Yoon Ha's Story: Part 1 - Life in North Korea
Yoon Ha resettled to South Korea through LiNK’s network about a year ago. She recently shared her story with us. This is part one of three. Continue to part two.
When I was asked, “How was your life in North Korea?” for the first time, I just started crying because my life there was so hard. It was so hard.
When I was a little kid my mom left me, my younger sister, and my dad, because of our financial struggles. I felt so abandoned and unloved.
And even though I was young, I had to start working to contribute to my family’s finances. My sister and I would forage for plants in the mountains and riversides. We carried the herbs, roots, and pinecones on our backs, walking for three hours to get to the marketplace. We sold our stuff so we could get corn powder to eat. And then we would walk the three hours back to our house. It was very, very hard.
In my late teens my father passed away. I was devastated. After a few years of living with relatives, my sister and I moved back to live with our mom again. But we were still very poor. People would make fun of us for being so poor and not having a father around. I felt a lot of shame about my family and living situation.
When I was 22, my mom asked me to start living with a man much older than me to lessen the financial burden on my family. I didn’t like living with him at all.
I decided to leave my hometown to find a better life somewhere else. I walked for a few days to get to Hamhung, one of the biggest cities in North Korea, hoping I could find work there.
In the city, I did a lot of things to make money. I would sell gas lighters and secondhand vinyl. I had to do it secretly because it was illegal. And it never paid well--just enough to buy food. I was staying at homes, cheap inns, empty houses, and even sleeping on the streets and next to graves when I had to. Sometimes I got beaten by people from the city because they didn’t like that I was making money but wasn’t from there.
I worked there for many months, but I couldn’t save any money so I decided to go back to my mom’s place. My mom and my sister were still struggling, and having me back was a burden to them. So I left home again and walked to Pyongyang to find work. In North Korea you need a special permit to move to different cities, and I didn’t have one. I got caught and sent to jail for 10 days.
After I was released, I started walking to other cities again to find work. I knew I might get caught by the police again, but I couldn’t go home. I walked a lot. Walking was the only way I could travel to where I needed to go.
I made it to another town and found work crushing ore to extract gold. The work was illegal and we would do it secretly in people’s houses. In one of these houses, I got beat up and got kicked out. I didn’t do anything wrong; they just didn’t want to pay me. Even after that incident I continued to do the same work in other houses. For the first time in my life, I had made a decent amount of money--enough to buy 100 kg of corn.
I was so happy. I would be able to bring some money to my mom and sister so we could eat food for a while. I also missed my family, so I started heading home.
At a bus station on the way home, a woman and her daughters asked me to get water for them. They stole all of my money and ran away.
I couldn’t handle all the bad things that kept happening to me. It felt like my life was hopeless and pathetic. I went to a river near the bus station to commit suicide. But right when I was about to jump into the river, all of sudden a thought came over me.
“Why do I have to die? Why? I've not done anything wrong. I'm still only in my early 20s.” I made the decision to live and make the better life I wanted.
Instead of going home, I started walking again. I just kept going north. Even though I was so hungry, the hope for a better life drove me to keep walking.
After walking for days, I somehow arrived in Hyesan, a city on the border with China. I saw many people like me, who had been wandering around in search of food and work. I had travelled to many different parts of North Korea, and came to the conclusion that life was difficult everywhere in my country.
A couple in their 30s or 40s approached me and asked how old I was. I told them my age, 23. They asked if I wanted to go to China. They said I could have a better life there.
“A better life? Yeah, I would do anything to have a better life.”
So I decided to go to China with them. I was so focused on having a better life; I didn’t ask many questions. A few days later, in the darkness of night, we crossed the river into China.
Continue reading with part two.
“Until I Escaped from North Korea, I Thought the Kim Family were Gods” – Bella’s Story
I was 10 years old when I escaped from North Korea.
Sometimes, when people hear this, they assume I don’t feel close to my North Korean identity because I left at such a young age. But I can clearly remember my childhood, my most impressionable years, shaped by the hands of the regime.
Through songs and schooling, every aspect of my life was warped by indoctrination. In kindergarten, we learned heroic tales about Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il. National holidays were celebrated with special snacks distributed by the government. There were portraits of the Kims prominently displayed in our home, that I cleaned every morning to a wake-up song praising the regime.
I was filled with reverence and gratitude toward the Kim family. To me, they were like gods, and North Korea was my entire universe.
The area of Haesan-si, Yanggang-do where I lived was very cold. We frequently ran out of food to eat, and endured harsh winters with thin clothes and shoes that would fall apart as you wore them. But still, I never questioned the regime. It was the only life I had ever known, so I believed that’s all there was to the world.
The thought of leaving was unimaginable.
When my mother suggested I join her in China, where she had escaped three years prior, I called her a traitor. You betrayed the General. You should come back to North Korea right now–these harsh words came from the mouth of a 7-year-old, who had only ever known propaganda and control. I saw what I was taught to see, and said what I was told to say.
Eventually, my mother arranged for a broker to help me cross the border. My heart soared at the thought of seeing her again, but at the same time, it sank with a heavy weight. I felt guilty for betraying our dear leader. I was frightened by the thought of leaving my home.
I was also leaving behind my father. At 9 years old, I couldn’t have imagined that those moments together would be our last. I was wearing a new padded jacket and snow boots that my dad had bought just for the trip. He held me tight and told me I would be with my mom soon. I carry the memory with me now, just as I carried it with me when I crossed the frozen river at the border. In the dead of winter, my new life began in an unfamiliar country.
We lived in China for six months before arriving in South Korea. During that time, I relearned and realized a lot of new things–like what it felt like to be full. Just being able to eat to my heart’s content brought me so much happiness. Being able to sing songs and watch cartoons and movies that weren’t about the Kim regime was fun and eye-opening.
Friendship and romance, heartbreak and hope–through the lenses of other people’s lives, I saw a world that wasn’t defined by loyalty to a regime. This was a world that was free.
This was the world the North Korean government hadn’t wanted me to see, because I would have realized my life there was not normal.
Arriving in South Korea only made this more apparent. While other children had grown up dreaming of becoming presidents, celebrities, or scientists, I had dreamt of becoming a butterfly, so I could fly close to General Kim Jong-il.
Childhood is when we learn how to see the world, but my view had been distorted by my homeland. At the same time, though, denying North Korea felt like denying myself and my family. I still loved where I came from, even if it hurt me. Reconciling the hurt with the hope helped me realize how to move forward.
Today, I’m pursuing a double major in Political Science & Diplomacy and North Korean Studies at Ewha Women’s University. My dream is to attend law school and help North Korean refugees who are facing legal challenges.
I love North Korea enough to want to change it, for current and future generations. For the children in North Korea now, who think the world starts and ends with the Kim regime. For the children like me, who have grown up and realized that there’s so much more to life, and we are the heroes of our own stories.
I share my story today, asking for the support of people like you. Your attention and support are more powerful than any political regime. Share our stories with more people. Support organizations that are rescuing North Korean refugees and finding ways to send information back inside the country. Help us create a future where children born in North Korea can see and experience the world for themselves.
Free from politics and propaganda, free to discover, and free to dream. There is no greater source of hope than the North Korean people themselves.
In freedom, a vast new world opened up to Bella, one that wasn’t defined by the regime. Each new experience helped her slowly unlearn a decade of propaganda, a process that was accelerated by movies and other forms of foreign media.
Inside North Korea, foreign media is just as powerful. LiNK’s Information Access Programs develop news strategies, technology, and content to send back into the country and empower the North Korean people, ultimately eroding the regime’s legitimacy and control. Help ensure this crucial work can continue.
