(And no, they're not connected)...
On North Korea:
Having lived in South Korea for nearly three years now, people (including myself) are always interested to know about North Korea. Admittedly, I don't really know a lot--partly because I haven't put a lot of my own time or effort into finding out about it, and partly because the north is seemingly becoming more and more separate from the south with each successive generation of Korean people.
From what I've been told, the older generation of Koreans feel as though North and South Korea are still one country, and they still dream of unification into one Korea. This of course makes sense, considering the current older population in Korea were the ones who experienced pre-Korean war living where it WAS one country. The middle generation lies somewhere on the fence; most people would like to see unification occur, but they aren't quite as passionate about it as their older counterparts. It is the younger generation who, and one can't blame them, don't feel any connection at all with the north and are indifferent, or even against, unification of north and south.
Younger generations have grown up in modern-day, technology-oriented, Western society-driven South Korea. This is the tiny little land of 50 million people that has gone from nothing in its post-war state, to having the best internet in the world, huge technological superpowers like Samsung (think the i-phone rivalry), one of the highest rates of plastic surgery in the world, and k-pop stars like PSY (who just performed at the American Music Awards--with MC Hammer).
I recently had the amazing opportunity to go to a talk by a recent North Korean defector. This kid--yes, I say kid--is 20 years old. He was referred to as "Mr. Kim." Here's his story:
When he was growing up, life was good. He remembers taking homemade, packed lunches to kindergarten, where the children spent their days playing and taking naps. Crops were plentiful, and life was comfortable for him and his family. Then, sometime during his childhood (which he now has little recollection of), life became increasingly difficult. People began to get hungry, neighbors starved to death. Children would stay home from school to help their families on the farms. He remembers his mother oftentimes having only a glass of water for her meal so her children could eat what little food they had. He heard of people resorting to cannibalism.
In North Korea, it's not easy to get a driver's license. The only people who can get a license must go through special training and have extensive knowledge of how to fix cars and end up in driving-related jobs. Young Mr. Kim decided that he wanted to do this with his life. His father was angry about this decision. Being a driver was a job that, according to his father, was dangerous and not respectable. He did it anyway.
Mr. Kim was out on a job near the Chinese border. It was nighttime. Across the river he could see a Chinese town lit up by electricity that, as a North Korean, he didn't have the luxury of having. The lights were too alluring and his curiosity got the best of him... He crossed over just to see what was over there, sure to return after this tiny little, meaningless adventure.
That was the last time his feet touched North Korean soil. He refers to himself as an accidental refugee. One of his last memories was when he went to the local market with his younger brother to buy food for the family. They had a little money leftover and his brother asked if they could spend it on a banana, which neither had ever tasted before. A banana was a mysterious luxury that costed as much as a kilo of rice. Being the responsible older brother, he told his younger brother no.
It was unclear in his story how exactly his (unintentional) escape happened, but he somehow fell into the hands of people who would eventually lead him to Thailand. It was a long journey across China, trudging through jungles and being handed off from person to person, all the while depending on others to keep him alive. After some time, he made it to Thailand--where he was imprisoned as an illegal immigrant.
Luckily, Thailand is one of two countries (the other being Mongolia) in the area that won't automatically send North Koreans back to North Korea. End up in Myanmar, or Vietnam, and your journey would have been for nothing.
He didn't share many details of this experience like how long he spent in Thailand, or how long he's been in South Korea. His family didn't know for a long time where he was, but this past August he was able to (illegally, of course) speak to them via mobile phone. When asked what his dreams were for his future, he said he just wants to safely bring his family to South Korea. But, of course, his family is under close watch now after his escape (for certain crimes, three generations of the family will be imprisoned in work camps to pay for the crime--which certainly means this young man can never return to North Korea again).
Before you go and think that he's found his heaven, being away from the crazed country of North Korea, understand this: Even as a North Korean, refugees are treated as foreigners in South Korea, particularly by younger generations. They are discriminated against, can't get good jobs, and are treated as outsiders in xenophobic and proud South Korea. It is becoming more and more common for defectors to in fact return to their families in the north because life in South Korea is too hard. Imagine coming from a land where all of one's energy and focus is put toward surviving day to day, wondering where the next meal will come from, and going to a land where parents spend more money on their daughter's plastic surgery to get a double eyelid, or their son's 16 hours-a-day education than an entire North Korean community will see in a lifetime.
When asked what young Mr. Kim does in his free time these days, he said he just likes to spend it in his church, participating in church activities and helping church members. He doesn't understand the drinking and smoking culture that is so apparent in South Korea's youth, so his church is where he feels most comfortable and accepted. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to North Korea...
A simultaneously beautiful and tragic story of a young man escaping one harsh reality, only to land in another (though, I'm sure he'd take his current situation over his previous any day).
Now, on a lighter note (not to undermine the significance and seriousness of the matter above)...
On Running Away from Kimchi:
I had come across an opportunity to volunteer my time by helping to make kimchi at a local hospital in Jinju. So, I agreed to show up on Tuesday morning at 9am and help dozens and dozens of people with this process. I figured why not? I've been living in Korea for nearly three years and I've NEVER made kimchi! That's horrendous and must be changed! Or, so I thought when I agreed to show up.
So, I got up early, took a bus to the other side of town, hopped in a taxi for the rest of the way, and was dropped in front of the hospital right next to the elaborate kimchi-making station. The night before I had said to my boyfriend on the phone "Watch, it'll be just my luck that the only thing they'll be doing tomorrow will be washing 20 tonnes of cabbage" (I HATE getting my fingers pruney). And what's happening when I step out of the taxi? About 50 people in plastic ponchos and rubber gators up to their chests, washing about 20 tonnes of cabbage in massive tubs of water!
I looked around to see if anybody noticed me (they had been told that I would be coming), lingered a little longer just in case--and then bolted. Yes, I ran away from the kimchi. It was a freezing cold (albeit beautiful) morning, and I wanted nothing to do with ponchos or gators.
Oh well, I tried...
Just the fact that I have the choice--and therefore luxury--to do, and then not do, something like this makes me feel so lucky after thinking about what little choice North Koreans have in their lives. Hearing stories like young Mr. Kim's helps keep me grounded and remember just how good I have it...
On North Korea:
Having lived in South Korea for nearly three years now, people (including myself) are always interested to know about North Korea. Admittedly, I don't really know a lot--partly because I haven't put a lot of my own time or effort into finding out about it, and partly because the north is seemingly becoming more and more separate from the south with each successive generation of Korean people.
From what I've been told, the older generation of Koreans feel as though North and South Korea are still one country, and they still dream of unification into one Korea. This of course makes sense, considering the current older population in Korea were the ones who experienced pre-Korean war living where it WAS one country. The middle generation lies somewhere on the fence; most people would like to see unification occur, but they aren't quite as passionate about it as their older counterparts. It is the younger generation who, and one can't blame them, don't feel any connection at all with the north and are indifferent, or even against, unification of north and south.
Younger generations have grown up in modern-day, technology-oriented, Western society-driven South Korea. This is the tiny little land of 50 million people that has gone from nothing in its post-war state, to having the best internet in the world, huge technological superpowers like Samsung (think the i-phone rivalry), one of the highest rates of plastic surgery in the world, and k-pop stars like PSY (who just performed at the American Music Awards--with MC Hammer).
I recently had the amazing opportunity to go to a talk by a recent North Korean defector. This kid--yes, I say kid--is 20 years old. He was referred to as "Mr. Kim." Here's his story:
When he was growing up, life was good. He remembers taking homemade, packed lunches to kindergarten, where the children spent their days playing and taking naps. Crops were plentiful, and life was comfortable for him and his family. Then, sometime during his childhood (which he now has little recollection of), life became increasingly difficult. People began to get hungry, neighbors starved to death. Children would stay home from school to help their families on the farms. He remembers his mother oftentimes having only a glass of water for her meal so her children could eat what little food they had. He heard of people resorting to cannibalism.
In North Korea, it's not easy to get a driver's license. The only people who can get a license must go through special training and have extensive knowledge of how to fix cars and end up in driving-related jobs. Young Mr. Kim decided that he wanted to do this with his life. His father was angry about this decision. Being a driver was a job that, according to his father, was dangerous and not respectable. He did it anyway.
Mr. Kim was out on a job near the Chinese border. It was nighttime. Across the river he could see a Chinese town lit up by electricity that, as a North Korean, he didn't have the luxury of having. The lights were too alluring and his curiosity got the best of him... He crossed over just to see what was over there, sure to return after this tiny little, meaningless adventure.
That was the last time his feet touched North Korean soil. He refers to himself as an accidental refugee. One of his last memories was when he went to the local market with his younger brother to buy food for the family. They had a little money leftover and his brother asked if they could spend it on a banana, which neither had ever tasted before. A banana was a mysterious luxury that costed as much as a kilo of rice. Being the responsible older brother, he told his younger brother no.
It was unclear in his story how exactly his (unintentional) escape happened, but he somehow fell into the hands of people who would eventually lead him to Thailand. It was a long journey across China, trudging through jungles and being handed off from person to person, all the while depending on others to keep him alive. After some time, he made it to Thailand--where he was imprisoned as an illegal immigrant.
Luckily, Thailand is one of two countries (the other being Mongolia) in the area that won't automatically send North Koreans back to North Korea. End up in Myanmar, or Vietnam, and your journey would have been for nothing.
He didn't share many details of this experience like how long he spent in Thailand, or how long he's been in South Korea. His family didn't know for a long time where he was, but this past August he was able to (illegally, of course) speak to them via mobile phone. When asked what his dreams were for his future, he said he just wants to safely bring his family to South Korea. But, of course, his family is under close watch now after his escape (for certain crimes, three generations of the family will be imprisoned in work camps to pay for the crime--which certainly means this young man can never return to North Korea again).
Before you go and think that he's found his heaven, being away from the crazed country of North Korea, understand this: Even as a North Korean, refugees are treated as foreigners in South Korea, particularly by younger generations. They are discriminated against, can't get good jobs, and are treated as outsiders in xenophobic and proud South Korea. It is becoming more and more common for defectors to in fact return to their families in the north because life in South Korea is too hard. Imagine coming from a land where all of one's energy and focus is put toward surviving day to day, wondering where the next meal will come from, and going to a land where parents spend more money on their daughter's plastic surgery to get a double eyelid, or their son's 16 hours-a-day education than an entire North Korean community will see in a lifetime.
When asked what young Mr. Kim does in his free time these days, he said he just likes to spend it in his church, participating in church activities and helping church members. He doesn't understand the drinking and smoking culture that is so apparent in South Korea's youth, so his church is where he feels most comfortable and accepted. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to North Korea...
A simultaneously beautiful and tragic story of a young man escaping one harsh reality, only to land in another (though, I'm sure he'd take his current situation over his previous any day).
Now, on a lighter note (not to undermine the significance and seriousness of the matter above)...
On Running Away from Kimchi:
I had come across an opportunity to volunteer my time by helping to make kimchi at a local hospital in Jinju. So, I agreed to show up on Tuesday morning at 9am and help dozens and dozens of people with this process. I figured why not? I've been living in Korea for nearly three years and I've NEVER made kimchi! That's horrendous and must be changed! Or, so I thought when I agreed to show up.
So, I got up early, took a bus to the other side of town, hopped in a taxi for the rest of the way, and was dropped in front of the hospital right next to the elaborate kimchi-making station. The night before I had said to my boyfriend on the phone "Watch, it'll be just my luck that the only thing they'll be doing tomorrow will be washing 20 tonnes of cabbage" (I HATE getting my fingers pruney). And what's happening when I step out of the taxi? About 50 people in plastic ponchos and rubber gators up to their chests, washing about 20 tonnes of cabbage in massive tubs of water!
I looked around to see if anybody noticed me (they had been told that I would be coming), lingered a little longer just in case--and then bolted. Yes, I ran away from the kimchi. It was a freezing cold (albeit beautiful) morning, and I wanted nothing to do with ponchos or gators.
Oh well, I tried...
Just the fact that I have the choice--and therefore luxury--to do, and then not do, something like this makes me feel so lucky after thinking about what little choice North Koreans have in their lives. Hearing stories like young Mr. Kim's helps keep me grounded and remember just how good I have it...
