North Koreans celebrate leader amid tensions

This week Pyongyang is a city in a frenzy of preparation.

At times the crowds of people thronging the sidewalks have turned the streets into a blaze of colour – the women, vivid explosions of rainbow hues in their traditional Korean dresses, and the men, although black or grey suited, carrying large artificial pink and red flowers.

These plastic, pom-pom like azaleas are used for waving in the ritualised adulation of their leader for which they are now so busy rehearsing.

Some sit in large groups waiting for instructions, others walk purposefully to or from the parade ground, chatting or laughing together along the streets of a capital city that is still largely devoid of traffic.

Antiquated army trucks with open tops trundle into town, in convoys dozens long, each packed with soldiers in uniform.

There’s a relaxed, holiday feel: the female conscripts, separated in their own trucks, smiling and waving at passers-by, the male troops singing merrily in unison.

It gives this city the air of a giant film set for a war-time period costume drama.

But in the world’s last truly totalitarian state, this is the reality.