Escape from Camp 14

Shin’s mother, father, and older brother were also imprisoned in the labor camp, though, as Shin has emphasized, they were far from a close-knit family unit. Shin’s father was not guilty of any crime; rather, he had been imprisoned as a result of his brothers’ crimes. He and Shin’s mother had agreed to a reward marriage, but he was an infrequent presence in the family’s quarters, and continued to live in a dormitory at his work site. Shin consequently perceived him as little more than a stranger; he felt ongoing resentment towards him, even though he knew that they were both victims of the same feudal system. Likewise, Shin rarely saw his brother.

Shin spent more time with his mother, who never revealed why she was in the camp, but their relationship was cold and antagonistic. For instance, Shin’s hunger would sometimes prompt him to eat his mother’s lunch as well as his own, which would make her furious and she would sometimes issue beatings “as violent as those he later received from the guards” (16). At the time, it did not occur to Shin that his mother would go hungry as a result of his actions: it is only in subsequent years that he gained such awareness. Ultimately, the camp encouraged family members to be disloyal to one another, and it was hardly a conducive environment for love and compassion.

Shin’s mother tried to meet Shin’s gaze before she was executed, but readers have no real understanding of her own thoughts and feelings. We see the other characters largely through Shin’s eyes, and, as he was not close to his mother, he cannot speak on her behalf. It is notable, however, that she tried to help Shin’s brother escape, even cooking him rice for his journey. Shin’s own instinct was to inform on anyone plotting escape, but his mother did not share this view; it’s possible she had not spent her entire life in the camp. That she gave his brother rice stoked the flames of Shin’s resentment: Shin may not have known the symbolic significance of rice in North Korea, but chronic hunger had fostered his preoccupation with food.  

After the execution of his mother and brother, Shin’s father tried to make amends with his son, sending him gifts and apologizing; even though he and Shin were both victims of the camp. He was ultimately powerless to change his and his son’s lives, but Shin felt no sense of closeness with him and avoided visiting him whenever possible. His reaction to Shin’s betrayal of his family members is also significant: he admitted that it was the best course of action, but his “caustic tone” (64) suggested that he disapproved. Whereas Shin’s mindset was shaped entirely by the conditions of the camp, his father seemed to possess a degree of humanity and guilt.

Hong and Moon were a boy and girl from the same village as Shin and who belonged to the same class at school. Shin would walk to school with them every day and regarded Hong Sung Jo as his closest friend. There was generally little trust among the camp’s schoolchildren due to the constant competition for food and the pressure to snitch, but Shin felt that he could trust Hong Sung Jo. This trust is demonstrated when Shin asks his friend for advice after he overhears his mother and brother planning to escape. Hong Sung Jo proved to be helpful in this situation, accompanying Shin to the night guard’s office. Likewise, when the guard later claimed that he was the one who uncovered the escape plan, Hong Sung Jo corroborated Shin’s version of events. He therefore saved Shin from further torture. 

As with the students in general, Shin and his friends were forced to do a great deal of manual labor and suffered various injuries as a result: Moon Sung Sim, for instance, lost her toe in a mine accident aged seven. After graduating high school, however, she was sent to work at the textile factory, while Hong Sung Jo was sent to the mines. Shin never saw either of them again, but being assigned to the mine did not bode well for Hong Sung Jo given the dangers and health issues associated with this environment.

Hong was the leader of Shin’s grade, whom Shin had befriended in the hopes of forming a strategic classroom alliance. After Shin’s imprisonment, however, Hong’s manner became hostile. This was largely in response to their teacher’s attitude, who was annoyed that Shin had not come to him with the news of his brother’s escape plan. The teacher consequently encouraged the other students to beat and bully Shin, and it was in Hong’s own interests to spearhead such behavior. As was typical in the camps, the grade leader was the teacher’s most trusted informant and was authorized to punish students who were not pulling their weight. Significantly, Hong could likewise be punished if the class were not meeting their quotas. It is therefore no surprise that individuals in this position were inclined to exercise their authority.

After Shin’s mother and brother were executed, Hong began to pay particular attention to Shin. When Shin struggled with a road repair assignment, for example, Hong did not assist him nor order the other students to do so; rather, he started to beat Shin with a shovel. Likewise, when he observed Shin eating an ear of corn that he had found in a pile of straw, Hong told the teacher that Shin was shirking his responsibilities and scavenging for food.

Hong served as the teacher’s second in command and helped to put a regime of bullying into effect. However, when the teacher was replaced with a more compassionate successor, Hong’s behavior and that of the other students changed accordingly. Hong became Shin’s friend again, highlighting the extent to which the students’ behavior was dictated by their superiors and the rules of the camp. The two boys got on well from then on but parted ways when they graduated from secondary school and Hong was sent to the mines.

When Shin was sent to the underground prison, Kim Jin Myung—who went by the nickname ‘Uncle’—was his cellmate. Uncle was aged around 50 and refused to say why he had been imprisoned, though he had been there a long time and missed the sight of the sun. Shin noticed that he seemed to have special standing with the guards, who cut his hair, gave him extra food, and were willing to tell him the time of day when he asked.

Uncle displayed a caring nature and tended to the wounds that Shin had suffered during his interrogations. Furthermore, his calm, competent manner suggested that he had experience of this kind of work. Shin’s time in prison was made much more bearable as a result of Uncle’s presence; he helped Shin heal physically while also offering him caring words. Indeed, this was Shin’s first experience of ongoing kindness, and he was both grateful and puzzled by it: given his strained relationship with his family, as well as the abuse and betrayal that was part-and-parcel of daily life in the camp, this compassion helped bring about a gradual shift in his expectations.

Uncle revealed little about himself; he was careful and suspicious as was only natural in the camp. Still, he was also a congenial, worldly character who possessed a sage outlook. In one instance, he told Shin, “‘Kid, you have a lot of days to live’” (61), adding, “‘They say the sun shines even on mouse holes’” (61). Uncle was happy to share his cell with another person rather than wallow in loneliness. In addition, he was an entertaining speaker, and Shin especially relished his descriptions of food.

The prison guards wanted to know what Shin and Uncle talked about, and Shin told the truth to both sides. Uncle was not surprise to learn that the guards had asked Shin to act as an informer, and continued to withhold biographical details. Shin’s guess was that he had once been an important, well-educated man, but, ultimately, his background remains cryptic.

Uncle expressed an optimistic outlook, telling Shin that they would both be released one day and that they should stay strong until then. However, when he asked Shin, “‘Do you believe I’ll also be able to make it out?’” (63), Shin was doubtful, though he said nothing. It is testament to Uncle’s compassion that, when he was released, Shin did not want to leave the cell. This was the first time that he had loved and trusted another person, and Shin has since remembered him with more affection than he ever felt for his parents. Uncle assured him that they would meet again on the outside, but Shin has not seen him since that day.     

While working in the garment factory, Shin was assigned the task of overseeing an important new prisoner, Park Yong Chul, who had lived abroad and knew people in the North Korean government. Shin was instructed not only to teach him how to fix sewing machines but also to report back to the superintendent with details about his background. Shin’s efforts at communication were futile for the first four weeks. However, Park surprised Shin one day by striking up a conversation. After asking Shin about his background, Park revealed that he himself was from Pyongyang.

Park was a dignified, orderly man in his mid-40s whose background was vastly different from Shin’s—the fact that Shin had not even heard of Pyongyang was startling to him. Still, once the ice had been broken, Park offered Shin insight into the world outside the camp and his stories had a dramatic impact on Shin. He talked about North and South Korea; the concept of money, modern technology, and all manner of topics, but it was his stories of food that really piqued Shin’s interest. It was thanks to Park’s descriptions of world cuisine that Shin first thought of escape and made an active decision not to snitch on his new friend.

Whereas Uncle had been guarded about his life, Park trusted Shin and was much more open. He had once been the head of tae kwon do training in Pyongyang but lost his position after quarrelling with an apparatchik (an agent of the government apparatus) who informed on him to his superiors. He and his wife crossed into China to stay with his uncle for 18 months but returned to North Korea in time for the August election for the Supreme People’s Assembly. Elections were “empty rituals” (101) in North Korea, but Park was worried that his absence would be noted and that he would be declared a traitor.

When he attempted to return to North Korea, however, Park was stopped at the border and accused of being a spy for South Korea. This led to his imprisonment, and he was angry at himself for what he later realized was foolish behavior. Despite his anger, however, he retained his dignified manner and even displayed a cheerful side, sometimes bursting into song—an impulsive gesture that shocked Shin. Shin initially remained aloof on such occasions but, with Park’s encouragement, he tentatively joined in with an apt song about travelling companions who endure hardship and pain.

Park played a crucial role in Shin’s life, in that he acted as a confidante and his descriptions of the outside word prompted Shin to start thinking about escape. As the author states, “Park’s spirit, his dignity and his incendiary information gave Shin something that was both enthralling and unbearable: a context, a way to dream about the future” (106). When Shin decided to act upon his thoughts of escape, he and Park put their trust in each other and forged a plan. Park’s knowledge of the world outside the camp contrasted with Shin’s naivety, and Park had contacts in China. Shin therefore believed that he would have someone more experienced to help and guide him.

As it turned out, Shin was the only one to escape successfully. This was purely a matter of luck, as Park reached the camp’s fence before him and died of electrocution. Shin acted instinctively and crawled over Park’s body, an act that haunted him in later years. Self-preservation was all that Shin cared about at that moment but, as with his mother’s execution, the circumstances of Park’s death became a source of guilt when he later resettled in the West.

Lowell and Linda Dye, a couple from Columbus, Ohio, read the author’s first story about Shin in 2008. They went on to pay for Shin’s travel to the United States and became worried and disappointed upon hearing that he had quit LiNK. As they told him, it would be wiser for him to stay with an established organization than to start a new NGO.

After he moved to Seattle with Harim, Shin accepted an invitation to stay with the Dyes for a couple of weeks. He is close to the couple, calling them his “parents,” and takes their concerns seriously. Lowell is a management consultant and believes that Shin needs an agent, a money manager, and a lawyer. He and his wife were keen to help Shin establish a plan for his future during this visit, but they were unable to discuss the matter with him to a significant extent. This was because he was still keeping Seattle hours, which entailed sleeping until late morning and staying up late at night to talk to Harim on Skype.

With Shin making it clear that he was in love with, and devoted to, Harim, Lowell had to accept that Shin had his own ideas about how to live his life. Still, when Shin and Harim broke up, the Dyes welcomed him back into their home. They have therefore provided Shin with both financial and emotional support, as well as a place to live during his time in America.

Kyung was a pastor’s wife who was born in Seoul and became something of a mother to Shin when he arrived in America. She tried to give him a hug when he first visited her house, but at that point he was uncomfortable with being touched. Still, he enjoyed coming to dinner, and he made friends with Kyung’s twenty-something children. The family as a whole was interested in human rights and had befriended a number of North Korean immigrants. To that end, Kyung and her husband, Jung Kun Kim, head up a small Christian ministry.

Though she did not speak much English, Kyung started calling Shin her “son,” and he, in turn, started to accept her hugs. The family was kind and welcoming, and Kyung and Shin would talk for hours. However, the idyllic image of family life he found in Kyung’s house made Shin feel envious and guilty about how he had acted in the camp. Kyung’s view is that Shin’s guilt will continue but, as she has told him, he has “a powerful conscience and a good heart” (180). She also believes that, in contrast to other North Koreans, he benefits from not having been brainwashed with propaganda about the Kim dynasty.

In his assessment of himself, Shin spoke of how difficult he finds it to be a good person and of his attempts to mimic other people’s behavior. Still, he developed greater confidence through his interactions with this family, and Kyung’s children attested to his empathy and ability to laugh. He even became fond of hugs. Kyung and her family therefore helped draw Shin out and show him the positive associations of family and friendship. Thanks to them, he became more talkative and no longer shied away from physical contact.

As executive director of LiNK, Hannah had become Shin’s “boss and de facto guardian” (47) following his arrival in the United States. She was a 29-year-old Korean American who encouraged Shin to become self-sufficient and adapt to the day-to-day practices of life in America. To this end, she helped him manage his money, visas, travel arrangements, and medical care.

Hannah jokingly referred to herself as Shin’s mom, yet she found that her ‘son’ was prone to being difficult: he was reluctant to commit to anything, had a tendency to complain, and sometimes had bouts of anger. LiNK encourages North Koreans to formulate a life plan once they are established in the United States, but Shin refused and Hannah allowed him to wander round Los Angeles. She recounts that his story was so powerful that she and the other members of LiNK made an exception for him. 

When Shin quit LiNK, Hannah was “heartbroken” (186). On the one hand, Shin had continued to expect special treatment and avoided taking responsibility; moreover, he had made little effort to learn English. On the other hand, Hannah blamed herself for not being firmer and demanding that Shin take responsibility for himself. As she revealed to the author, she regretted this soft approach and worried that Shin was ill-equipped for the future.