Interview with Charles - North Korean Student at Coding Dojo
Charles escaped from North Korea and made the dangerous journey to safety without the help of a rescue. He resettled to the US in 2012, completing high school and soon after taking the opportunity to participate in a rigorous coding bootcamp through a partner of Liberty in North Korea, Coding Dojo. Charles is now attending community college and pursuing his own coding project. We had a chance to meet with Charles this summer to learn more about his life in North Korea and his new coding passion. Read the interview is below. Charles is also fundraising for rescues with us!
LiNK: Why did you choose to resettle to the US?
Charles: I was born between a North Korean mom and a Chinese dad, which put me in a difficult situation. I wasn’t accepted into South Korea because my Dad is Chinese, even though I had proof of having been captured once in China for being a North Korean refugee. So I applied for refugee status through the United Nations and resettled in the US.
LiNK: You attended Coding Dojo’s coding Bootcamp earlier this year - so cool! Between coding language, English, and borrowed words in Korean, which was the hardest language to learn?
Charles: Coding was hard. You have to know the terms while learning the specific coding language, so that was a challenge. I’m still teaching myself the parts of coding that I find difficult. As for borrowed words in Korean, I didn’t know those existed at all until I started to talk to more Koreans in the US. Borrowed words frequently came up, and I would have to ask people around me to explain the words that I couldn’t understand; part of the challenge was how the same word is pronounced differently in Korean and in English. Shortened words in Korean were tough to learn as well.
LiNK: What’s your favorite thing about programming?
Charles: My favorite thing about programming is I have finally discovered what I truly want to do with my life. I used to want to be a doctor one day, a cop the next day, and maybe a week later, I would want to join the army. Coding first became my hobby and thanks to Coding Dojo, it became something I want to make a career out of. It’s a lot of fun. But aside from that, I’ve also met good friends and instructors at Coding Dojo. I think it’s safe to say coding made me pull a 180 in life. I’m set on computers for now.
LiNK: Can you tell us about a project you’ve been working on?
Charles: Sure. I’ve been working on a project using MEAN stack to make an auction platform for ideas. Users can present ideas, sell ideas, buy ideas… You could say that it’s similar to Ebay in a way, but I think at this stage it’s important to emulate what other people have made to explore and learn about various successful models rather than trying to create something entirely new and different. With the current version, users can upload an idea onto the platform, but there’s been glitches in the idea being transferred to the the auction page. So that’s something I’ve been struggling with, but I think I’m going to finish it pretty soon.
LiNK: How do you get into computer programming as a career in North Korea?
Charles: I’m not sure because I don’t have any friends who went to university, although I do have a relative who was able to go. Most students who go to university come from wealthy families or are people who have been able to make a good amount of money from market activities, and they might find that kind of job. But in North Korea a lot of occupations are passed down from your parents, for example if you’re a politician then your children will also likely become politicians.
LiNK: After coding, what do you like to do in your free time?
Charles: I’m usually at the gym working out. If it’s breezy and not too hot outside, I go to the park and listen to music. You can find me sitting on a bench with my headphones on.
LiNK: What kinds of things do you think about when you’re at a park listening to your music?
Charles: Usually I think about memories from North Korea. When I’m busy my mind is preoccupied with work, but when I have more time on my hands I often think back on my life in North Korea -- both the good days and the hungry days.
LiNK: Can you share one of your favorite memories with us?
Charles: Sure. I had a lot of friends back in North Korea, and we were always outdoors in nature. I lived near Daedong River, so every Sunday, five to six friends of mine and I would have cookouts near the river. We would get rice, a pot, and some firewood to make porridge. Would I do that here? Probably not. I could try, but I think being with my friends was what made it memorable and special. Even when we were hungry, we were hungry together.
LiNK: That sounds really nice. Have you found any foods that you like to eat here?
Charles: Subway! I love sandwiches. My go-to Korean food is Kimchijiggae. I also like Vietnamese noodles — Pho.
LiNK: Cool. What are three things you want to accomplish by the end of this year?
Charles: First is completing my programming project, the Idea Auction project that I mentioned earlier. Second is getting accepted into the community college that I’m applying to. And third would be keeping in good health!
LiNK: Those are some solid goals. You drive Uber sometimes, right? When you’re talking with riders, do you share that you’re from North Korea?
Charles: Well, not a lot of people in the US are aware about North Korea. They say, “Where are you from?” So I would say, “I’m from North Korea,” and they go, “How is it there?” Haha. So I tell them that North Korea is the counterpart of South Korea. The funny thing is that they might not be familiar with North Korea, but they know what I’m talking about when I say the name Kim Jong Un. Then, they don’t believe me and say it’s impossible to escape. When I share my story, they’re very surprised. A lot of my customers stick around to listen to my story even after we’ve arrived at the destination. Even if it’s late at night, people don’t get out of my car until I finish my story.
Returning Home to a Free North Korea | A Glimpse of Reunification in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook is a 2024 LiNK US Scholarship grantee, a Fulbright Scholar, and a North Korean defector pursuing a master’s degree in international development at Brandeis University, where she focuses on post-conflict, economic, and human development. She holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and international peace from Korea University.
In the spring of 2045, on a flight from Incheon to Pyongyang, Emma's hands tremble. Her husband Sam reaches over and, steadily, holds them without a word. She turns to the window and stares into the pale clouds below the wing.
“I’ve waited 30 years for this day,” she whispers. “But now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel real. I hope this isn’t a dream.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Sam replies. “The dream became real.”
She closes her eyes. In 2015, at just fifteen years old, she crossed the frozen Yalu River in a dark March morning, leaving without saying a proper goodbye to her mother. That guilt, its intensity, has never faded, not even after thirty years. It simply learns to live quietly beside her.
“Will Mom recognize me?” she asks. “We parted when I was fifteen. I’m forty-five now.”
“She will,” Sam answers. “How could a mother not recognize her daughter?”
Emma says nothing. Will I... be able to recognize her? She does not say it aloud this time.
An announcement comes through the cabin speakers: "This is the first return flight for North Korean defectors to their hometowns. We know how much you have endured. We will carry you safely home."
It is a rare moment of comfort from a South Korean voice. Moments later, the plane lifts into the sky.
An hour later, the plane lands in Pyongyang. Emma weeps quietly, overwhelmed by the thought that across so short a distance, lives in the South and the North had been so utterly, irreconcilably different. For thirty years, she had not been able to cross it, that gap, so small.
From Pyongyang, the journey to Hyesan continues by bus. As the skyline of Pyongyang passes past the window, its taller buildings, its broad avenues, Emma allows herself the fragile hope: perhaps Hyesan has developed too.
After five hours on the road, the bus arrives at Hyesan Station. The apartments and the lay of the land are almost entirely unchanged from when she had left thirty years earlier, as if time had refused to move, as if it had been waiting for her. Emma found herself hoping the same might be true of her mother.
A thirty minutes' walk from the station: that is where her mother's house is.
As if drawn by a magnet, her feet start moving on their own.
Sam asks if they are going the right way. Without hesitation, "Yes," Emma replies. "I used to walk this road every day as a child. It’s still in my body."
He points to a bus queue down the street. "There's a bus queue over there. Want to take it part of the way?" She shakes her head gently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk." "Then we’ll walk," he replies without hesitation. Emma feels another surge of gratitude, grips on his arm and follows her memory home.
Since Emma left her hometown in 2015, the North Korean regime has conducted ten more nuclear tests as of 2045. And yet the face of this neighborhood has not changed by a single detail. The freedom and human rights that should have been the people's return on those tests have been vaporized into the air.
They arrive at a fork in the road. To the left, an alley leads toward the house. A familiar-looking house comes into view, enclosed by a wooden fence. She stops and stands motionless. It is the house, it is her house.
Several minutes pass. Then the door opens. Emma feels her breath catch. For a second, she forgets how to move.
After thirty years, she is here.
This is what the micropolitics of reunification looks like. Grand narratives, speeches, and legal texts may provide its official language, but its lived realities lie in moments, in feelings, like this: a mother and daughter recognizing each other after thirty years apart.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond my expression.
–
Eunsook is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
