“Do you have any plans for lunch?”
All I could see was my Bangladeshi colleague’s smiling face peeking at an angle through the door. I was seated on a kitchen chair, the only piece of furniture in the bedroom that was to serve as my office. I was glad for the interruption, because I had difficulty making sense of the file of “monitoring reports” balanced precariously on my knees.“I was going to ask you where you go for lunch around here,” I responded. The diplomatic compound where the UN offices were located seemed devoid of commercial establishments.
“Normally I eat at home or at the diplomatic club,” said Mahbub, “but today I am going to Nampo port. Do you have your passport with you?”
“The blue one?”
“My Canadian passport.”
“Mmm, that might be a problem. I will check with FDRC.”
The FDRC was the unit in the Foreign Affairs Ministry that served as official DPRK counterpart to all humanitarian agencies following the 1995 floods. This was in the early days of the relationship, a time when the FDRC was still learning by trial and error how to navigate the precarious fissure between the requirements of foreign agencies and the constraints of domestic regimen. (…)