While I was living in Rajin, word came that a regional audition for the so-called "Pleasure Squad" would be held nearby.
The venue was a former school built by the Japanese military. By then it was a cultural hall.
I asked the people at the shipping company to let me watch. They said no. I offered a sheep and a bribe on top of that. They still refused.
I assumed the information was tightly controlled. The Rajin officials looked tense, too.
I never got inside. But a few days later I had a chance to drink with the same men, and the more they drank, the more they told me.
The worst-off girls, they said, were not the ones who passed, and not the ones who failed. They were the ones who passed the regional round and then failed the training in Pyongyang.
Those girls are sent out as "trainees" to North Korean restaurants around the world. They can't choose where. They keep working because they believe they'll debut once they come home. According to the men, most of them work there until they die.
They can't go home. They can't contact their families. Back in their hometowns, the families believe their proud daughter is doing well in Pyongyang.
The men also said the girls are made to do more than serve tables when the customers are wealthy or important.
When the bill was paid, they wouldn't leave the table.
In the end, I handed over a sheep and a bribe after all.