With the death of dictator Kim Jong Il, his son has inherited a country facing an uncertain future -- one where many now dream of prosperity and Western luxury. What will the rise of Kim Jong Un mean for future relations with neighboring South Korea and countries farther afield?

It was an icy evening, with temperatures below zero, and yet there was no question that they would remove their coats before walking up to the statue of Kim Il Sung. It was what they had been taught, as a sign of respect, and that was exactly what they did on Monday, after a news anchor, choking back the tears, had announced that the "Dear Leader" was dead.

Mothers with children, students, office workers, construction crews -- thousands climbed the wide steps up to the floodlit statue in Pyongyang, many holding white chrysanthemums in their hands. Some of the mourners had come straight from their jobs at collectives, and they were still carrying small backpacks and bags as they walked up the steps.

The mourners silently formed a loose chain along the steps. They were not holding each other's hands, but were simply standing there, some of their faces wet with tears.

A short distance away, a foreigner observed the scene. He had been working in North Korea for several years, but on this evening, he says, he felt like more of a stranger than ever before.

The chaos that foreign experts had been predicting for years did not materialize. It was almost as if the "Dear Leader" was still alive, and as if North Korea's former godlike ruler were also directing the mass act of mourning in the capital Pyongyang, which always seems like the unreal set of a propaganda film.