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.
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.
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Starting Fresh: A Conversation with Jin Kyung
Jin Kyung escaped North Korea after experiencing her own modern-day Cinderella story. Her parents divorced when she was still young, and for a short time she lived comfortably with her father, but when her father remarried a year later, Jin Kyung’s life took a turn for the worse. Her father often worked away from home, leaving her alone with her stepmother, who scolded and punished her every day. Resolving to find a better life for herself, she escaped to China.
Jin Kyung was sold soon after crossing the border, but the family she had been sold into showed kindness and love to her. Unlike many women who are sold, she was allowed to come and go as she pleased. She came to be fond of the Chinese man and his parents. However, Jin Kyung wasn’t ready to settle for a life as an illegal immigrant in China despite being grateful for a happy home. Her new family helped coordinate her escape to South Korea, which she admits is not a common occurrence. After resettling in South Korea, she attended school and eventually reunited with the Chinese man, who is now her husband. They have a four-month-old son together and she’s currently a stay-at-home mom.
Our resettlement coordinator Anna visited with Jin Kyung and her son recently to see how they're doing.
Anna: What was the best thing that happened to you recently?
Jin Kyung: I’m grateful for every day for numerous reasons. It especially warms my heart to see my baby smiling, although taking care of him is sometimes physically demanding. My husband and I talked about having a second, but I’m not sure if I can handle it if I start attending college. In fact, I also passed the GED this past April and just submitted two college applications yesterday as a hair design and make-up artist major.
Anna: What's your biggest challenge in South Korea?
Jin Kyung: Raising a child is very challenging and sometimes tiring, but I enjoy it so much and want to have a second one as soon as possible.
After I got out of Hanawon and for a few months after that, I felt so lost and clueless.
Anna: How did you overcome the challenge?
Jin Kyung: Although many people recommended for me to go back to school, I only wanted to earn money to send to my family in North Korea. I soon found a job at a factory, but realized that there’s a limitation to the types of careers that I can pursue if I don’t get a proper education. I realized what my priority should be after working in a labor-intensive job at the factory.
Anna: Who has been the biggest help (outside of LiNK) to you since you arrived in South Korea?
Jin Kyung: A teacher from the alternative school that I attended the last few years. She is the one who actually got me interested in studying and led me to gain different perspectives on the world and life. She’s such an enthusiastic person who didn’t mind if I asked her questions, and she was always available when I needed her. I’ve been able to achieve as much as I have up until now thanks to her.
Anna: What was your biggest challenge in North Korea?
Jin Kyung: Living itself was very hard. I always faced starvation and struggled with serious domestic conflict. When I reached puberty, I abruptly left home to escape from that reality.
Anna: What is it like living in freedom in South Korea?
Jin Kyung: I believe resettling in a new society is not easy whether you have more freedom or not. I had an inferiority complex because I had a different intonation and background from South Koreans. For example, I couldn't even understand what a bank clerk was saying to me one time. I used to care so much what other people thought about me. It just takes time to adjust to a new community.
Anna: What is something that you started to do in South Korea that you never did before?
Jin Kyung: STUDY! I've always wanted to attend school to study and make friends since I was back in North Korea, but I had to leave school at a young age for family reasons. At first, I had no confidence in myself to study again, and I was honestly afraid to start anything at that time. The teacher whom I mentioned earlier, she boosted my confidence by lavishing me with praise. She encouraged me with praise for one correct answer instead of scolding me over nine wrong answers. In spite of many unfamiliar words in math, Korean, science, sociology, and history classes, I quickly gained more confidence and started to catch up! I’m still so proud of myself for passing the GED this year and I’m anxious, yet excited, to start college soon.
Anna: Have your perceptions of Americans and South Koreans changed?
Jin Kyung: I honestly had no spare time to care anything other than living day by day. I really didn't know much about other countries, but the fact that I grew up hearing bad things about them gave a negative impression. I actually used to think that the U.S. is the cause of separation of the Korean peninsula and wished that the U.S. had never existed, however, those thoughts all changed once I arrived in China by simply watching Korean movies and dramas.
Anna: What advice would you give to a friend who just arrived in South Korea?
Jin Kyung: I don’t think I’m in a position of giving them advice because there are many defectors who have lived here longer than I have. Nonetheless, I realized a few things as I resettled in South Korea. I wish North Korean defectors opened up their mind more to accept this new culture and engaged with South Koreans. I believe that it’s difficult to understand someone’s hardship if you haven’t been in the same situation, so I, as a North Korean defector, would like take an approach to get along with South Korean friends.
Anna: How often do you think about North Korea? What do you think about?
Jin Kyung: I should, but I tend not to think much about North Korea. I get upset whenever I think of North Korea because it brings out my hurtful memories and struggles. I’m also so sad and feel pity for those who still live under the miserable circumstances.
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