Hard times for hard workers

Amy Goodhew discovers that for the people of North Korea the struggle to survive is an everyday event.

How often does a Westerner have the chance to visit such a mysterious place as North Korea?

This was forefront in my mind when I accepted an invitation to travel to The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK).

However, in the week leading up to my visit some extraordinary events caused me to pause and try to control my rapidly spiking blood pressure. You may have seen the headlines: the sentencing of two American journalists accused of illegally crossing into North Korea to 12 years “hard labour”; the nuclear weapons test; the short range missile test; the announcement that the North was abandoning the armistice with the South and the apparent intention of testing an intercontinental ballistic missile.

It was amid this general escalation of hostilities that we decided to continue our plans to spend three days in a blank spot in the maps of Asia: North Korea.

A long bridge over the Tumen River connects the immigration buildings of China and The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.

The DPRK building stands alone on the side of a barren hill with a dirt road snaking over the crest. Stepping tentatively inside, pictures of the Eternal President, Kim Il Sung, and the Dear Leader, Kim Jong Il, look down from the wall at proceedings.

The room is seemingly untouched from the 1950s and filled with people wearing the uniform that Kim Jong Il has made famous. Every chest bears a badge of the President’s face over the flag of the DPRK.

Eager to demonstrate my compliance, I sat meekly to the side with my travelling companions — the Rev. John Barr, Associate Director for Church Solidarity Asia, and Mr Hong, who heads up UnitingWorld’s projects in North Korea — while our assigned intelligence officer strode around purposefully with our passports.

Eventually, we were given the nod to proceed through security and into an old Toyota moonlighting as a taxi. We all piled in and started the long, winding drive over mountains and into valleys filled with rice fields and vegetable gardens towards Rason city, the port town where the Uniting Church projects are located.

What followed was three days with zero contact with the outside world; no news, mobile phones, internet, only one TV channel and no unescorted travel.

Two Government officers accompanied us 24-hours-a-day and had to approve all our photos and interactions.

We arrived in planting season, a time where everyone from office workers to farmers to high school students was in the rice paddies, hard at work. The North Koreans are tremendously hard workers and their beautifully-kept rice paddies reflect that.

Rason is a loose collection of large concrete buildings adorned with red political slogans, each ending in an exclamation mark.

We were shown to the special hotel for foreigners to deposit our bags before heading to the orphanage to oversee the deposit of 36 tonnes of rice that we brought in with us. The rice will be distributed to workers associated with UnitingWorld projects.

Food is scarce in the DPRK, particularly at the end of a long and difficult winter which reaches lows of -15ºC.

Like everybody else in the country, the children at the orphanage rise early and work hard throughout the day. They eat at dawn and dress before their hour-long walk to the local primary school.

They return to the orphanage for lunch — so four hours of their day is spent walking. In the winter, this proves particularly challenging for the little ones.

The next day John and I joined Mr Hong who also rises early and we walked to the orphanage to see the children off before school. At 6 am the streets were already busy, being swept clean by conscientious citizens.

Mr Hong and his wife come from the Korean Church of Melbourne, a Uniting Church congregation, and have been working in North Korea since 2002.

They have achieved incredible things. They work with the permission of the North Korean Government in the north-eastern corner of the country, which has been designated a special economic zone. This means that foreigners have been allowed to work there.

Rason is a warm water port (a port that will not freeze over in winter) which has enormous economic potential for the region. Unfortunately, this potential is yet to be realised and most of the inhabitants of the region are still poor.

The Hongs work with local people in their projects: an orphanage, computer skills training school and a TB clinic. They also have projects under construction: a nurses’ school and a larger TB clinic.

It is a constant struggle to find funds for the projects and there is a lot of work to be done.

Mr Hong hopes to find resources to buy a school bus for the children, finish the construction of his medical facilities, buy bed frames and mattresses for those who lie dying of TB, find enough TB medication, acquire a second x-ray machine and create an ambulance/mobile health clinic for those who have no way to access medical care.

Our visits to the TB clinics were sobering. Within Rason we visited the testing centre and saw the long line waiting for their turn in the x-ray machine.

Outside Rason, on the side of a lonely mountain, is another centre where they send the patients who have little hope. One patient had died during the morning and another wasn’t expected to make it through the day.

We struggled to find an appropriate response to such preventable suffering.

However, in the midst of those struggles we were grateful to experience the extraordinary generosity and kindness of the North Korean people. Everywhere we went we were met with gracious hospitality and warmth.

I had worried about the food shortages in the country and had packed muesli bars to sustain me but I needn’t have worried — we were extremely well fed.

As we left the country in the driving rain (very good news for the farmers) I bowed to our Government escort and said , Kam- sa- ham- ni- da. Chosun cho-sum-ni-da, Donji (thank you very much. Korea is good my friend) in my dreadful Korean.

While my language skills were inadequate, I think he appreciated my sincerity. He replied that I would be welcome back again. I hope to take him up on that offer some day.

Now back in our Australian consumer culture, I can’t get the people of the DPRK out of my head: our government escorts, one with three children under 5, the other with teenagers; the doctor at the TB clinic who used her own mouth to draw out fluid causing lung blockages because she lacks the proper equipment; the children who walk four hours every day just to get to school; and the nameless people who smiled and bowed as we passed them in the street.

These are the people that I wish that we thought of in the West when we hear talk of tougher sanctions and nuclear programs.

The DPRK may be a considered a “rogue state” by many. Yet there are millions of ordinary people simply trying to survive. They will be the real victims in any conflict.

Amy Goodhew is Communications Coordinator for UnitingWorld.

Please support Uniting Church Projects in North Korea through UnitingWorld. We can make a difference to lives of ordinary people. To learn more, visit www.unitingworld.org.au or call 02 82674269.