October 19, 2006
10,000 Memories and Hopes in North Korea
In 2001, I visited the Yanbian region of northeastern China as part of a research trip to study the lives of Chosun-jok , ethnic Koreans, living in this previously autonomous region bordering North Korea. I was there to conduct research at Yanbian University of Science and Technology with a collaborator from Ewha Womans University in Seoul, South Korea. It was a fascinating trip, educationally and personally. I learned a tremendous amount about the history of this region, the lives of Chosun-jok and the state of affairs in neighboring North Korea.
Perhaps the most personal part of the visit was my visit to the Chinese-North Korean border along the Tumen River. According to Wikipedia, the word tumen means 10,000 (in Mongolian). To me, it represented 10,000 memories and hopes. Along with a tour guide and driver, we bribed our way into an area heavily guarded by Chinese soldiers but also populated with Chinese, Chosun-jok, and North Koreans buying and selling wares and food. The bridge spanning the river was lonely and stark and yet it was full of hope for tens of thousands of people who walk across each day, week, month, year.
There was a line painted on the side of the bridge to demarcate what part of the river was China and North Korea. As I wandered along the coast, I saw North Korean guards (just a few) patrolling the other side. I wondered at times what they were thinking, seeing, wishing. Were they relatives of mine? Were their families starving? Were they true believers of the Great Leader or simply trying to survive day by day. I noticed the water was quite shallow and receding, so I walked closely along the water. At one point, I even noticed that I had actually crossed into North Korean water, according to the line painted on the bridge.
Here I was, symbolically and literally, in North Korea. A dream of my fathers for the past 55 years since he left in 1951 during the Korean War. It was an odd feeling to be there. To see the poverty, the pollution, the isolation, the abandoned buildings, the absence of life. Was this the Korea of my father's memories and dreams? Was this the place from which I was from? Are my forefathers and mothers calling me from their graves in the town of Sariwon?
In today's New York Times, there is a lead article on North Korean refugees who are fleeing across this river. I also heard an interview on NPR the other day about LINK which is an organization advocating on behalf of the human rights of the people of North Korea.
In the midst of the fears of a rising nuclear crisis in North Korea, it's these people who are lost in the discussion. It is their lives that are hurting the most.
Posted by richlee at October 19, 2006 12:35 PM