The North Korea I Remember: School, Family, and Home
By: HyeGyeong Joo
HyeGyeong is a PhD student in the Department of Economics at Korea University, specializing in theoretical economics. Her research looks at developing theoretical models of the North Korean economy. Since 2022, Hye-Gyeong has also participated in LiNK’s English Language Program.
Have you ever wanted to go home even while you were already at home? Because I have. It feels as though I am not longing for a physical house, but for something harder to name: a sense of belonging, of being whole, of belonging not anywhere but somewhere I would truly belong. Instead, I often feel emptiness, as if I do not fully belong. But I am not sure what these feelings mean or where they come from exactly.
I have been living in South Korea for around ten years, but I still miss North Korean food, school life, and above all, the time I spent with my family. There are restaurants in South Korea run by North Korean refugees, and sometimes their dishes bring back memories of home. Foods like injogogi-bap or nongma-guksu remind me not only of North Korean cuisine, but of birthdays, family, and everyday life.
The long strands of nongma-guksu always carry the wish for a long life, while the taste of injogogi-bap brings back the memory of a soybean dish made to resemble the meat we so rarely had.
While these foods remind me of home, what I remember most vividly is my school life in North Korea. When I was in fourth grade, the girls in my school would often gather in the schoolyard to play jump rope. I was actually quite good at it. We would start with the rope at ankle height and gradually raise it higher and higher.
One day, when the rope had been raised to about head height, I tried to jump over it. Since I was quite short, I had to lift my leg as high as I could. Unfortunately, I ended up tearing my pants. I was so embarrassed that I almost cried. But what I remember most clearly is my teachers laughing so hard as they watched from the side. Even now, I can still picture that moment vividly.
I also remember winter lunchtime at school. We all brought packed lunches from home. In one corner of the classroom, there was a stove, and before lunch, students would place their lunch boxes on top of it to warm their food.
Sometimes, the lunch box closest to the stove would get burnt. During class, the smell of scorched rice would fill the room and make us so hungry that it was hard to focus. When lunchtime finally came, my friends and I would gather around the stove, sit in a circle, and eat together.
More than anything else, however, I miss the memories of winter. My friends and I would climb the hills near our town, sit on large sacks, and slide all the way down as if we were on sleds. We did it so often that the fabric on the back of our pants would wear thin and eventually tear. When that happened, I would go home only to be scolded by my mother.
Life was not easy in those days. We were often hungry and did not live comfortably. Sometimes we skipped breakfast, and sometimes a thin porridge was all we had for dinner. Yet, despite those hardships, I cannot forget the laughter we shared.
Looking back now, I realize that what I miss is not North Korea as a system. What I miss are the people with whom I laughed and cried, and the memories of my childhood that have stayed with me to this day.
For a long time, however, I could not talk about these feelings to anyone. I kept them to myself, unsure of how others would understand them. That began to change after I met people through Liberty in North Korea (LiNK). For the first time, I found a space where I felt I could speak more honestly about my memories and my life in North Korea.
Through the LiNK English program, I became close to a friend, and together we made a plan to create a book. I would write about real life in North Korea, and she would draw the illustrations for the book. I wanted people to see North Korea not only as a political system, but also as a place where ordinary people live, love, struggle, and create memories.
I shared this plan with someone I trusted deeply in South Korea. But she told me, “No, you can’t!” She said that if I spoke honestly about daily life in North Korea and about how much I miss certain parts of it, despite all the difficulties, people might ask, “Then why are you here? If you miss it so much, why don’t you go back?” Her response hurt me so deeply that I eventually closed my heart to others. After that, I stopped talking about these feelings with anyone. Only later did I finally find a place where I could tell my story freely and without hesitation.
When many people think about North Korea, they often think about politics, missiles, or the regime. But when I think about North Korea, I remember a girl whose pants tore while playing jump rope, students gathering around a stove to eat lunch together, and children laughing as they slid down snowy hills on sacks.
That is why I hope people can see North Korea not only as a political system, but also as a place where ordinary people live their lives. The people living there are not so different from people anywhere else. They laugh, dream, make friends, and create memories. Those are the stories I hope to share.
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HyeGyeong 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.
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North Korean Women's Football Team Arrives in Suwon: Propaganda vs Real People
⏱️ 30-Second Summary
- Inter-Korean Women’s Soccer: The AWCL semi-final between Suwon FC Women and North Korea's Naegohyang Women's Football Club has been confirmed for May 20th at Suwon Sports Complex. This visit by a North Korean sports delegation will be the first of its kind in nearly eight years.
- High-Stakes: In North Korea, social advancement is nearly impossible if one’s “songbun” (political status) is unfavorable. The realm of sports is a rare exception. A win in an international competition secures a jump in social standing. On the other hand, the cost of failure is just as high.
- The Women Behind the Uniform: Two documentaries by Director Brigitte Weich, Hana, Dul, Sed and Ned, Tassot, Yossot offer a glimpse of the passion, friendship, and subsequent lives of North Korean athletes.
The First North Korean Sports Delegation to Visit South Korea in Eight Years
On May 20th, Pyongyang-based Naegohyang Women’s FC and South Korea’s Suwon FC Women will be facing off in the semi-finals of the AFC Women’s Champions League. The match will take place in South Korea at the Suwon Sports Complex. This visit by a North Korean sports delegation will be the first of its kind in nearly eight years. The last time a North Korean women’s football team competed on southern soil was at the 2014 Incheon Asian Games.
The North Korean women’s football team has consistently demonstrated world-class strength. Expectations for their upcoming match are high, naturally leading to questions about the individuals representing the world’s most closed country: How did North Korean women’s football reach this level? Under what conditions are these athletes playing? And how will their lives continue after the match ends?
World-Class Athleticism: North Korean Women's National Football Team
As of April 21, 2026, the North Korean women's national football team is 11th in the FIFA rankings, placing it in the top tier globally. Comparatively, South Korea is ranked 19th. The North Korean team has maintained its status with multiple wings in international tournaments, including the U-17 and U-20 Women’s World Cups.
Naegohyang Women's Football Club is the reigning champion of North Korea's top-tier women's football league, celebrating its 10th anniversary in 2022. In the quarterfinals of the AFC Women’s Champions League, they defeated Vietnam's Ho Chi Minh City Women’s FC to secure their ticket to Suwon.
This strong performance is not limited to just the Naegohyang club. North Korean women’s football has also won the U-17 and U-20 Women’s World Cups multiple times. At the 2025 U-17 tournament held in Morocco, the team once again claimed the title by defeating the Netherlands 3-0.
From Elementary School to Pyongyang
In an interview with Kyunghyang Newspaper, Professor Hyun In-ae of Ewha Women’s University attributed the strength of North Korean women’s soccer “not the the popularization of athletic activities, but rather to state-led selection and development.”
The development of athletes in North Korea begins at a very young age. North Korean authorities reportedly "bring football prodigies from across the country to Pyongyang starting in elementary school and train them systematically." Recognizing that performance in international competitions contributes to the national image, the state provides support ranging from European-style training systems to even overseas training camps.
Medals, Apartments, and Coal Mines: A System Where Winning and Losing Determine One’s Life
In North Korea, social advancement is nearly impossible if one’s “songbun” (political status) is unfavorable. The realm of sports is a rare exception. Winning a medal at an international competition secures a jump in social standing.
For competitions like the Asian Games, individuals who bring home a medal are awarded the title of "Merited Athlete.” For events at the level of the Olympics or World Championships, the “People’s Athlete” honor is bestowed. Decorated athletes with many medals may receive the title of “Labor Hero,” and potentially even the highest distinction of all: "Hero of the Republic." On top of such recognition, unique comforts like athletic pensions, luxury apartments, and imported cars may be rewarded.
On the other hand, the cost of failure is just as high. After losing to a South Korean competitor at the judo finals of the 1990 Beijing Asia Games, Ri Chang-su, a North Korean “Merited Athlete" was sent to labor in a coal mine. He testified as follows: "I truly lived my life working hard for my country, yet simply because I took second place, they sent me to a coal mine and wouldn't even let me quit the sport." After a loss in the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, the entire North Korean men’s national team was summoned to Pyongyang and subjected to a six-hour public criticism session in front of 400 people.
North Korean Sports as a Tool for Propaganda
When it comes to understanding North Korean sports, glory and punishment are inextricably bound together because it serves as a form of propaganda. The regime sees it as a tool to "promote the regime internationally and publicize its achievements domestically."
Following the North Korean women's national football team's victory at the 2024 U-20 tournament, Sin Yong-chol, Chairman of the Football Association under the Ministry of Physical Culture and Sports, remarked in Rodong Newspaper that "sports are precisely a war without the sound of gunfire waged against enemies in peacetime."
For the North Korean athletes coming to compete in Suwon on May 20th, the weight resting on their shoulders is far more than just the outcome of the match.
The Lives of North Korean Women Athletes: Documentary Hana, Dul, Sed
Despite the circumstances under which they play, North Korean athletes cannot be defined solely by the role assigned to them by the regime. Beyond the language of propaganda, there are ordinary people who genuinely love football.
In 2009, Austrian filmmakers Brigitte Weich and Karin Macher released Hana, Dul, Sed (One, Two, Thee), a documentary that closely chronicles the lives of four athletes from the North Korean women's national team: Ri Jong-hui, Ra Mi-ae, Jin Byeol-hui, and Ri Hyang-ok. These women played a pivotal role in elevating North Korean women’s football to world-class status. However, after their elimination in the qualifiers for the Athens Olympics, the careers of the four athletes came to a sudden end.
The film’s protagonists are not the North Korean regime, but the players themselves. Towards the end of the film, Ra Mi-ae, known for her lively personality, and Ri Hyang-ok, known as “the beauty of the team,” reminisce over the friendship they forged during their training days. They mention that since being dismissed from the team, they rarely get to see each other anymore.
Attempting to articulate the allure of soccer, Ri Hyang-ok chokes up, “The moment I stepped into the stadium, my heart opened wide—it felt as though I could embrace the whole world."
Through rare personal accounts, Hana, Dul, Sed offers a humanizing perspective of the athletes who take the field on behalf of North Korea. These individuals are not just tools of the regime, but people driven by the love of the game, just like the members of the teams they face.
The Universal Experience of Women
Five years after Hana, Dul, Sed, Director Weich returned to Pyongyang to meet with the same four athletes featured in her original documentary. She shares the story of how their lives had evolved in the sequel, Ned, Tassot, Yossot (Four, Five Six): The Legends of North Korean Women’s Football (2023).
Even after retirement, the former national football team players have remained close to the sport. They have each established themselves as FIFA-affiliated referees, coaches, or mentors, dedicated to nurturing the next generation of athletes.
The documentary also captures the muti-dimensional nature of these women’s lives. Lee Jung-hee, former goalkeeper of the team, is shown juggling life as a student and as a mother of a young daughter. Anxieties surrounding marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, and raising a family—all while struggling to sustain one’s career—are common themes.
While telling the unique stories of these women in North Korea, the film also conveys a deeper truth, that their lives are not so different from those of women in any other country.
What’s Next: Potential Rematch at the 2027 Brazil World Cup
The AWCL semi-final on May 20th will be the first time North and South Korean athletes face each other on South Korean soil in eight years. Both teams have already secured their spots in the 2027 Women’s World Cup finals. South Korea advanced to the semifinals of the 2026 Asian Cup, while North Korea secured a ticket to Brazil by defeating Taiwan 4–0 in the March playoffs. Depending on the results of the group stage draw, the possibility of a national team rematch remains open.
Beyond the Score, the Right of Twenty-Two Players to Live an Ordinary Day
The upcoming match on May 20th is an opportunity for the world to see this issue—typically treated as political—from a more universal perspective: that of women and sports. The North Korean athletes playing that day are more than subjects of a news report or the public faces of a political regime. They are fellow human beings, taking the field with passion and love for the game.
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