girls."

The businessman later got into a sort of a word scrimmage with Park when he said, "Your biolin sound is so good." "It's violin," Park corrected the businessman's pronunciation by exaggerating the "v" sound. "Ah, yeah, violin, not biolin," the businessman replied. Strangely, that created a rapport between the two.

Throughout their interaction, the businessman was addressing Park and Kim with honorific terms. The Korean language is notoriously complicated. Depending on the other party's age, there are different ways of addressing the other. If the other party is older than you, one is expected to use honorific terms. If the other person is younger than you, yet when you two are in a formal relationship, then you are also expected to address the other person in honorific terms to show respect. In addition to using the honorific terms, the businessman was also feigning his intonation slightly closer to the North Korean accent.

Later, when this observation was brought up to him, the businessman said: "You don't have to butter them up. But when you let them know you treat them with respect, they get disarmed and they will reveal their more human side. Eventually, you'll enjoy your time here. Respect is the most powerful weapon to disarm people," he said.

There were times years back when South Koreans travelling abroad avoided North Korean restaurants or even ran way from them for fear of the possibility of being kidnapped by North Korean agents. Now, years later, South Koreans make up the largest customer group to visit North Korean restaurants. In China, for example, as much as 80% of all customers to North Korean restaurants are South Korean tourists.

North Korea has some 100 restaurants overseas, mostly in China and Southeast Asia, including Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. These restaurants serve as an important revenue pipeline for earning foreign currencies for Pyongyang. Each overseas North Korean restaurant is said to be allotted a revenue quota to fill, ranging from US$100,000 to $300,000 a year to send to Pyongyang, which makes the total revenue estimation some tens of millions of dollars.

The business formula - restaurant by day and karaoke bar by night - is also seen as an effort for these restaurants to meet the assigned financial quota. Currently, there are scores of North Korean restaurants in China, including in cities such as Beijing, Tianjin, Tsingdao, Dandong and Yanji. Beijing has 11 North Korean restaurants. All of these employ North Koreans whose total employment number in China is estimated to be several hundred.

The reason that North Korean restaurants are expensive yet remain popular among customers is their immaculate service from beautiful employees. In China, where service quality at restaurants is often unsatisfactory, North Korean restaurants are becoming a favorite alternative among members of the businesses community.

The businessman said, "You see? The waitresses working here can all speak two foreign languages: English and Chinese. They sing and dance professionally. They are all graduates of top universities in Pyongyang. When you make a joke, they can intelligently strike back with a punch line and often with a good sense of humor. They are not like other karaoke girls."

He continued, "But what they end up doing is working at a karaoke bar in a foreign country like this one. Can you imagine a female graduate of Seoul National University [South Korea's top university] working in a place like this? This is very sad."

The night was still young, so we thought. But the clock was already pointing to 2am. We said our good-byes to the two gorgeous North Korean comrades. As we were walking towards the main exit door, the 21-year-old Park came out to make a farewell gesture to the businessman once more. Although she had only drunk some fruit juice that night, her face was flushed.

"I think she really likes you," I half-jokingly said to the businessman. He didn't reply, but said, "Beijing is already a very free city compared to Pyongyang. Once they taste freedom, it will change them. They won't remain the same people."

Sunny Lee is a writer based in Beijing, where he has lived for five years. A native of South Korea, Lee is a graduate of Harvard University and Beijing Foreign Studies University.

Dining at Pyongyang ... in the middle of Cambodia's heartland

28 April 2007
North Korean restaurants in Cambodia draw South Korean tourists

By Channel NewsAsia's Indochina correspondent Anasuya Sanyal

SIEM REAP : It's a dining experience that few get to try, but North Korean restaurants do exist in Cambodia, serving South Korean tourists on holiday in the closed-off nation.

Cambodia is a country known for famine rather than feasts.

North Korea, a pariah state to the rest of world, has long-standing diplomatic ties with Cambodia, where several North Korean restaurants dot the road from the airport in Siem Reap.

It's a way for the North to get hard currency, as the Cambodian economy runs largely on US dollars, as well as a way to make overtures of friendship on neutral ground.

Since many South Korean tourists can't get a real taste of the North back home, they make Pyongyang Restaurant a stop on their holiday tours.

"Our reason for coming here is that we can't see North Koreans in South Korea, but we have the chance here in Cambodia," says Leena Sin, a South Korean tourist.

Waitresses dressed in identical hanboks (Korean traditional dresses) set the tables for the tourist hordes which start to arrive around 6 pm.

A waitress from Pyongyang says she is proud to work at the restaurant.

In fact, it is an honor to be chosen to be permitted to work abroad, though the waitresses reportedly live on the premises and are strictly controlled.

Entertainment comes in the form of karaoke songs popular with both North and South Koreans.

The audience is enthusiastic, though it seems more like a talent competition than entertainment.

When people from the North and South encounter each other, there is always talk of reconciliation.

The young waitresses say many South Koreans are ambivalent about the painful and complicated issue, but it doesn't stop them from being curious about their Northern neighbours.