"Was the hotel ok? Did you have electricity? Water? Food? Were the rooms bugged? Could you leave?" People are always curious about our hotel in ways I've never heard after trips to other countries. The hotel, while far from luxurious, was fine. Though the anti-US and anti-Japanese photo displays in the lobby next to check-in were somewhat less than welcoming.

The hotel, complete with meeting rooms, restaurants, a nightclub, and a revolving bar at the top, is located on a small island in the center of the Taedong River. Relatively isolated, with the only connections to the rest of the city being two bridges, the hotel seemed a perfect spot to house foreigners. Though free to walk the grounds any attempt to leave the island was regulated by our guides and the guards on the premises. We could leave - as long as we had permission and went with one of our guides.

That first day after we arrived the guides oversaw check-in and divvied us up, two per room. They were very clear on wanting to know who was going to be in which room - no switching once we'd gotten our keys.

Before we were allowed to go up to our rooms we first had to decide which class of tickets we wanted for the Arirang performance. We'd seen signs and heard from the guides about how great the show was and we were all looking forward to our chance to see it in person.

The hitch was which tickets. They ranged in price from $50 to $300. Our travel agent in Beijing had warned us we'd have to choose shortly after arrival.

He'd also been kind enough to tell us there was little difference between the $100 and $50 seats, and that both were fine. At the time we'd discussed it and decided on the cheap seats - $50. Here in the North though the guides weren't so helpful. They'd obviously sized us up as lower-priced buyers so they split our German and American group away from the Japanese and, after a brief explanation, urged us to get the $100 tickets.

Front row at a football game? Okay, maybe I'll pay $100. To see the Arirang Festival? Not going to happen. A look of consternation passed over Mr. Baek's and Mr. Huk's faces when we said we wanted the $50 seats. "Yes, that's possible, but I think there aren't many Americans that come here. If you only buy the $50 seats then everyone will see you and maybe you'll embarrass your country . . . "

Of all the things I've done that could be considered embarrassing to America (not that many by the way - any time something weird happens I always say I'm French . . .) this one seemed pretty benign. Our German comrades concurred and we stuck with $50 a ticket, much to the chagrin of our guides.

The more I think about it the more I get the distinct impression that the guides were judged by how well they sold the Arirang tickets, obviously the more high-priced seats, the better. For some time after this they seemed somewhat surly. I don't think it helped that the Japanese group also went with the cheap seats.