My Journey to Freedom
By Choi Jung-hyeon
1. Why I Had to Leave My Home Country
During my thirty-seven years of living in North Korea, I was a loyal supporter of Kim Il Sung and his son, Kim Jong Il. I didn’t know that my displeasure with the North Korean feudalistic caste system was gradually growing, and I was unexpectedly involved in an anti-worker’s party and anti-revolution conspiracy, and Manse (hurrah) incident. Then, I had no other choice but to defect.
My young days were glorious. I was the school leader of the Youth Corps and Socialist Workers Youth Confederation. I was always one of the top students in school, and often cited publicly as one of the several honorable students in my county. But, not everything was so promising. As my father was branded a “Returned People” since he had evacuated inevitably together with the North Korean People’s Army from South Korea during the Korean War and he was of South Korean origin, I could not be admitted to the top university. After enlisting in the army, I had the opportunity to meet ‘noble’ men, and with their help, I was able to be promoted to political leader of the company and to battalion propaganda officer. Although I was given the honorable title of “competent voluntary worker” in the army, I was dishonorably discharged from the service because my family background was classified as ‘bad’ since my father came from the South during the Korean War and therefore was not trustworthy. When I was serving as a worker’s party secretary at my workshop (800 employees), I was charged of taking sides with and sheltering a group of anti Workers’ Party and anti-revolution sectarian workers. So the NDA tortured me during harsh and persistent interrogations. I was narrowly acquitted of the charges but I lost my job and party membership. Namely, I became disabled socially as well as politically. The Chosun (North Korean) Worker’s Party, nicknamed “Mommy Party”, kicked out such a devoted party member like me, yearning for “Mommy Party’s” breast, without any hesitation.
2. How I Fled the Country
A. First Border Crossing
On May 2, 1997, I left my wife and children at Hamhung city in Hamnam, and three days later arrived at Hoiryeong city in Hambuk, a city located at the northeastern part of Korea. During the journey, I had an attack of paratyphoid fever, which delayed my journey for more than a month. On June 27th, I crossed the border waterway between China and North Korea in the vicinity of Shinhak-po, Hoiryeong city. Once on the Chinese side of the border, I hurried in the direction of Kai Shan Tun, Longjing City. On the way I met a Korean-Chinese fishing on the Tumen River. He introduced me to another Korean-Chinese, Mr. Lee, and at around 23:00 hours on June 29 I arrived safely at his home in Ji Dong County, Hellong Jiang Province, China.
Having stayed there for about a week helping him to farm, I borrowed 700 won from Lee and left for North Korea again to bring my family into China. Around 14:00 hours, July 8, in broad daylight I crossed the Tumen River back in front of Gwanpyeong Station, Onseong-gun of Hambuk, North Korea, and went on walking along the railroad in the direction of Sambong Station, Onseong-gun. Then, I encountered North Korean border guards from the 1st Company, 1st Battalion of the 27th Brigade. I was arrested on the spot, and taken into the duty officer’s room handcuffed. The next morning, I was transferred to the headquarters of the battalion at around 0900 hours, where all the food and money with me was confiscated by the NDA battalion leader, and moved to the Hoiryeong Office of the National Defense Agency on the same day, July 14th.
In an interrogation that lasted for about four hours in the Anti-spy Department’s office of Hoiryeong’s NDA, officials asked such questions as “Who did you meet and where? What did you see and what did you hear of? What did you say? Have you seen any South Koreans there? Why did you go to China?” I tried my best to assure them that there was no political motive in my border crossing to avoid any further entanglement. As soon as the interrogation ended, I was taken to a prison cell in the basement of the building.
The underground prison cell was divided into three and filled with about forty inmates of all ages, from infants to elders in their sixties. At first I couldn’t breathe properly because of nasty odors filling the room from the human wastes, sweat, and the stink.
Prison rations were terrible, and several spoons of the scorched rice swollen with water were all I got for three meals a day. There was a large twenty-liter can in the corner of the cell to be used as a toilet. When the can was filled up, we emptied it outside. All the inmates were defectors from North Korea, except a twenty-five-year-old man named Park Gwang-hae from Saneop-dong, Hoiryeong City of Hambuk. They were being transferred day and night to the local stations of the Social Security Office (police) or the local NDA offices in their hometowns, and newcomers filled in. No one seemed to stay here for more than fifteen days.
I cannot forget a twenty-year-old young man named Lee Seong-cheol from Mayang-dong, Hoiryong City, who was one of my cellmates in Cell No.1. He told me that he was arrested by the Chinese police a year before at the front gate of the American Embassy in Beijing, where he wanted to enter but was refused. I treated him just like I did my younger brother, and so he trusted me. He often whispered, frightened, in my ears about the fear he had for his uncertain future, “Elder brother, what do you think about my future? Surely they wouldn’t kill me, would they?”
I tried to find an opportunity to escape. Almost neglecting water and meals, I digged underneath the chimney from the basement to the ground for a secret passage to the outside. I volunteered to empty the toilet can outside to seek a chance to escape. But everything was in vain, and fifteen days passed. On July 25, 1997, two NDA convoy officials from my hometown, Hamhung, stood in front of me to escort me to their office. At around 11:00am on the same day, we left Hoiryong for Hamhung. After four days of a long and tough journey on foot, freight train, and by vehicle, sometimes with meals but sometimes without, we arrived at Dancheon Station in Hamnam, where we would wait for another train to the south. Three hours before the train was supposed to arrive, the convoy officials decided to get some rest and went into the office of the NDA, in Danchong.
The guards allowed us to rest on the ondol room of the office cafeteria, and the exhausted convoy officials fell asleep deeply in less than 10 minutes after they sat down. They were too tired to watch me, still handcuffed at the corner of the room. My instinct told me that this was a chance in a thousand, so I got up and sneaked to the door. I tried to open the door as quietly as possible, but my handcuffs hit the door handle inadvertently, making a sudden clink. I saw both of my convoy officials raising their heads with drowsy eyes. There was no time to think. I jumped on them, attacking them with punches and kicks. Then, I dashed out of the room handcuffed, jumped over the fence and ran. I went on foot about ten kilometers, covering the handcuffs with the ends of my jumper, to a nearby mountain looking for a hideway. As night set in, I went down the mountain and found a village where I met two poor orphan boys who helped me cut off the handcuffs. My journey to the north started again back from my hometown, Hamhung.
B. Second Border Crossing
On August 2, 1997, I arrived at Hoiryeong of Hambuk again, and eleven days later at 1:00 am I crossed the border into China where the Hoiryong stream and Tumen River join, with the help of my old friend, Kim sister, living in Hoiryong. I went again to Lee’s house in Ji Dong County, Hellong Jiang Province, and worked at his farm for six months to pay back the 700 won I had borrowed from him. Then, I worked in a mine until September of 1998, receiving a monthly pay of 300 won.
At four a.m., October 1st 1998, I listened to the news on the memorial ceremony dedicated to Ah Jung-geun, a great patriot, through the KBS Social Education Broadcasting Radio program on my digital radio which I was always carrying with me as a branch of my body. On that program, I was impressed by the “national consciousness,” stressed by two gentlemen from South Korea, Won and Choi. I decided to visit them to ask for their help to flee to South Korea, and I left for Yanbian that evening. I met them, but to my disappointment they turned down my request.
Having lost my way, I spent several nights awake in a video room or at the station, and began to wander about the city, searching for somebody from South Korea who might help me. Fortunately, I was able to meet a man named Lee from Seoul, Korea, who helped me find my relatives in South Korea. With their financial support, I was able to smuggle my wife and my son from North Korea into China, leaving my ten-year old daughter behind since she was staying at the house of her mother’s sister at that time.
In June of the same year, I tried to bring my daughter to us. But by that time, my daughter was under close surveillance by the NDA staff. Holding her as a hostage, they lured me for a chance to arrest me. Their cunning scheme failed, but through their stubbornness, they found my whereabouts. On Junly 8th, 1999, they made a surprise attack. Fighting hand to hand with the North Korean hijacking team, I fortunately escaped, but needed a 2000 gram blood transfusion to survive the deep stabbing wounds I suffered during the attack.
Then, at 0030 hours, Aug 3rd, 1999, there was another surprise attack at our living quarters by the arrest task force of the NDA, from which I could escape together with my wife as a result of their poor operation, but we both had a cerebral concussion as a result.
My thirty-seven year life in North Korea shows vividly the violation of human rights by North Korea. From my experiences of the tough journey to freedom, you may easily realize that the North Korean totalitarian dictators’ killing operations against defectors, who they believe are threatening even a little bit the maintenance of their political system, have reached the most extreme level.
This space does not allow me to write down all my heartburning stories. Considering that my daughter may be searching for her mom and dad, and wandering about begging for food together with my kinsmen in the dark and frozen land, my throat is choked with tears.
