Translator: Sanghyuk Sohn Reviewer: Jia Kang
I worked at a university hospital.
Yes, that's me.
My job was mainly performing health checkups.
I also had to teach as a professor,
on top of my research duties.
It fully occupied my life until 2007.
Also, as a woman and a mother,
I also struggled to balance my career and family.
But, one day, I couldn't find the meaning of my work anymore.
I became totally confused about the purpose of my life.
So, in January 2007, I quit my job
and in April 2010,
started a new life as the director of "Empathy for a Better World Foundation."
What changed me?
There are two types of explanations when asked "What happened?"
They are either coincidental or causal.
When people ask me, "What happened?"
they are implying, "What went wrong?"
They are looking for an explanation.
But my answer is that it was "pure coincidence."
I was lucky. I became a doctor,
then a specialist in occupational and environmental medicine.
My 20's to 30's couldn't have been better in terms of my job, career, and dreams.
When I was a med student,
I volunteered at clinics in poor neighborhoods.
After becoming a specialist, I cared for workers' health.
The term used at that time was "foreign workers."
But now we use "migrant workers," right?
I then volunteered at clinics for migrant workers
for more than ten years.
What drove me was my quest for the meaning of life.
For me, it was to follow my dreams.
The job afforded me a good living, career, and a chance to fulfill my dreams.
But suddenly, the dream wasn't there anymore.
I could not just go after only money and my career.
So, I quit.
People say you can't live without a dream.
There are even songs that start with
"If you're not dreaming, you're not living."
When you are not sure about your dream,
people often react with "What's wrong..."
When children say they don't know what their dream is,
people give worried looks.
I, too, thought I was living without a dream then.
But I didn't think it was a big deal.
But the truth was the dream had always been there.
I couldn't explain or verbalize it.
But it was growing inside me.
So, even if you don't have a dream now or have no idea,
one day it will emerge in your consciousness
and you'll be able to express it.
It just takes time to develop inside you.
I've been there, so I do not push children.
If they are not sure, I can wait.
In February 2009, by pure luck,
I stumbled upon "Couchsurfing."
I learned about the website from a newspaper,
although I am not an avid newspaper reader.
My heart started pumping, so I immediately registered.
I started hosting backpackers at home.
I went so far as to play "Arirang" for them with the "danso."
Yes, I did.
Let me talk about my first Couchsurfing guest.
He had been on a year-long backpacking trip and had come to Busan.
Why Busan? Because he, at the age of two,
was adopted by a French couple and had to leave Busan.
So he came back to Busan with his French girlfriend.
He wanted to find his biological mother,
and ask whether he had been abandoned
or had just gotten lost.
He wanted to find his roots.
Unfortunately, he couldn't meet his biological mother.
Their Couchsurfing way of travel
could be another face of "fair travel."
Couchsurfing led me to dig deeper into fair travel and fair trade.
Are you familiar with fair travel?
A responsible way of traveling
that reduces carbon footprints and pays fairly to locals.
For me, it meant sleeping in places run by locals,
eating in restaurants run by locals,
experiencing marketplaces filled with locals,
and listening to their unique stories.
That was what fair travel meant to me.
We even coined a new term,
"empathy travel."
We use this term among ourselves.
Then, I had another coincidental encounter.
I met a group preparing to start a village community.
Why bother? Things are hard enough as it is.
But they wanted to start one.
At any rate, I became a member.
The group had doctors like me, including a psychiatrist and an image specialist,
professors, activists, pastors, middle and high school teachers,
policemen, housewives, and others.
We gathered once a month to study communities.
We all enjoy studying, right?
We read books and started to draw pictures.
A kitchen here, a laundromat there. Different sizes of houses.
We were so optimistic that
we began to search for the right land,
although we did not have the funds.
We even named the group. "The Path to the Village."
But there was nothing concrete.
I thought, "Living together is not easy, but it'd be fun to live in the country."
That was about it.
In the midst of all this, I embarked on a journey.
Camino De Santiago.
The route to a northern Spanish city, Santiago De Compostela.
It is 800 km long.
Usually, people take the French Way.
Why did I go there?
I wanted a change.
I was in a difficult situation, personally.
So I had no choice but to either
change the situation or change myself.
I had to face the choice.
And changing myself was my only option.
I went on a journey to transform myself.
I started my journey from a small town, Saint-Jean-Pied-De-Port.
The route leads to the Pyrenees.
I couldn't sleep well because of the excitement and jet lag.
Before 5 a.m., I was already awake.
I was the first to head out among all the pilgrims that day.
It takes 30 minutes to reach the end of the village.
I kept walking in high spirits, humming. The sun had yet to rise.
When I reached the end of the village,
the path ahead to the Pyrenees was in total darkness.
Immense fear struck me and my legs froze.
I sat under the last streetlight at the edge of the village.
I had some biscuits and wrote in my journal,
as I waited for someone to show up.
I have never waited for someone so desperately.
No one showed up.
I could have waited longer.
But I decided it was time to move on.
But my body was not agreeing with my brain.
Then, I remembered what I had learned from reflecting on my mind.
So, I took a deep breath and decided to just do it.
I took a big step,
and crossed the imaginary line that my mind had drawn.
I still cannot forget that moment.
It was only a single step, but it was as if I had stepped into an abyss.
But that one step gave me peace.
I kept walking.
And finally arrived.
But there was something missing.
Although I enjoyed walking alone,
there was no one to share the joy.
I discovered my craving for company.
The Santiago experience was meaningful in two ways.
It gave me a chance to overcome fears and just do it.
Since then, when I face something new, or fear creeps into my mind,
I recall that moment, those memories ingrained in me.
I tell myself, "Let's just do it."
And it works.
After the journey,
I became more active in the village group.
Do you remember the NGO activist in the group?
That activist was the head of the Center for North Korean Defectors.
I must have looked like a wanderer to him.
He suggested volunteering at the center for people in need.
It was a good suggestion.
So, I volunteered from time to time for about a year.
In early 2010, he officially asked me
to become a board member of the Empathy for a Better World Foundation.
I had finished my Camino De Santiago trip
and I was ready to make a commitment.
So, I went to Hanawon, the Settlement Support Center for North Korean Refugees.
When North Korean defectors reach Korea,
the National Intelligence Service
debriefs them for up to 2 months.
Then, Hanawon provides a 3-month program
for adjusting to life in Korea.
After graduating, they go their own ways.
We escort people coming to our region.
I left early in the morning
to meet the eight people who were coming to my city, Daegu.
As I was going through the papers,
a kid, seemingly 8 years old at the most,
approached me and asked a question.
"Are you from Gyeongju?"
"No, I am from Daegu.
Why are you alone?" I asked back.
He said his father had defected
and settled there 2 years ago.
Then I asked his age.
He said he was 11.
He looked 8 years old at the most,
but he was 11.
That was my first time seeing, with my own eyes,
a victim of the great famine in North Korea in the 1990s.
Later, I learned that
North Koreans used to be physically similar to us.
But people who grew up during and after the famine
trailed South Koreans in physical development by 2 to 3 years.
That was another moment of truth for me.
"I need to do this. This job is meant for me."
I don't believe helping North Korean migrants
is the most important job in the world.
But that coincidental encounter meant a lot to me.
So I committed myself.
People often are antagonized because they're constantly asked
how important their work is.
That encounter changed me.
I was able to offer new opportunities
to the Couchsurfers I hosted.
I discussed my work with guests
and some of them visited
or even volunteered there for many days.
It gave me the idea that
travelers and the North Korean migrants could be brought together.
I recalled my inspiration from the village community meeting.
Everyone seemed to dream about
a life in the countryside, away from the cities.
But I realized I was different.
My dream was to build an urban community,
a multi-use cultural space.
The village group had been preparing for 2 years.
It started to collect member dues.
Some declared that they belonged in cities.
One teacher became a carpenter.
They became aware of what they really wanted.
For me, I became determined to build
the urban multi-use cultural space.
I worked hard to sell my idea.
To start a project, we need money.
How about a fundraising party? It's common.
But I didn't like it.
I had seen those parties.
They seemed meaningless to me.
I wanted to be a trailblazer.
I believed that cultural imagination could transform the world.
So, I tried to use my imagination.
Luckily, a cultural event planner joined us,
and recruited TV writers and other professionals to donate their talent.
Many musical performers also joined.
And we signed a contract with Daegu International Opera Orchestra,
which gave us the right to use them almost indefinitely for free.
The event took place on January 25-26, 2013.
The audience was tremendously impressed.
A lady who defected from North Korea told her story,
then the staff members did, too.
Many joined to share their honest stories and enjoy the music and videos.
They were inspired.
Then a miracle happened.
Not only were we able to raise the money,
but also the talent donors all registered as regular donors.
We did not ask them to.
They even started their own network to help us.
The "supporters group."
So this is the cultural space.
It has five floors.
Three years have passed since I started to work at the NPO.
I visited Hanawon on April 7, 2010.
So, today marks the 3rd anniversary.
Yes, it means so much to me.
I always remind myself of these words.
[The road to hell is paved with good intentions]
We assume we are doing something good.
Particularly, people who work for a good cause
think recipients must take what they give
because they did it out of pure good will.
In some cases, we even go so far as to decide what they want.
However, these good intentions carry inherent danger that is revealed later
between people and across the entire organization.
In doing my job, two things occupied my attention.
One is North Korean settlers and my organization.
The other is the donors.
The dignified connection among the three,
and fundraising and culture that make it possible.
We are all migrants, right?
Whether from North Korea or elsewhere, we all move at least once.
What are the challenges for migrants?
Adjusting to the new environment,
and to the new society.
I learned a new concept two years ago.
Adjusting and settling.
Adjusting is based on assimilating into society.
But settling means to keep one's identity,
while living in harmony with the new society and environment.
Two different ideas.
People say that language is a container for ideas.
However, language decides how we think.
"Adjusting" and "settling" are very different.
For migrants, they need to settle.
What do they need from us to do so?
Our help, because they are socially vulnerable.
To help them better, keeping these ideas in mind is important.
Thank you.
(Applause)