A Capitalist in North Korea: My Seven Years in the Hermit by Felix Abt

By Felix Abt

Company in North Korea: a paradoxical and interesting state of affairs is interpreted through a real insider.

In 2002, the Swiss-Swedish energy corporation ABB appointed Felix Abt its state director for North Korea. The Swiss Entrepreneur lived and labored in North Korea for seven years, one of many few international businessmen there. After the adventure, Abt felt pressured to write down A Capitalist in North Korea to explain the multifaceted society he encountered.

North Korea, on the time, was once seriously sanctioned through the UN, which made it super tricky to do company. but, he stumbled on that it was once a spot the place cosmetic surgery and South Korean television dramas have been wildly renowned and the place he infrequently had to stroll greater than a block to snatch a short hamburger. He was once heavily monitored, and as soon as confronted accusations of spying, but he discovered that younger North Koreans are hopeful - signing up for enterprise classes in anticipation of a brighter, extra open, destiny. In A Capitalist in North Korea, Abt stocks those and plenty of different strange evidence and insights approximately one of many world's such a lot secretive countries.

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At that point, the woman walked out of the bathroom naked, and shrieked. She tried to cover herself up—all knockers and skin everywhere almost independently trying to escape her—like she was a vet’s assistant bungling her way through her first day, mishandling a litter of recalcitrant piglets. I watched her and pressed record on the ol’ brain box. “Intriguing,” I thought. My dad gave me the money through the window. He didn’t seem bothered or embarrassed by the whole thing at all. He was just muddling through life, was dear Ron Brand.

So in the early ‘80s to see live ant-eating was pretty much akin to some of the more ostentatious hoopla peddled by that goon David Copperfield (magician, not eponymous Dickens hero). But I only did it for the amusement of others—I never, ever ate ants alone. I was a social ant-eater, never an ant-wanker. I ain’t never really had much fun. I particularly dislike preordained happy occasions. I don’t mind Christmas so much, because everyone’s involved, as long as they’re Christians or lazy atheists, or Muslim but into tinsel.

I was lucky to have a place where my fantasy life could manifest itself. There was one bit that was all red sands, like Luke Skywalker’s home planet. And, with all the lakes and chalk mountains, it wouldn’t have surprised me to look up and see two moons. It just seemed extraordinary that you could be in gray, desolate, suburban Essex, and there would be something so exotic so nearby. Apart from the wilderness over the road, the psychogeography of Grays was basically irrelevant to me. There’s not a particular cultural identity to growing up in industrial Essex, and southern suburbia in general: it’s just very banal.

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