Eunbee’s
Story
Choi Eunbee asks a lot of questions.
“How many religions are there in Canada?”
“Do you still live with your parents?”
“What is dating like in Canada?”
She gathers information like a computer – synthesizing each new detail and adjusting her worldview according to the newly acquired information.
Eunbee, 17, dresses in a trendy t-shirt and a short black skirt. When she walks downtown, she blends in with other Seoulites. It is a skill she has carefully crafted since moving from North Korea – the art of assimilating.
A rash adolescent decision led Eunbee to Seoul from North Korea.
Eunbee can still hear her mother and father’s explosive arguments
When she was nine years old, her mother was incarcerated for selling illegal goods on the black market. After her mother was released from prison, home life was never the same. Her parents constantly argued.
When Eunbee was about to enter high school, her parents talked about getting a divorce.
[Video © Ash Abraham. Photos in Pyongyang © Roman Harak, used with permission]
While her parents’ relationship deteriorated, Eunbee soared as an academic. Her marks earned her a highly sought after position in a special youth army. But since her parents were planning on divorcing, Eunbee couldn’t accept the prestigious army post. Divorce effects one’s Songbun in North Korea. Songbun is a caste system based on family background. Eunbee’s parent’s decision to divorce would determine her career path, by putting her in a lower caste.
Eunbee was furious. All of her studying and hard work was meaningless, because of her parents’ divorce.
Left, elementary school students on their way to school. Right, women in the Korean People’s Army. Pyongyang, North Korea. [Photo © Roman Harak, used with permission]
Tumen River, Border of North Korea and China. [Photo used with permission by Open Society Foundation]
“I was rotting away”
On December 31, Eunbee made the decision to go to China. She met up with a friend who also wanted to leave. They escaped into China the next day without a plan.
Eunbee felt the weight of her action when she reached the other side of the river, and realized she could never go back home.
What she now describes as a 16 year old hormone-fueled decision affected the rest of her life.
“The first six months I spent in China, my tears never dried,” says Eunbee. “I couldn’t go back, because I didn’t want to endanger my family.”
Shortly after arriving in China, Eunbee and her friend were sold to men in the countryside. Human trafficking is rampant along the China North Korean border. China’s one-child policy left towns like those bordering North Korea with few female prospects for farmers.
Trafficking is especially common for North Korean women who enter China without any identification.
Eunbee wants to forget her time in China. “I was rotting away,” she says. “My life was destroyed in China. I didn’t want to leave North Korea only to be destroyed and rot away in China.”
She heard about the route leading to South Korea, and considered escaping from her arranged marriage. She also wanted to go back to school.
In time, Eunbee gathered courage to purchase a fake I.D. She travelled by train on the “underground route” to Thailand. She escaped from her trafficker, and set out for South Korea with several friends.
“I pretended that I was confident.” To make sure the police wouldn’t detect she was North Korean, Eunbee’s Chinese friends spoke for her.
“It was like hell,” she says. “I was sweating, because of my different accent.”
The women travelled together without brokers.
“No one protected us. We were just girls,” says Eunbee.
[Video © Ash Abraham. Art by Golbon Moltaji]
Eunbee was ready to start her life in South Korea. For the first time since her decision to leave North Korea, she was able to freely make decisions for herself. She liked choosing what to do with her time. But the experience was also isolating. She was alone.
“After Hanawon I was sad and depressed. I was alone,” she recalls. “I was also confused. I got a cell phone, and I kept thinking is this really mine?”
Eunbee wanted to blend into South Korean society. She became obsessed with the way she spoke and looked – each night playing back a long list of the errors she made in the day.
“I didn’t want to make a mistake or fail. I was very stressed and worried,” she says.
Letting her accent show, using older words instead of the new English words or not knowing a common South Korean pop culture reference would alert people to the fact she was from North Korea. They may judge her, and it could be difficult for her to make friends.
“This stress came from a desire to build relationships with others. It was very difficult, because I want to be perfect,” she says.
Eunbee has her guard up at all times. She purposely doesn’t have any South Korean friends, saying she’s not ready.
Seoul, South Korea. [Photo © Ash Abraham]
Crossing the line
“Sometimes, when I am happy, when things are going really well, that’s when I make a mistakes and cross the line,” she says.
For Eunbee, crossing the line means saying something in a North Korean accent or not knowing something obvious to South Koreans like the name of a K-pop song.
To alleviate some of her social anxiety, Eunbee moved into a group home with other North Korean women. It is a good solution for her while she studies English and learns the nuances of South Korean culture.
The first national holiday Eunbee passed in South Korea was difficult. Most of the other North Korean women have family in the country.
“I tried not to express my sadness or my loneliness, because I wanted to look fine,” she says.
“Be a perfectionist don’t express.”
Returning to North Korea
Eunbee often thinks about going back to North Korea.
“I don’t know where my home is,” she says. “I live in South Korea and that’s why my home is maybe here. But my home where I spent a long time is in North Korea.”
Eunbee hopes that she will gain confidence to be able to make friends with South Koreans. She even hopes to date a boy.
“I don’t want a boyfriend to have prejudice or treat me differently,” says Eunbee. “If I find someone I really love, then maybe I can reveal myself from the beginning. But if I don’t trust this person, then I don’t know.”