Rewards of Rescue
By Edward Kim
As Eun Hong pinches Eun Ok, Eun Ok shouts, “Ow! What was that for?” Eun Hong answers with a grin on her face, “I just wanted to make sure we’re not dreaming.” The two North Korean girls, who have been friends from childhood, look at each other and smile. The two boys, Guang IL and IL are laughing and playing games on my cell phone. The mood is relaxed and we’re all having fun. It kind of feels like a Junior High slumber party where you stay up late into the night laughing till your sides hurt and telling deep, personal stories that you normally wouldn’t tell. No one wants to sleep. It almost doesn’t seem like it’s the night before the big rescue attempt. The next day the four teenagers will put their lives on the line to try and make it into the British Consulate in Shanghai.
Now that it’s all over, I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on everything. I’ve been asking myself, “Would I do it again?” When I think about the overwhelming stress and responsibility I would say an emphatic “No way!.” The stress and weight of responsibility was unbearable at times. It’s one thing to have the guts to risk your own life. It’s a completely different thing to have the guts to risk other people’s lives, especially when they’re kids. Imagine having a group of people whose very survival depends on the decisions you make. Imagine the eyes looking to you, trusting your intelligence and decision-making to bring them to safety. All it takes is one wrong move. Saying the wrong thing on a tapped phone line, forgetting to check if you are being followed or tailed, a corrupted email. All it takes is one mistake and the people you are leading to safety will most likely be sent to their deaths. I’m the laid-back type that doesn’t ever get too stressed. But during “Operation: God’s Sparrows” there were times when I literally felt sick from the stress. If they were caught, I don’t know how I would be able to live with that all my life.
One person doing the same type of work gave me some helpful advice. He said, “Make sure you tell the North Koreans you are helping, all of the risks and dangers involved. Tell them that they might be caught because if anything happens you don’t want to live with that on your conscience… That has happened to me, and it’s pretty awful.” So although it was hard to tell them, I told each and every one of the teenagers the risks involved. It wasn’t easy, but I explained that there was a chance we could all be caught. Eun Ok begged me for some sort of assurance, she desperately sought a 100% guarantee of safety from me. When I told her I could not promise that, she shouted, “If we get caught we’ll die for sure!” I so much wanted to tell them everything would be ok, but for the sake of my conscience, I could not. I told them the honest truth, and waited for the knot in my stomach to untie, but it didn’t.
We interviewed the four before the rescue attempt for a number of reasons. Now I realize that the interviews were as much for me as they were for them. During the interviews, we had a great time joking around, playing games, telling stories about each other, laughing at my terrible Chinese. I learned a lot about them I didn’t know before. I discovered the deep and painful memories that were buried and hidden in each of their hearts. I asked each one of them, “What is your most memorable moment in North Korea?” Eun Hong started to tell me a story about her brother who is still in North Korea, but she started to cry and couldn’t finish. Some of the others didn’t even want to start talking about their families still in North Korea because it was too painful. One even got upset and said, “How do you expect me to talk about such painful things?”
I got to interview them in their rooms and saw that their life was like imprisonment. I asked the two boys, “How many times a week do you get to go outside?” They said that they didn’t know. Trying to get an answer from them, I asked, “Once a week?” After prying a bit more, I found out that they get to go outside once a month. They get to see the sky and breath fresh air one time every month. Even most prisoners are more privileged than that and get to see the sky more often. They lived locked up in a room 24 hours a day because it was too dangerous to go outside. I saw how much they loved for their families and the people taking care of them in China. I heard them talk about the difficulties of living without parents and the challenges of a refugee live. I heard them share their dreams of: one day getting an education, one day not having to hide anymore, one day having freedom.
While I was interviewing them, it’s at that moment that I realized something. I realized that I would risk imprisonment and even my own life for that child who was telling that story. I would tackle a Chinese policeman for that boy who wanted freedom more than anything else in the world. If it ever came down to it, I would even take a bullet for that beautiful girl who was sobbing right now and had suffered more than a person should ever have to. Throughout the interviews I really fell in love with the kids. And at the end of the talks, I found myself with greater determination and courage to help them.
As I reflect, it’s an unbelievably rewarding experience. They say that you experience some of the closest bonds possible in war. In this kind of work, you get to experience something like that. We all risk imprisonment, torture, or death. That brings us together. There is a special partnership and bond with all of the groups involved. You get to work together with the Korean-Chinese underground churches. You get to be on the front lines with noble missionaries, activists, and Korean-Chinese workers. You get to meet some real heroes. You see the sacrificial giving of financial heroes who give hundreds and thousands of dollars to help North Koreans they’ve never met before. In short you meet and partner with some amazing people. Everyday I worked with them, I really felt privileged to know them.
Then there’s the special bond with the North Koreans you help. You’ve trusted them. You’ve trusted that they are not refugee spies sent from the North Korean government. You’ve heard and believed the stories that they’ve shared. They’ve also trusted you with the thing most precious to them, their lives. They didn’t only give you their possessions. They didn’t only give you a few years of their lives. They literally risked their lives and trusted you and the information you shared with them. They know you care for them and are not in it for any personal gain.
Before the day of the big rescue, I made sure to pray for each one of them. One by one I put a hand on them and prayed for them. I prayed for their future and safety. As I prayed for them they cried a lot. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because my touch was like the touch of the father they don’t have any more. Maybe it’s because my hand on their back reassured them that someone really cares for them. Maybe it’s because my prayer reminded them that God is present in their lives and loves them dearly.
About thirty minutes after the teenagers made it into the Consulate, I called them on a cell phone we left with them. Hearing the gratitude of the North Koreans and their sobbing “thank you’s” was too much. . It’s an unbelievable experience being a part of setting four sparrows free and making such a radical difference in four people’s lives.
So, in this kind of work, there are the overwhelming stresses and dangers on one hand. Then there are the unforgettable rewards on the other. Back to the question people have been asking me, “Would I do it again?”
“Yeah, I’d do it again.”
