5 Reasons Why Being a Field Coordinator Is Awesome
Being a field coordinator is a difficult, but incredibly rewarding job and we always come to treasure the unique and life-changing experiences we have during our time in the field. To give you some insight into what this job is like, here are the five best things about it.
Getting to know the refugees
This is by far the most amazing part of what we do. When refugees come under our care, we form strong bonds with them. Despite the vastly different stories and personalities, through our conversations, we see the common thread of remarkable perseverance and will to survive in each of the North Koreans we rescue. All of them have hopes for the future and many of the things we learn about our friends can be emotional, further strengthening our bond. We focus so much of our energy on providing food, clothes, shelter, time to rest for these refugees who have been through so much. When it comes time for them to leave, they do so with so much gratitude and strength. We believe getting to know them creates a strong relationship between the refugees and LiNK so that they feel comfortable reaching out for additional services after resettlement.
Seeing how refugees have changed post-resettlement
In Southeast Asia, the North Korean refugees we assist are still en route to their resettlement destination and are still not completely at peace. They are often nervous, anxious, and trying to process being in a world completely unfamiliar to them.
When we have the opportunity to travel to South Korea to meet with them once they have resettled, it’s always gives us a rush of anticipation because we get to see how they have changed. One particular memory we have from one of these trips is of visiting a noraebang (a Korean karaoke room) with resettled refugees. To watch them having fun was very moving. Sometimes, the simple fact that they look happy and safe is more than enough to make this job worth it.
Introducing refugees to the supporters who funded their rescues
The concept of a complete stranger donating several thousand dollars to a person in need they have never met is a completely foreign concept to many North Koreans. They are often astounded and moved that a person thousands of miles away would do something so selfless. With each refugee that comes through, we always make sure to introduce them to the person or group that helped fund their rescue, explaining who they are, where they’re from, how they found out about North Korea, and why they donated. It’s a moment when two worlds meet and the refugees often write thank you cards to donors to express their gratitude.
Observing how refugees interact with technology
It’s interesting to observe how sudden exposure to a world of technology affects a person who hasn’t grown up with it. One middle-aged refugee was hesitant about taking a photo with his head turned to the side because he thought the North Korean government had the technology to turn heads in photos and thus find out his identity. In contrast, we have also seen a North Korean child begging his mom as soon as the group arrived to turn on the TV so he could watch cartoons. The family had been well-off enough to be able to expose their son to foreign media at a young age even inside North Korea.
It’s a fascinating experience to show refugees Google Maps views of their hometowns. It’s just a simple bird's eye view, but the way their eyes light up and their fingers trace the roads to their homes, circle their schools, train stations, and marketplaces, is so visceral for them. It’s a contemplative moment for us—these people have left their country because of reasons that made life in North Korea miserable or unlivable. Despite that, North Korea is HOME and still filled with memories, both good and bad, of their childhood, family, and the simple pleasures of life—chatting with neighbors, holiday memories of gifts and special foods, and weddings.
Breaking the ice with delicious food
The first meal with every group is always quiet because we’re all meeting each other for the first time. So we always make it a point to ask about special foods the refugees had in North Korea or on the journey down as an icebreaker. Afterall, who doesn’t love talking about food? It’s true for North Koreans as well - everyone loves giving input on regional differences in preparing holiday meals, comparing market prices on fruit and produce, or complaining about the food not matching their tastes on their journey down.
We want to make sure the North Korean refugees are able to eat as much as they can to be strong enough for the remainder of their journey so we’ve made it a point to find out what foods fit best with their palates. For many of them, this journey is the first time they’ll have experience some tastes or seasonings (like cilantro) and it can come as a shock to them. It’s fun to think about what foods they would like—Yogurt? Chinese-style buns? Noodle soup? Fried rice with a fried egg on top is an all-around crowd pleaser.
Soon after the first meal, the refugees will have lively discussions about the delicious foods they ate in North Korea and when they were available. One mission, we brought out persimmons as dessert—it initiated a 20-minute discussion on the merits and differences of persimmons eaten in North Korea versus the ones bought in Southeast Asia.
Being a field coordinator is filled with many unique moments and this list summarizes just a few of them. And yes, though it is challenging at times, it’s the refugees who we are most excited to serve. We love sharing our experiences with them. No one group or mission is the same and that keeps our job exciting, varied, and dynamic.
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Finally Free
I went to Southeast Asia to see where LiNK’s Field Team rescues North Korean refugees. Here’s what I found…
Refugees must cross terrain like this to reach safety in Southeast Asia
We’re on a dirt road weaving around potholes.
On one side, the rice reaches to the horizon. On the other, corn stretches higher than the van.It feels like rural Iowa, but hotter and with palm trees.
The van lurches along, swaying back and forth with the ruts in the road. We’ve been driving for five hours through dense jungle and villages so small that you’d miss them if you blinked. It’s starting to seem like we’re in the middle of nowhere.
We finally coast to a stop and LiNK’s Field Manager points to a steep ravine.
“We’re here,” she says.
“We’ve rescued North Korean refugees right here,” she continues.
For the next hour we stop every couple hundred yards. She points to a field or a patch of trees and recounts stories.Stories of screeching to a stop, sliding open the door, and pulling North Korean refugees into the van.Stories of refugees so dehydrated they barely have the words to ask for water.
Stories of people collapsing in exhaustion, caked in mud and peppered with bruises from the long trek through the jungle.“What do refugees do once they’re in the van?” I ask.“Some start crying, the tears stream down their cheeks. They’re so overwhelmed that they finally made it. Others flash smiles in triumph, soaking in every second.”
I realize we’re not on just any dirt road.
This road meanders along the border. You can’t see the line but throw a stone in a certain direction and it’s likely to land in another country.For North Korean refugees this border means everything. Cross it, and they’re safe. The North Korean regime cannot have them arrested and forcibly returned.The danger is finally gone — evaporated in the sweltering heat and suffocating humidity of Southeast Asia.
For the first time in their entire lives: they are free.
It’s a week later and I’m sitting in an air-conditioned coffee shop that sells overpriced lattes.
I’m back in South Korea to interview a North Korean woman who reached freedom through LiNK’s rescue network.It took her four tries to make it to South Korea.She was arrested twice at the North Korean border and once in China. Each time the punishments seemed unimaginable, but they’re terrifyingly common.She recounts the horrific torture she endured for trying to escape. The way they slammed her head into a nail on the wall. The torment of witnessing cellmates whither away from starvation. The heartbreak of watching her 5-year old daughter being beaten in front of her.I’m trying hard to collect the facts. But hers is one of those stories that hollows you out. Leaving you nauseous and numb.The conversation dwindles. I can see the toll that sharing these stories are having. Her shoulders start to slump. She barely looks up to make eye contact anymore.I pull out my phone and show her a video. Her eyes flash with life.
20 seconds pass and she’s still glued to the phone.
It’s a video of that dirt road. And the exact place where she finally reached freedom. There are corn stalks on the left and a small farmhouse hidden behind palms leaves on the right.“Do you remember this place?” I ask.“How could I ever forget it?” she says without looking up.She’s smiling for the first time all afternoon.
