North Korean Refugee Stories: Meet Joo Ri
Joo Ri never knew what it felt like to be envious of others as a child. Growing up in Pyongyang, daughter to a supervisor at the Ministry of Industry, she had no idea that life could be filled with anything but laughter and happy memories. Even after losing her parents at an early age, her father's name and position were enough to keep her going to the best schools and within the right circles in Pyongyang. After falling in love right after completing her army duty, she decided to get married and move with her husband back to his hometown near the North Korea-China border. Even though she was leaving her home, she felt it a small sacrifice to be with the person she loved.
At first, Joo Ri did not mind that life outside Pyongyang was less glamorous. All she wanted was to care for her family and lead a happy life. However, adversity and hardship started to wash over her in slow, steady waves. By the time she gave birth to her second child, her family was chronically short of food and resources. Thus, Joo Ri decided to obtain traveling passes to Pyongyang and sell goods on the route to and from her home. While this was able to sustain a life for her and her family, she started to feel trapped, suffocated, and helpless. The life she had led in Pyongyang was nothing but a memory.
After losing her husband, Joo Ri realized that she could not take living under such bleak oppression any longer. In the dead of night, she was successfully able to sneak through the border into China. Immediately after crossing, she had to go into hiding for months before eventually being sold as a bride to a Chinese man. Unable to let her guard down, she lived in constant fear and anxiety, restricted to her home, until one day the local police conducted a raid where she was caught, detained, and immediately repatriated to North Korea.
Joo Ri was sentenced to over a year in a forced labor camp where she was barely fed, and forced to work more than half the day without rest. Experiencing such ruthless treatment only made her crave freedom more, and immediately after being released, she took to the border again. This time, however, she was unsuccessful. She was caught attempting to cross the border and sentenced to more than 3 years in a re-education camp.
There, she was stripped of her name, hit, slapped, punched, beat, kicked, hung by her wrists from the ceiling, and pushed into a water well, the water level sitting over her knees, where she was forced to stay for a month. In order to survive, she ate bugs and leaves, but she still lost all of her hair and all but one of her top teeth due to starvation.
After being released from the re-education camp, Joo Ri went back to her hometown so she could recuperate and gain back her strength. During this time she had more than seven people, from friends to secret police, spying on her at any given time. Unable to give up the desire for happiness, but now fueled by anger and resentment for the people who had done so much wrong to her, Joo Ri snuck out in the middle of the night, making her sixth attempt to cross the border. This time, she was able to make it into China, and by a stroke of luck, connected with LiNK's network.
Joo Ri is overjoyed to start her new life in South Korea. Even though she suffered so much, she has not lost her sense of compassion, and hopes to work with resettled North Korean children and elderly people. She has also started writing a memoir depicting her life.
Joo Ri hopes to bring light to the situation in North Korea and advocate for the friends and family she left behind.
Thank you for helping supply the funds for Joo Ri’s rescue. Your efforts have changed her life and have provided the opportunity for her to enjoy her new liberty.
Remembering North Korea: Today, I’m Happy Because I Can Have Ice Cream
By: Hyeyoung Woon
Hyeyong escaped from North Korea in 2009. She currently works as a financial accountant, and strives to grow her ability as a storyteller and writer to share her personal experiences as a North Korean defector.
There are days when happiness feels complicated.
And then there are days when it feels very simple.
For me, sometimes, it is just ice cream.
When I was young in North Korea, ice cream was very different.
We had “eoreum bosunge” which is sweet pink water frozen in a small metal can with a stick inside. It was icy and rough, and the taste was so strong. That was all I knew.
But everything changed on my first day in South Korea.
I went to a small neighborhood store with my mom and that was where I first saw an ice cream called “Pure Milk”.
At that time, I had just started becoming interested in the English language, so maybe that is why the name caught my eyes.
I picked it up and took a bite.
And honestly, it felt like a different world.
It was soft, smooth, and full of real milk flavor.
Until then, ice cream had only meant frozen sweet water to me. I did not know something so simple could taste so real.
After that day, I kept choosing the same ice cream again and again.
Of course, now I know there are more expensive and famous ice creams in the world and, just like that, my life has changed too.
But maybe that is why I still choose Pure Milk.
Not because it is the best,
But because it reminds me of who I used to be.
When I first came to South Korea, everything felt new and exciting.
And little by little, this new world made me forget the old one.
Maybe that is part of growing up.
Or maybe it is part of learning how to survive in a new society.
But sometimes, I become afraid that my old memories are slowly fading away too.
That is why small things like this ice cream still matter to me.
They remind me of where I started.
They help me keep a part of myself that I do not want to lose.
And I still want to remember the girl who once believed pink frozen water was enough to be called ice cream.
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Hyeyoung 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.
