​The Guardian recently reported on the lavish renovations at North Korea’s May Day Stadium, the largest stadium in the world. 

The changes, including a brand new soccer training annex and FIFA logos on the walls, are just the latest example of North Korea’s push to modernize its sports facilities. Of course, this is yet another sign of North Korea’s aspirations to host part of the World Cup and Olympic Games, or even the entire competition. This serves its overall goal of gaining credibility and  international respect for its athletics.

North Korea has an interesting history when it comes to athletics. Included in this is a multitude of Olympic gold medals, as well as a surpassing of expectations in the 1966 World Cup, in which the North Korean team made its way to the quarterfinals. North Korean athletes who succeed come back home as revered heroes and receive rewards in the form of  money, or gifts of some sort, usually a car.

These victories are extremely important to the regime in North Korea, where “any success [by North Korean athletes at the Olympics] will be used extensively for propaganda purposes" in order to bolster the cult of personality surrounding Kim Jong-un, as Executive Director of HRNK Greg Scarlatoiu explained. Unfortunately, North Korean athletes and coaches face serious consequences if they do not perform to the regime’s expectations. North Korean law actually dictates that:
 
“A person who does not rightly select athletes for important competitions, resulting in serious consequences shall be punished by short-term labour for less than two years. In cases where the person commits a grave offence, he or she shall be punished by reform through labour for less than five years.”
                        -Article 206 (Unjust Selection of Athletes) of the 2009 DPRK Criminal Code
 
The luckiest of the losing athletes who return to North Korea are faced with public humiliations, as was the case with the 2010 World Cup Team,  accused of failure and betrayal of the regime. The team’s coach, Kim Jong-hun, was even stripped of his party membership and sentenced to hard labor at a construction site as punishment.  

Others have fared even worse, and there have been various reports of failed athletes being sent to the political prison camps as punishment for their performances. According to the Chosun Ilbo, “A South Korean intelligence source said, ‘[i]n the past, North Korean athletes and coaches who performed badly were sent to prison camps.’” Even the victors of the 1966 World Cup were allegedly subjected to political purges the following year by Kim Il-Sung, where many wound up being sent to prison camps. Prisoners of these camps face terrible conditions and unspeakable horrors. In 2002, documentarian Nicholas Bonner released the film, The Game of Their Lives, chronicling the victory of the 1966 World Cup team over Italy. The film features interviews with seven members of the team who are alive and well in North Korea. However, other team member’s whereabouts are unknown.
 
If North Korea wishes to gain the respect of the international community, it must do so with real and meaningful changes, starting first and foremost with drastic reform of its prison system. No matter how large, elegant, or modern North Korea’s new sports facilities may look, they will never be able to fully mask the atrocities that they attempt to hide. 

By HRNK Research Intern Christopher Motola

Radio Free Asia (RFA) recently reported that a new central policy was issued to North Korean healthcare workers on October 8, 2015, directing gynecologists not to perform abortions or implant birth control devices in their patients, and stating that birth control measures are illegal. Evidence suggests, however, that forced abortions are carried out in North Korea’s detention facilities, especially when the unborn baby is suspected to be “half-Chinese.” As HRNK has uncovered repeatedly in its research and reports, most recently in The Hidden Gulag IV: Gender Repression & Prisoner Disappearances by David Hawk, forced abortions are just one horrifying tactic the North Korean regime implements against women, something Mr. Hawk refers to in his report as a component of “gender repression.” Ms. Kim Min-ji, a former North Korean prisoner interviewed by Hawk, witnessed forced abortions during both of her forcible repatriations from China to North Korea. “The first time, in 2008, a pregnant woman was forced to take some medicine, after which the baby was aborted. The second time, in 2012, the holding center authorities had a baby surgically removed from the womb of a woman who was in the ‘last days of pregnancy.’ The baby was killed.”[1]

While this post is not meant to analyze the pros and cons of a state ban on abortion, it is meant to highlight the hypocrisy and discrepancy created by this reportedly new anti-abortion and family planning policy and the inhuman practice of committing forced abortions inside North Korea’s detention facilities. According to one RFA source, “‘Punishments for those who perform illegal abortions and use contraceptive devices are already in place, but this new policy bans all kinds of abortions and birth control procedures, including even those performed at hospitals.’” Reported punishments for violating this policy include imprisonment for up to three years and heavy fines. Although the article predicts that the policy will not be effective in curbing these practices, it also highlights the apparent rationale behind the Kim regime’s policy: to hinder a “rapidly” declining birthrate.[2]

Data from The World Bank, however, suggests a slowly declining birth rate as opposed to a “rapidly” declining birth rate. According to the data, in 2012, North Korea hit its lowest birth rate at 14.36 births per 1,000 people, but interestingly, the CIA’s World Factbook estimates that North Korea’s current birth rate in 2015 is actually 14.52 births/1,000, indicating a slight increase. When contrasted with South Korea’s birth rate, which has also declined since the 1960s and had a 2013 rate of 8.6 births per 1,000 people, as the graph below depicts, North Korea has a higher birth rate. On its face, the new anti-abortion and birth control policy may be about countering a low birth rate in North Korea, but the regime may have other incentives for controlling its people in this way. As HRNK’s Executive Director, Greg Scarlatoiu, suggests, perhaps the policy has been implemented to “artificially increase the population, currently half that of South Korea's.”

The World Bank’s data showing North Korea’s declining birth rate over the years.
Credit: theGlobalEconomy.com[3]

The World Bank’s data showing South Korea’s declining birth rate over the years.
Credit: theGlobalEconomy.com[4]

In striking contrast to this anti-abortion policy, though, former North Korean prisoner testimony documented in HRNK’s reports, such as in the aforementioned The Hidden Gulag IV (2015) and in The Hidden Gulag Second Edition (2012), and also published on this site under the “Victims” tab, tells the gruesome memories of severe trauma faced by former political prisoners. Mrs. Bang Mi-sun, during her pretrial detention experience in North Korea, recalled that:

In early 2002, at Musan An-jeon-bu, there was a group of ten pregnant women who were going to be taken to the local hospital to abort their “half-Chinese” babies. One twenty-one year old, who was seven months pregnant, refused to go to the hospital to give up the baby growing inside her. The guards put her on the floor on her back and placed a board over her swollen womb, and pistol-whipped two male prisoners until they agreed to jump up and down on the board. After five minutes or so, the baby was aborted, and the woman was taken to the hospital where she died. Mrs. Bang learned of her death when she was taken to the hospital for more treatments for her infected leg.

Mrs. Bang Mi-Sun, former North Korean political prisoner, showing her scarred leg.
© Committee for Human Rights in North Korea (HRNK)

Testimony from the United Nations Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (UN COI) produced more of the same shocking stories of forced abortions in North Korea’s detention facilities reminiscent of the Nazi concentration camps. One witness recollected:

…there was this pregnant woman who was about 9 months pregnant. She worked all day. The babies who were born were usually dead, but in this case the baby was born alive. The baby was crying as it was born; we were so curious, this was the first time we saw a baby being born. So we were watching this baby and we were so happy. But suddenly we heard the footsteps. The security agent came in and this agent of the Bowibu [State Security Department] said that… usually when a baby is born we would wash it in a bowl of water, but this agent told us to put the baby in the water upside down. So the mother was begging. ‘I was told that I would not be able to have the baby, but I actually got lucky and got pregnant so let me keep the baby, please forgive me’, but this agent kept beating this woman, the mother who just gave birth. And the baby, since it was just born, it was just crying. And the mother, with her shaking hands she picked up the baby and she put the baby face down in the water. The baby stopped crying and we saw this water bubble coming out of the mouth of the baby. And there was an old lady who helped with the labour, she picked up the baby from the bowl of water and left the room quietly. So those kind of things repeatedly happened. That was in the detention centre in the city of Chongjin of Hamgyong Province.[5]
 
Unfortunately, the State’s efforts to control life and death in North Korea amount to, at the least, a disproportionate impact on women, characterized as gender discrimination and repression, and at the most, sexual violence in the prison camps at such a gravity to constitute crimes against humanity. The findings of the UN COI concluded the same in its 2014 report: “In the political prison camps of [North Korea], the inmate population has been gradually eliminated through deliberate starvation, forced labour, executions, torture, rape and the denial of reproductive rights enforced through punishment, forced abortion and infanticide….These crimes against humanity entail extermination, murder, enslavement, torture, imprisonment, rape, forced abortions and other sexual violence…” (emphasis added). The violent and inhuman state-sanctioned practice of forced abortions inside the detention facilities “regularly subject[s] women to a level of intentional and severe mental and physical suffering that satisfies the threshold of torture as defined under article 7 of the ICCPR.”[6] Furthermore, forced abortions violate the right of physical integrity and security of person, as well as sexual and reproductive rights.[7]

Clearly, the North Korean regime does not consider its inmate population as entitled to the same rights as its regular citizens, even when it comes to imposing restrictions on birth control and abortion. The UN COI noted that North Korea even contravenes its own domestic law, “which prohibits the detention of women three months before or seven months after giving birth.”[8] This almost inherent discrimination is further exacerbated by the regime’s social class system, known as songbun, which views prisoners, particularly political prisoners, as having the lowest songbun (the hostile class) and the least perceived loyalty to the regime.

The North Korean regime might improve its declining birth rate if, for one, it stopped the horrendous practice of forced abortions inside its prison camps and did not detain innocent minors or pregnant women. Of course, for its regular citizens, creating a better economy–including providing adequate amounts of food and lowering the costs associated with schooling–would likely increase its birth rate too. In this case, adhering to basic human rights norms would give the regime what it wants: more North Korean citizens. Instead, the regime has chosen yet another method of controlling its citizens with this new policy that hypocritically ignores the ongoing state practice of forced abortions inside North Korea’s prison camp system. The North Korean regime is effectively ‘shooting itself in the foot’ by continuing to victimize women and unborn children inside its prison walls.
 
​
By HRNK Project Officer Amanda Mortwedt Oh



[1] David Hawk, The Hidden Gulag IV: Gender Repression & Prisoner Disappearances, 121 (Washington, D.C.: Committee for Human Rights in North Korea, 2015), available at https://www.hrnk.org/uploads/pdfs/Hawk_HiddenGulag4_FINAL.pdf.

[2] The CIA’s World Factbook estimates that North Korea’s birth rate in for 2015 is 14.52 births/1,000 population,
https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/fields/2054.html#kn.
 
[3] North Korea Birth rate, TheGlobalEconomy.com, accessed October 22, 2015, http://www.theglobaleconomy.com/North-Korea/Birth_rate/.
 
[4] South Korea Birth rate, TheGlobalEconomy.com, accessed October 22, 2015, http://www.theglobaleconomy.com/South-Korea/Birth_rate/.

[5] Report of the detailed findings of the commission of inquiry on human rights in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, UN Human Rights Council, 25th sess., Agenda Item 4, UN Doc. A/HRC/25/CRP.1, 126 (7 February 2014), available at http://www.ohchr.org/EN/HRBodies/HRC/CoIDPRK/Pages/ReportoftheCommissionofInquiryDPRK.aspx.

[6] Id. Article 1 of the Convention against Torture, which also informs the definition of torture under ICCPR, article 7, defines torture as any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession, punishing him for an act he or a third person has committed or is suspected of having committed, or intimidating or coercing him or a third person, or for any reason based on discrimination of any kind, when such pain or suffering is inflicted by or at the instigation of or with the consent or acquiescence of a public official or other person acting in an official capacity. On the recognition of forced abortion as an act of torture see the reports of successive Special Rapporteurs on Torture and other Cruel, Inhuman and Degrading Treatment, A/HRC/22/53 (2013), para. 48; A/HRC/7/3, para. 69. See also Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 28, CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.10, para. 11.

[7] Id. See Special Rapporteur on Violence against Women, its Causes and Consequences, E/CN.4/1999/68/Add.4, paras. 45, 49. See also Beijing Platform for Action, adopted at the Fourth World Conference for Women (1995), para. 115; Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women, General Recommendation 19, A/47/38, para. 22; CEDAW/C/CHN/CO/6, para. 32.

[8] Id. at 126, citing The People’s Safety Enforcement Law (1992), Article 50, Clause 3.

In our Former Prisoner Testimony section, we highlight notable accounts of people who were previously imprisoned in North Korea’s prisons. Two of the accounts are particularly striking. The stories of Ms. Bang Mi-sun and Ms. Ji Hae-Nam stand out not only because of their horrifying experience in the kyo-hwa-so (prison labor camps), but because of another element that is not usually mentioned when discussing North Korea–China. The North Korean people face countless struggles every single day, yet the source of their hardship is not solely the Kim Regime. The harsh reality is that even immediate escape from North Korea does not mean a relief from the nightmare. Instead, the situation is akin to the expression of going “out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

            During the famine of the 1990s, when North Korea’s Public Distribution System collapsed and starvation was rampant, many North Koreans had little choice but to cross over into China in search of food and employment. Such was the case of Ms. Bang Mi-sun. However, instead of supporting these escapees, the Chinese government forcibly repatriates them back to North Korea. In order to avoid this situation, Ms. Bang entered into a marriage to a Chinese man, brokered by human traffickers. She was later kidnapped by other traffickers, who again sold her into a marriage where she faced unspeakably horrendous sexual abuse that seriously impacted her health. She was eventually caught by the Chinese police and sent back to North Korea (without receiving proper medical care), where she would go on to face the hardships of the prison system. Similarly, Ms. Ji escaped North Korea, only to be forced to endure sexual slavery for seven months in China, all before being repatriated back to North Korea.

            The North Korean people are some of the strongest and most enduring people on the planet. Many have gone through the worst trials and tribulations imaginable, just to escape North Korea. They deserve our respect, as well as our compassion, assistance, and care. However, they face similar, if not worse conditions in China, where their human rights are still not recognized. Instead of allowing them to be vulnerable to sexual exploitation or threatened with deportation, the Chinese government should work to assist these brave escapees and help to make the long and arduous path to freedom end at the Chinese border, instead of making it the second leg of an impossible race.

            If you are interested in learning more about conditions for North Korean defectors in China, please visit HRNK.org and look at our report Lives for Sale: Personal Accounts of Women Fleeing North Korea to China.

By HRNK Research Intern Christopher Motola 

Just a few days ago, the North Korean regime denied accusations of human rights abuses by the United Nations. In fact, its spokesperson defended North Korea’s human rights record, stating “North Korea guarantees ‘true freedom and rights’ to its people.” Further, North Korea argued that the accusations lacked legitimacy and were a calculated part of a “political maneuver aimed at overthrowing the regime.” Unfortunately for the North Korean government, the irrefutable evidence of abuse by the Kim regime has been well documented. In particular, human rights investigator David Hawk has worked through HRNK for over a decade to shed light on North Korea’s prison camp system through former prisoner testimony and satellite imagery in the Hidden Gulag series.

Although the denial from the regime may be frustrating (yet predictable), the truth is that progress is actually being made. The vociferous response from the regime clearly shows the fear it has regarding the increased focus and evidence of its human rights violations. In order to stay in power, the regime relies on strict and total information control. It is this philosophy that gets their citizens killed or imprisoned for consuming foreign media of any kind, especially from South Korea or the United States. Exposure to outside media or information helps to close the knowledge gap that the regime thrives on to survive. These revelations are, in a way, a lifting of the curtain. When presented with evidence of their atrocities, there is no choice for the regime but complete and total denial. Despite this, it is clear that progress is being made. Through the release of more and more evidence, an extraordinary amount of pressure is inevitably placed on the North Korean government. Slowly but surely, human rights advocates have used information and evidence like this in order to inspire the international community to take action, as well as force North Korea into a smaller and smaller corner. Recently, David Hawk sat down with HRNK to discuss the importance of this very process, stating: 

"It is a well-established principle of contemporary international law that those who commit atrocities should be held accountable and should be asked to account for the violations of human rights that are so severe that they are considered to be atrocity crimes. That has to be done primarily through the efforts of other UN Member States. It’s at this point only other governments that can demand from North Korea that North Korea hold accountable those who are responsible. There are institutions and mechanisms for doing this that, as of December of last year, are employed. An overwhelming majority of Member States in the General Assembly passed a resolution requesting the UN Security Council to refer the North Korean human rights situation to the International Criminal Court for its investigation and its prosecution of those who are responsible. It’s the Member States of the UN that have to continue to pressure North Korea to improve its human rights situation and to cease these criminal violations and to bring those who are accountable to justice. We are a long way from that happening, but it’s only since the international community took these measures in 2014 to raise the issue of accountability and obtaining an account of these dreadful ongoing violations that the North Korean regime has responded at all to the concerns of the international community. Prior to this there had been a decade of resolutions at the UN Human Rights Council, there had been a decade of reports by the Special Rapporteur, there had been a decade of resolutions at the General Assembly, and North Korea ignored all of that, all of those resolutions, all of those reports. It’s only when the international community raised the issue of accountability that the North Koreans responded."

Even while the North Korean regime denies its wrongdoing, history has shown us that it is ultimately fighting a losing battle.

By Sung-chul Kim
Edited by Rosa Park, Bomi Im and Megan Lee
(reprinted from hrnkinsider.org on June 20, 2013)

In North Korea
Musan district in North Hamgyong province of North Korea, the coldest part of the Korean peninsula, is my birthplace. It was also my home for seventeen years and now, where all my childhood memories continue to reside. Notwithstanding its chilly temperature, I want to visit my hometown and native land at least once before I die. Every spring, apricot blossoms and azalea flowers still managed to bloom on the hill in front of my house. As a student, I would idyllically smoke with friends. Of course, if we were caught, our teacher forced us to chew those same cigarettes while still lit. On holidays, I could hear the sounds of rice-cake making—the wooden mallet pounding the rice paste—seemingly coming from around every house, and the smoke from chimneys wafted through the village. I would also go door to door, bowing to the village elders—it is customary in Korea to receive money from elders by presenting them with formal bows, especially on given holidays. Naturally, my mother was also diligent in taking all the money I received.

When confronted with the “Great Famine” of the 1990s, our family could no longer maintain our usual standard of living, but we weren’t the only ones. Many people died from starvation or disease. Some North Koreans managed to subsist by farming their small plots of land. In 1998, my father passed away and my mother, dismissed from her job, went to China to earn money. In the past, my mother had tirelessly tried to obtain a highly coveted “Workers’ Party membership card,” but my father’s political background ultimately barred her. According to my mother, my grandfather and uncle on my father’s side of the family disappeared—presumably sent to the gulag—after insulting the regime. As a result, my parents had maintained a tenuous relationship, and my mother always harbored some bitterness towards my father. After my mother left for China, my brother and I had no choice but to live in an orphanage where we did labor-intensive and difficult work. Using a saw, axe, and rope, we logged on a mountain for at least 5-6 hours, even on cold winter days.

In 2001, three years after my mother left for China, she was arrested by the Chinese and forcibly repatriated to North Korea. After her return, she again fled to China, but this time I followed her. When my stomach started to fill with food, I began missing my home and friends, and I finally made up my mind to go back, despite my mother’s protests. From the Chinese side, I waited patiently while a line of North Korean soldiers walked along the Tumen River and disappeared. After a few moments, I quickly crossed the river and hid behind some reeds. Wanting to scout out my path, I slowly looked over the reeds. To my surprise, I was staring straight at three North Korean soldiers, who also looked shocked to see me. The North Korean authorities arrested me for the first time, but it would not be the last. I would go to China again and be forcibly repatriated to North Korea two months later with my mother because my neighbors in China reported us. I was repatriated twice more after that.

The State Security Department (SSD) Bo-wi-bu “보위부”

As soon as my mother and I walked into the detention center (“State Political Security Department”), we were suddenly robbed of our identity as human beings. The sounds of tortured people came from many places. I heard an agonizing “I profusely apologize” exclaimed in formal Korean, an officer shouted, “[Curse], how many times have you gone?” “Kneel!,” “You like the Chinese [curse] that much? “You’re lying!” and “Tell me again, why did you go?” Needless to say, hearing all the shouting and sounds of pain stunned me; not surprisingly, I began to grow very afraid. I broke out in a cold sweat, dripping down my back, and the strength drained from my legs so I could barely stand. I did not dare look any officer in the eye. None of the prisoners wore shoes and all were forced to sit or kneel. To move, everyone, including the elderly, had to crawl on the floor. We were still standing at that point, but right at that moment, I heard a prison officer shout at us to “Kneel on the ground [curse]!” and we submissively kneeled. They then divided us into two groups, one group of adults and one group of children. The adults were taken to cells, and the children were taken to an office. My mother was among the adults to crawl towards the cell, and we were separated once more.

The officer interrogated me, demanding to know why I had gone to China, how and who had led me to China, and where my hometown was located. I was forced to answer these questions while kneeling on the ground. I told him that my father passed away, I was searching for my missing mother, I went to China in search of food, and probably mumbled something about my hometown. In fact, when my mother and I were in the Chinese prison, my mother had instructed me to say that I went looking for her because I was hungry, and she told me I would likely be released based on my young age. Police officers then tortured and beat me violently. Perhaps one officer grew tired of hitting me because he then ordered me to bang my own head against the wall. As I hit my head against the wall, he ordered me to slam it harder because the sound of the impact did not satisfy him. Obediently, I hit my head against the wall with a louder thump. He then asked me, “Do you know why I told you to hit your head against the wall?” and I answered, “I do not know.” “It is to absolve you of your betrayal of the Democratic People’s Republic [of Korea] by leaving and learning about capitalism in China.” After two hours of questioning, the officer finally dismissed me to the “guhoso” or medical relief station, reducing my penalty based on my young age.

I was able to eat two meals a day in the medical relief center. There were children the same age as me. The next day, I was instructed to log on a mountainside with others. I wanted to run away, but could not really figure out how. Eventually, in order to escape, I traded in my nicer Chinese clothing for cheaper clothing and for money to bribe the guard overseeing our logging. I promptly took the train, or rather, furtively hung from the bottom of one headed towards Musan. After arriving I really wanted to see my brother, but I did not search for him because I did want to appear as a beggar before him. I slept in the waiting room of the train station that night.

The next morning, a man slightly my senior suggested that we go to China together. In desperation, I convinced myself that he was trustworthy and followed him. We went to the outskirts of China in Helong, but I found myself sold as a laborer to a farm. I worked every single day. Ostensibly, a cow became my only constant friend. With this cow, I plowed the fields and carried the wood I had logged on a mountain. I slept in a small thatched cottage hidden in the hills.

Prior to my third repatriation, I was visiting an acquaintance who worked nearby when a public security officer burst into his home and we were arrested. It was my third repatriation to North Korea. After encountering the Chinese “byunbangdae” (upper-level border patrol), I was sent to three different hierarchies of police: political, security, and detention). I ran away from the detention police, and returned to Helong, but I was arrested while in Yongjun, based on accusations made by an informant of the Chinese authorities. By the fourth repatriation, I strangely felt familiar with the process, despite the increasingly brutal punishment I was receiving.

A Dream of Hope: South Korea

In December 2006, I arrived in South Korea after my fourth repatriation. After a month-long investigation at the South Korean National Intelligence Service, I studied at Hanawon—the training center for former North Koreans—for three months, graduating in April. Since then, I began having many dreams. I wanted to study and work for those in greater need than myself. It was the type of life my mother hoped I would lead. To accomplish this dream, I realized that education would be important. From early in the morning to late at night, I studied English.

My dream is to establish an NGO to help North Koreans while focusing on the following areas of great need: refugee children’s education, human rights, and welfare. When the two Koreas are reunified, the NGO would continue to aid in these areas. Thinking about and planning my dream keeps my morale high and helps me overcome my troubled memories of North Korea and China. Whenever I encounter hardship, I stand strong, emboldened by the power of my dreams.

Up until March 2008, I worked in order to pay back my debt to my broker. I worked three consecutive jobs, including selling books in a bookstore, working as an attendant in a parking lot, and delivering chicken. I had trouble adjusting to the cultural differences I faced in South Korea. However, I had no choice but to adapt because it was the only way I could have a future in South Korea.

In 2007, I received my first prize in a memoir contest in Hanawon, which is created for the purpose of educating defectors before they are integrated back into society in South Korea. In 2009, I was studying at the alternative school called ‘Yeomyeong’ when I won the grand prize in the poetry contest in Gyeongi province in South Korea. I was really happy when I got it. The following is an excerpt from the poem I won the prize for:

     살길 찾아 험한 길 오릅니다.
     배고픔을 달래기 위해 허고에다 꿈을 품고
     눈물 머금은 주먹 불끈 쥐고
     가야할 그 곳 향해 내 발길 향합니다.
     I climb up a steep rock-strewn path to survive
     Daydreaming to forget about hunger
     Tears fill my eyes
     Step after step, I journey to my destination

In March 2008, I began to study what I wanted. For one and a half years, from the beginning of 2008 until the end of 2009, I took tests certifying my elementary, middle, and high school “completion.” I then entered Handong University, which is located in Pohang, South Korea’s “Steel City.” At Handong University, I served for one year as president of a student club, which studies North Korea and prays for its people. We have focused on teaching students about North Korean life and defectors’ lives in China or other countries by showing them videos and movies based on defectors’ lives. We have also held events to share North Korean food and campaigned for a seminar, which is now held by my club. Scholars or witnesses are invited, and then I sometimes share my life story as well. My club goes beyond the school to let the people living in the area around my university join our project and help us prepare programs. Driven by my personal credo to study not only for myself, but also for the people who are not as well off as me, I continue to persevere.

After I came to South Korea I contacted my brother living in North Korea and I would always send him money via a Chinese broker. I finally brought him to South Korea in 2012. I met him after 11 years of separation. I thought I would cry with happiness, but I actually had mixed emotions when I met him. He has gotten married since and has been working in a warehouse in South Korea.

Working to Help Others in Cambodia and China

While studying at Handong University, I was committed to working for others in Cambodia and China. I volunteered to help the elderly in a hospital and went to China to work for an orphanage hosting dozens of Chinese children. We produced a video for publicity. I personally taught two orphans basic English grammar.

I then visited Cambodia to become acquainted with several organizations working towards the improvement of the human rights situation in that country. One such organization was the New International Builder`s Community (NIBC), set up for Christian faith and study. There was a preschool and a middle school for Cambodian children receiving an education at a small cost. We helped to clean the grounds and also learned about how the organization was run. 

At the University of Battambang, which was founded by H.E. Sar Kheng, Deputy Prime Minister in 2007, the vision of providing opportunities to students living in rural areas, especially in northwestern Cambodia, was realized. These opportunities include access to higher education and services that contribute towards the development of their individual careers, as well as to their local communities. At the same time, these opportunities are reducing the knowledge gap between the rural and urban populations. We then met many students and learned about what they are studying and how the school is run.

Cambodian Children’s Dream Organization (CCDO) has a vision to create healthy, educated, thriving, and sustainable villages in the rural areas of Siem Reap. We learned about how the organization is run. It was very interesting because they are building over five hundreds wells in poor villages in Cambodia at a very low cost.

We then visited some orphanages to help clean up, to teach the orphans, and to pray for them as well. After my experience in Cambodia, I decided to financially support a young girl in Cambodia. Her name is Toma, and she lives with her parents in Cambodia, but they are originally from Bangladesh. Her father is working as a daily worker and her mother does housework. Toma helps her parents do housework. She attends Bible study, which is one of the program missions of Compassion, the Christian organization through which I donate to her. She likes the subject of language and her education level is average. She also likes reading, painting and listening to music. We are frequent pen pals and I hope that she will grow up to be a beneficial contributor to her community

The Present

Part of the Work English Study Travel (WEST) program, I am now working at the Committee for Human Rights in North Korea (HRNK) as an intern in Washington D.C. I am learning about human rights under international law. I am also learning about the North Korean political system, which I was not aware of living in North Korea, by reading HRNK’s publications.

Working at HRNK, I have had the pleasure of attending various conferences on North Korean human rights as well as on transitional justice for a reunified Korea. Learning more about human rights for North Korea and planning for a reunified Korea is very important. In Washington D.C., I have been able to network with other North Korean defectors and Korea experts. The people I have met and the things I have learned will play an important role in my future.

A Dream of the Future

Parting is often sad. To leave without having a chance to say goodbye is even worse. Nobody hates their hometown or their friends. When defectors depart from their hometowns, they believe they will return soon, but in reality, it is nearly impossible. In China, defectors who leave home will continue to miss home, while also fearing repatriation to North Korea. My hometown in North Korea is not geographically far from South Korea but it seems very, very far away, worlds apart. I want to go there to help my friends, but I cannot do that right now. Longing for my hometown comes in waves. Longing for my hometown in North Korea, this nostalgia often makes me melancholy. North Korea is shrouded in darkness. I can only hope for the advent of freedom in North Korea. While ceaselessly hoping and praying for freedom in North Korea, I often find myself moved to tears. I saw many terrible things when I was repatriated from China to North Korea. The absence of human rights means that human beings are not treated as they should be. I cannot understand why innocent defectors seeking freedom are tortured and killed.

Many defectors cross the Tumen River between China and North Korea to fill our empty stomachs and live. Many of them also look for freedom and the most fortunate ones—such as myself—continue to seek it at the end of a perilous road, in South Korea or other countries. If we go to China, not only the Chinese, but also the North Koreans point their guns at us for betraying our country. Where can refugees call home? All North Koreans long to be buried in their hometown with their families, but where are refugees who flee the country to be buried? How is it possible for parents and children separated by the China-North Korea border to be reunited? Most defectors go to South Korea to live freely by overcoming extraordinary obstacles. However, there are many cultural differences, and they suffer from a constant feeling of inferiority in a completely new world. How can we help the defectors to adjust to their new world?

I am trying to find solutions to these many questions. I searched for hope, but I found much misery embedded even within the hope I found. I never dreamed about discovering new goals, especially for future generations of North Koreans. Despite not having concrete plans, I now have a desire to overcome my circumstances and past memories. Some time in the future, I would like to write a book about my life and include my poetry. I want to create dreams for those who are living without a dream, especially North Korean youth, and be a part of their healing process. A small seed can bear much fruit. Perhaps even the help of one as insignificant as myself could be valuable. To be able to dream is a wonderful thing.

By Sung-chul Kim, Former HRNK Intern
Translated and edited by Rosa Park
(reprinted from hrnkinsider.org on Feb. 6, 2014)

I was born in socialist North Korea. I lived my life struggling to be free from hunger and had little to dream about. After that, I spent more than five years in China in fear because of my precarious status. Despite several arrests and forced repatriations to North Korea, I survived and eventually arrived in South Korea. Not until then could I have a dream and start studying. Now, I have finally experienced America, a country I had dreamed of visiting. In the United States, I finished a four-month long English class, and then completed an internship at the Committee for Human Rights in North Korea (HRNK). 

I used to look at those who got to go to school with envy when I was in North Korea and China. I wanted to go to school, playing freely and carrying a school backpack. In China, North Korean refugees don’t have access to a public education, because the Chinese government claims they are “illegal economic migrants.” That made me feel depressed over my being practically stateless. Only after I started studying in South Korea did I begin to forget my sorrow, little by little. When it came to English, I could not even distinguish uppercase and lowercase letters in the beginning. I did not know anything about subjects such as math or history. I was thirsty for learning, and worked really hard, though. 

While studying at Han-dong University in Pohang, South Korea, I dreamed about going to America. I wanted to experience America for myself since I had only seen it on TV. While growing up in North Korea, I was told America was an evil empire that invaded my fatherland. When I finally found a program that offered the opportunity to study English in America, I applied and was accepted. The first time I overlooked America from the window of my airplane, I thought that it was a really huge country. When I arrived at the airport, I met those who came to greet me. They helped me open a bank account and get a mobile phone. We had a meal together and then I was given a room. Life was just about to get interesting! 

Public transportation in America is not as good as in South Korea. I had to walk for at least twenty minutes to the nearest metro stop. This is a long walk by South Korean standards, but a rather short distance in America. Walking to the station, I practiced my English speaking skills with my flat mate to avoid wasting time. 

After my four-month language course was over, I started looking for an internship opportunity. As soon as I found out about HRNK, I asked for a meeting with the executive director. After we sat down and had a discussion about my life, academic interests, and experience in the United States, he asked me to submit my CV, cover letter, and writing sample. A few days later, I was invited to join HRNK’s intern corps. An acquaintance of mine also introduced me to the Lantos Human Rights Commission. The Lantos Commission also offered me an internship, so I began to work for the Lantos Commission on Mondays and Tuesdays and HRNK the rest of the week. 

I learned a lot at HRNK, especially about the political prison camps and leadership system of North Korea. Although I was a detainee in a mobile labor brigade myself, I realized that I did not really understand how North Korea’s vast system of unlawful imprisonment worked. I also read the book, “I Saw the Truth of History,” by Hwang Jang-yeop, while researching materials about North Korea. That book enabled me to clearly understand the way the North Korean regime works. 

North Korea is a totalitarian regime. Just one spoken or written word from Kim Jung-un becomes law. I, myself, also do not know much about North Korea even though I am from North Korea. This is because it was almost impossible to get access to information about the laws of the country, or how the North Korea was run. The government never even officially acknowledged the existence of the political prison camps. Everything about North Korea was shrouded in secrecy. As soon as we are born, we learn that Kim Il-sung was our great leader, and that absolute “truth” is never to be challenged. I believed this just like many other people. Now it all seems so extreme, an insult to common sense. 

While reading through materials published by HRNK, I realized the truth about North Korea that I could never have known before. Also, there were many opportunities to talk with various people whenever I attended human rights events. I talked about the methodology of unification with many people. We discussed whether sudden or gradual unification would be best for Korea. Also, we talked about whether the case of Germany can be a good model for Korea to follow. I think the German case is not suitable for Korea for two reasons. First, East and West Germany had many more exchanges between them compared to North and South Korea. For example, it was possible to watch West German TV programs in East Germany. Second, different from the current situation of North Korea, demonstrations were allowed in East Germany. Also, there are some opinions that point out that South Korea fails to embrace its 27,000 North Korean defectors while West Germany warmly welcomed more than 400,000 East Germans. The chance to discuss these ideas was a great experience for me because I was able to learn about many issues while having a discussion with others. I am especially thankful to my fellow interns and co-workers, who helped me a lot. 

I learned a lot from the Lantos Human Rights Commission as well because I was able to learn about other nations’ human rights situations by attending several hearings on Capitol Hill. I learned about violations of human rights in various countries, including Haiti, Burma, Columbia, and Syria. Also, I spent a lot of time sharing North Korean culture with Americans. It was a great opportunity for me because I could talk to foreign friends about the reality of North Korea. Overall, the atmosphere of America feels much more relaxing than that of Korea. People are kind and very hospitable. I will miss America a lot. The precious time I had here, where I was so busy, has passed almost all too soon. Just when it feels like I have almost adapted to American life, it is, unfortunately, time to leave.

By Hana Kim, Former HRNK Intern
Translated and edited by Rosa Park and Amanda Mortwedt
(reprinted from hrnkinsider.org on Feb. 6, 2014)

I was born and finished high school in North Korea. I then spent eight years in China and five years in South Korea. I have been in the United States for eight months, but time seems to have gone by too fast. It is almost time to return to South Korea. What have I gained from my experience in America? The thought that I may not have gained anything significant worries me. I feel ashamed at the thought that I fall short of the expectations of those who supported me. However, I certainly feel like I have experienced and learned many things. 

Language Study and Travel
Before coming to America, I made various plans filled with enthusiasm. My plans ranged from mastering English, traveling across the country, making American friends, and meeting people in various fields, to participating in all sorts of events, forums, and so on. It seems that I have completed most of these plans so far. I was so excited, thinking that speaking English would be natural to me once I came to America. Looking back, I find myself laughing. 

Nevertheless, I still believe I have progressed. Although I am not completely satisfied, my English has become much better compared to when I could not even speak a word in front of foreigners. Most of all, it is certain that my fear of English has disappeared. When I meet Americans I try to express myself in English, despite my poor grammar. Americans praise me, saying I am good at English. I feel proud when people compliment me on my English, but I still feel ashamed of my broken English. I know I can learn English faster if I take the initiative to engage in dialogue without fear. However, I’m at the level of just listening when there is a dialogue among colleagues. Still, I am thankful that I can understand English to a higher degree, which was not possible at first. 

When I was in South Korea, I wrote down a list of “My Dreams,” which included traveling to America and studying a language abroad. The four-month long language class that I took as soon as I came to the United States was especially effective. As it was an intensive course, I could actually see that my English was getting better at a rapid speed. I became confident to the point where I felt that I could go anywhere by myself without a guide. 

I have been to every corner of Washington, D.C. at least once and have visited several museums. The best thing about living in D.C. has been the ability to grasp the history of America. Although traveling can be quite expensive, I did not miss an opportunity to travel and visited Luray Caverns in Virginia, New York City, and the Niagara Falls. Traveling was like a tonic for my life. Having been alone for more than ten years after I left North Korea, I was accustomed to living alone, fearlessly and confidently. However, I could not avoid feeling depressed from time to time. Whenever I was feeling gloomy, traveling helped me find strength. 

South Korean Culture and My Host Family
Currently, I am doing a ‘home-stay’ by living with an ordinary American family. The host family is a young couple about my age with many young kids. They are busy because of their children but always take care of me whenever I have some trouble or need something. One of the reasons that I chose to live in a ‘home-stay’ was to experience American culture, while actually living with an American family. There is not a huge difference in family culture between South Korea and America. One thing that is strikingly distinctive, though, is that it is still not common to see husbands help with family affairs in the ordinary Korean family. However, it was always left to the husband to do the dishes in the American family I lived with. American husbands help with almost all the chores around the kitchen. 

Additionally, when my host family held a party with their co-workers and neighbors, I was able to experience preparations for the party, and I learned how it works, and how to enjoy it. One clear thing I observed was that parties are totally different between Korea and America, especially when it comes to the drinking culture. It feels very classy to enjoy a party with just a couple of glasses of wine or champagne. Surely, I also like the party culture of Korea but, frankly, I prefer that of America. 

Internship
I started my internship at the Committee for Human Rights in North Korea (HRNK) after finishing four months of English language study. The moment I had dreamed of since interviewing for the internship was finally accomplished. While I was naturally interested in human rights in North Korea since I was born and raised there, I had another reason that made me determined to work for HRNK. When I was in South Korea, I worked for various human rights organizations. At that time, I distributed flyers disclosing the reality of the human rights conditions in North Korea to passers-by in the hot summer sun. Watching people passing by indifferently, I doubted whether my efforts could actually cause any change in North Korea. 

Back then, I could not imagine that there would be any organization working for the human rights of North Koreans. Only after I came to America did I see the work of HRNK. I believe that if we combine our voice with America, a super power, it would be very effective for those who are struggling with a desperate reality. This is why I finally decided to work at HRNK. I began to work with the expectation that I would be able to know more about human rights and to learn sensible ways to solve the problems in North Korea. 

HRNK is doing many things. First, HRNK conducts research about the reality of the human rights condition in North Korea. Second, it publishes reports based on this research to increase awareness in the international community. HRNK also rectifies misunderstandings people might have about human rights in North Korea through various events and forums. HRNK’s research materials can be used as a medium to change circumstances. Publications such as “Lives For Sale,” “Hidden Gulag,” “Taken,” and “Songbun,” should be read by those who are interested in North Korean human rights. 

In my humble opinion, as a human, it goes against what is right to leave the situation of North Korea as it is. Now, following the wishes of those who work for the betterment of North Korea, a UN Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in North Korea has been in operation for almost a year. I hope it will have a significant impact on North Korea. 

As an intern at HRNK I have had the opportunity to attend a variety of events related to North Korea. Because of this, I have realized that there is an increasing number of people working for and interested in North Korea human rights. Also, through HRNK’s publications, I have learned much more about the reality of North Korea. Although I was born and raised in North Korea, the world I experienced there was narrow. As a result, I feel so thankful that I am able to do what I want to do while eating hot meals and sleeping comfortably. Also, I inevitably feel the responsibility to do whatever I can for North Koreans. 

To contribute to improving people’s consciousness about the reality of human rights in North Korea, I uploaded an essay to the HRNK blog about my experience back in North Korea. In addition, I wrote a report entitled, “Alternatives for the Improvement of Human Rights in North Korea.” While I admit that the alternatives I suggested are not suitable for the current reality, they are actions to take at some point in the future. I hope that my report will have some relevance for thorough preparation in the context of the broader picture. 

There are many interns who decided to work for HRNK because of their great interests in human rights in North Korea. My supervisor and co-workers always helped me with kindness, even though they might have been uncomfortable due to my poor English. Thanks to their help, I managed to successfully accomplish my given tasks. Also, I was able to continue studying English after work. I deeply appreciate their kindness. I feel sorry, though, because it feels like I am ‘spinning my wheels’ with my English. I should study English harder and steadily after I go back to South Korea as well. 

What I felt all the more keenly while living in America is that many more people than I thought are interested in North Korea. More surprisingly, there are a number of people who are actively working for human rights in North Korea. I have no doubt that these efforts of tremendous people who care about human rights can induce positive change in North Korea.

By Hana Kim, Former HRNK Intern
Edited by Rosa Park, Daniel Aum, and Bomi Im
(reposted from hrnkinsider.org, June 21, 2013)

I believe that anyone who comes from North Korea must be keenly aware of the plight of those who have suffered the same human rights violations that I have—and worse. I chose to work for human rights in North Korea so that I can offer insight into areas of improvement, and available alternatives that are most desired by victims. I now write a brief story about my life in North Korea, hoping it will provide some information useful in attempts to improve the situation in North Korea and spread knowledge about the inner-workings of life in that country.

My hometown was far from the Sino-North Korean border and closer to the central provinces, which was one reason why I was shielded from knowledge of the outside world. Except for destitute people wandering the border areas desperately trying to survive, most people, including myself, remained largely ignorant of what was happening within our own country.

I did not grow up in poverty. When Kim Il-sung died and the Great Famine of the 1990s almost immediately followed, I was attending high school, unaware of such critical events in my own country. Since I did not suffer from hunger, when I saw children wandering alone in the streets, I simply observed their unfortunate circumstances without much further thought. Questions of why they were living in poverty never crossed my mind once. Now, when I share my story with fellow North Korean colleagues who have suffered much worse, I cannot help but feel the guilty heat of shame and embarrassment. However, back then, this was my reality, and I do not think my ignorance was unique.

After I graduated high school, I joined a North Korean trading company. The company was located far from my home so I lived in a company residential hall during the week and went home on weekends. I used to shop at a nearby marketplace. One time, I bought some dduk (rice cakes) at the market and continued shopping, holding the food in my hand. I never imagined that someone would swipe my snack from my hand before my eyes. When I looked down, I saw what looked like a homeless child who had stolen my dduk. I was shocked and confused, as I could not understand why these children would wander around the streets stealing things from strangers. I simply thought that some kids wandered around looking for food because they were poor and their parents could not provide for them. Living in an isolated company residential area, I was further isolated from any outside information. I only concentrated on the necessary output, receiving enough salary from a comfortable job.

The failed public distribution system (PDS) was what caused many North Koreans to suffer food shortages. Many parents left for China in search of food. Their short-term trips became long-term trips, and when they did not return, their children began leaving their homes in search of food. This situation brought about the “divided defector families.” As soon as North Korean parents arrive in South Korea, some of them succeed in finding their children’s whereabouts through the services of a broker. However, they are not always successful. Too often, brokers are not able to locate the child to even confirm whether their child is dead or alive.

I later moved to the service sector at an international hotel. One might think an international hotel serves anyone who can pay to stay, but hotels, even international ones, in North Korea operate under a different business plan. International hotels are typically only open to National Central Party executives and overseas customers. In the hotel that I worked for, only National Central Party members and a UN Missions team passed through. Typically, for many months at a time, staff members were the only people roaming the hotel corridors because no one else could receive government approval to rent a hotel room.

Inside the hotel was a small mall that only accepted foreign currency, and was open to the general public only rarely and exceptionally. Despite the shops only accepting American dollars, the mall was almost always bustling with shoppers. I remember high school students would often come to the mall with great curiosity, carrying just a couple of dollars to window shop. As I was familiar with this type of lifestyle, I naturally assumed that the stories of those who starved to death were not real.

My time with the hotel was cut short when I was forced to join the “Highway Construction Youth Brigade.” The job required all workers to leave their home and families for several months at a time, and most of the workers were married women who had families to take care of at home. Several single men and women agreed it was the right thing to do to volunteer to take this traveling position. Thus, that winter, together with my troop, I embarked on a journey both arduous and eye opening.

I worked on road construction. Our task was to expand the road to allow airplanes to use it as a runway in case of emergencies. We had to reconstruct the foundation from the ground up so we were involved in blasting operations. One day, we were waiting for the blasting operations to conclude so we could collect and remove the ensuing debris. Then, we heard a boom. Small and large fragmented stones started raining down on our heads. I heard a scream emanate amidst the sound of falling rocks, “Evacuate!” We all staggered to get up and dodge the flying debris.

Then, I saw something I will never forget. A man in his mid-40s, who had been waiting with us, had fallen asleep and woke up to the shout of “Evacuate!” a second too late. Like lightning, a piece of flying debris struck the man on his head. In the blink of an eye, the man’s skull was cracked from top to bottom. I cannot forget the image and I can still see the man’s lifeless, crumbled body. As tragic as his death was, even more devastating was the fact that his family never received his body for proper burial. Those in charge claimed the train service was malfunctioning and that it would take weeks to transfer the corpse back to his family, leading to unseemly decay.

Even as the weather got colder, we had to sleep in subzero temperatures on a bed made of chopped straw and mud covered by a tent, one-meter tall. As we had to endure the snow, we could not even change our wet shoes made of rubber and thin cloth as we went to bed at night because it was so cold. Yet, I thought our young bodies could handle the stress. However, I woke up one morning to the sound of someone screaming. People were standing over my friend, who had been sleeping right next to me. As she drew her last breath, those who were beside her heard her last words. That last moment, she opened her eyes wide, grabbed the person nearest to her by the neck, gripping so hard she left scratch marks, and barely said “I . . . ” and then died. I imagine she felt so pitiful for her dying the way she did that even in her near coma-like state, she wanted to appeal one last time to whoever would listen that she wanted to live. Doctors rushed in and out of the tent doing their best to resuscitate her, but seeing there was no effect, they just carried her body out and that was the last I ever saw of her.

As I witnessed someone dying before my eyes twice, I began to grow afraid. Only then did I recall the time when I joyfully left home telling my mother I would work hard, qualify to join the Worker’s Party of Korea, and return soon. My mother stood at the door trying to hide her tears. When I left, she gave me enough of an allowance to survive. Thankfully, I did not have to depend solely on the unpeeled barley that was the common ration for troop members, but rather, I could purchase food from the women market vendors. Others were not so fortunate because the unpeeled barley was their principal source of food and their health began to deteriorate. Some could not endure the hard labor and conditions, and ran away.

When they ran away, the companies they worked for prior to joining the troop would often send them back. One of my friends who returned had a chance to talk with my parents back at home and shared their news with me. She informed me that my sister was preparing an engagement party and had sent me an invitation, but the troop leader had deliberately withheld the invitation from me. The troop leader feared that if I returned home to attend my sister’s engagement party, then I would surely not return. Thus, he never relayed the message. In addition to the sights of my friends dying, the incredulous stories that I heard from back home began to shift my perspective on my surroundings.

Despite all this, I still believed if I continued to overcome these hardships and worked harder than everyone else, I would become a member of the Worker’s Party. However, when February 16th came, the day of Kim Jong-il’s birthday and the announcement of new members, my hopes were shattered. The people who were called on induction day were not those who actually worked, but rather, the executives and directors who stood around ordering people what to do. I deluded myself, having received compliments about my strong work ethic; I was certain I would be inducted during the next session on April 15th, Kim Il-sung’s birthday. Although I broke my back working to gain membership, commoners like myself were not given the opportunity to join the elite.

As I reflected on these events, I had a moment of clarity. From then on, I determined that I would not die there in vain. I started to plan an escape. I pretended to be sick and complained that I was incapable of working that day. As I had a good reputation of working hard among my troop, when I said I came down with an illness, I was granted a leave of absence easily due to the generosity of the leader (a friend of my brother—my mother had asked him to look after me as a personal favor). But in the end, my plans to escape that day were foiled. I was so strictly monitored that I could not evade detection. The next day, when I said I was still sick and could not come to work, my close friends read my mind and asked to join in the escape. During break time, we snuck out and escaped.

Including myself, five of us escaped from the troop. My friends were still wearing their ragged work clothes while I had on cleaner clothes. When there was a delay on the train, I sold some of my clothes in exchange for food. We shared the food until we got home. Because of the repeated delays, a trip that normally would have taken several hours took one week. When I arrived at home, my father was outside the house. When I saw him, I thought to myself, “Why is he acting strange?” As he looked me up and down, I thought, “Why isn’t he inviting me in?” Any initial fears were calmed when he offered clean water and clothes, despite what must have been my alarmingly rugged appearance. I still remember with fondness how he helped me in my time of need.

Although I returned home, I could not return to my company. I feared being sent back to the construction brigade. However, I could not just stay at home, wary of any guards that may stop by to investigate my absence. Whenever they did stop by, I remember the difficult position my parents were in as they lied to the guards that I was missing. Finally I decided to leave with my friends to start a business. With time, I began to experience the real North Korea for the first time. Traveling to many cities, I met many different people, shared stories, and got my first glimpse of the outside world.

One day, tempted by the fact that I could earn three times more money in China than in North Korea, I decided to cross the border with several of my friends. At the time, I had absolutely no intention of permanently leaving my hometown and my family behind. I thought to myself that I would earn money just for three months and then return home. I expressed these same thoughts to the broker who would help me cross into China.

However, as soon as I stepped into China, I was in far greater danger. As I was an illegal alien, I was in danger of repatriation. Expecting a 5000-yuan reward, Chinese residents who were living in the remote mountain village could have reported my presence to the police. I could no longer stay around the border area. I moved to the southern area of China, following a Chinese broker with the fear of being caught. I kept moving away from the border area and my initial plans became obsolete. I could not return to North Korea and I could not sustain myself in China. To survive, I began learning Chinese. For eight years, while living under the constant threat of repatriation to North Korea, I worked for several employers, including a restaurant, a market, a SIM card vendor, and a travel agency.

While working, I began to realize that there are a lot of defectors like me who stay in China. Also, reading books about Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il, I wrestled with difficult issues regarding problems such as famine, false propaganda, and brainwashing. Through books, I got a glimpse of the problems with the North Korean regime. Amidst all these thoughts and revelations, I gradually decided to escape to South Korea, watching people escaping North Korea on television.

Due to my long stay in China, I was not afraid when I first arrived in South Korea. I successfully finished the three-month education program at Hanawon (education institute for defectors), receiving an award of excellence when I graduated. Finally, for the first time in my life, I began to seriously think about ‘for what’ and ‘how’ to live. As the society of South Korea and North Korea are very different, learning about South Korean society was the first thing that I needed. That was why I decided to go to college.

For two years, I prepared for college, while earning money with part-time jobs. After much hard work, I finally obtained an admission letter from college. Although I went to college later than others, it was not difficult as many seniors who came from North Korea helped me. I could absorb the lectures well, asking my professors questions and advice. Several months ago, while I was studying, I applied and was accepted for a language training and internship program in the U.S. Today, while living in South Korea and the U.S., I live each day working hard to learn and prepare a better future for North Korea and the rest of my life.