2. Flowery Hill (꽃동지)
Yonpung-dong (연풍동), located in the Uiyon District (위연지구) of Hyesan, is made up of 50 Bans, which are groups of households. Each Ban typically consists of 50-60 households, with each household having between four to five members. It’s worth noting that during the 1960s-1970s, when I was growing up, the average family size was larger, with most families having seven to eight members.
Yonpung-dong is situated in the northernmost part of Hyesan, with Bans numbers 46-49 located at the tip of the north. The community comprises over 130 households, including laborers, farmers, office workers, soldiers, and university students. Notably, these villages are known to be hotspots for smuggling activities.
During Kim Il’s rule, North Korea implemented various economic plans, spanning three years, five years, or even eight years, achieving significant or partial success. As a result, North Korea outperformed its Southern counterpart in the 1960s and 1970s in terms of higher agricultural, steel, cement, textile production, and construction.
The South Korean singer Sung Jin’s song, “Barley Hump” (보릿고개, Period of Spring Poverty), was created 25 years ago in South Korea during a time when its people were grappling with food shortages. The song remains popular and beloved by many. It is evident that South Koreans must have endured a more severe hardship during that period than their North Korean counterparts.
After the death of Kim Il Sung on July 8, 1994, the North Korean economy took a nosedive. In the Flowery Hill neighborhood of Yonpung-dong, out of approximately 130 households, nearly all households, with the exception of the immobile elderly ones, were engaged in smuggling activities.
In my opinion, the illegal trading activities that we, the villagers of Flowery Hill, conducted, while admittedly illegal, played a significant role in supporting not only our own community but also the entire North Korea. My village deserves recognition for offering a glimmer of hope to the starving people during a nationwide famine, even as we endured hardships such as crossing the Aprok River during winter while getting our thighs cut by sharp pieces of ice.
During my entry investigation, South Korean officials informed me that the majority of North Koreans who had come to South Korea were from Yonpung-dong, Hyesan-si. Within Yonpung-dong, Flowery Hill residents make up the largest group. It is safe to say that almost every other household has resettled in South Korea. Some households have one, two, or three family members in South Korea, while others have relocated as entire families.
3. Azalea (진달래)
The variety of Azalea found in North Korea is rare in South Korea. While I often come across something similar during my workout trail in the park or on a hill, I’ve come to realize that they are a different type called “choljuk” (철쭉). Many people find it challenging to distinguish between the two – azaleas and choljuk. Both have pale pink petals of similar size, so my usual method for distinguishing them is by comparing their stems and leaves. Nevertheless, I still feel a sense of excitement and amusement each time I encounter these choljuk plants in South Korea, reminiscent of the thrill I experienced in North Korea when I first laid eyes on the blooming heralds of spring.
I’m not certain when my village received the name Flowery Hill, but as far back as I can remember, it has been known by that name. I assume it was given this name long before the establishment of North Korea. I eagerly anticipate the day when I can return to my hometown. When that day comes, I plan to gather an armful of South Korean choljuk, which resembles North Korea’s Azaleas, and offer them to my long-missed friends and family in Flowery Hill. May this cherished name be carried forward for generations to come, even in the distant future!
After Kim Il Sung’s death, the mountains saw extensive deforestation, but until the 1980s, bears, boars, and roe deer were relatively common in the area. There were even individuals during my childhood who claimed to have spotted tigers.
It is said that the tigers living in Paeku’s dense forest vanished without a trace as a consequence of Kim Il Sung’s memorial project, which spanned across Paektu mountain. During the construction of memorial sites honoring Kim Il Sung’s anti-Japanese accomplishments, tens to hundreds of tons of granite stones were used to create structures and sculptures deep within the forest. The noise and explosions from this construction might have easily driven the territorial tigers into the forests of China’s Erdaobaihe region or towards Vladivostok in Russia.
My village, Flowery Hill, was a picture-perfect place when these wild animals still roamed its surroundings. Despite the high altitude and cold climate, fruit trees were a rare sight, but a variety of harmonious flowers would bloom in succession from spring to summer.
Dandelions, forsythia, pasque flowers, and even the white blossoms of clover, which served as the main food for rabbits, created a spectacular display of nature. Among them all, the Azalea was the most prolific, turning the village into a sea of flowers. Immersed in the gentle pink fragrance of azalea, with my eyes closed, I could temporarily escape the worries of life. My heart would race with hope for a brighter tomorrow. When I was a child, my friends and I used to hike up the hill in small groups, picking azalea petals. On some occasions, we would collect as much as 1 or 2 kilograms of them.
We could have used those petals to make wine, but that’s not what we did. Some kids simply chewed and ate them, while others, from relatively well-off households, would sprinkle sugar on top and let them ripen for a day or two. By then, the petals would transform into a thick, sweet and tangy treat that tasted somewhat like wine. As a child, I cherished this experience.
Decades later, I had the opportunity to visit my Korean-Chinese friend, Gijong Kim, in Jilin, China, during a business (smuggling) trip. He suggested a mountain hike, and I eagerly joined him. I was struck by the abundance of food in this prosperous country. The lunch our Chinese friend prepared turned out to be a lavish feast, featuring beef, pork, fish, nuts, beer, and Chinese wine, all stowed in his car. During our hike, we gathered azalea petals while climbing up and down the hills, amassing around 4-5 kilograms of them. He kindly offered to pay me 50 RMB for my efforts, but I insisted on refusing it, as receiving payment from a friend seemed unnecessary. Furthermore, he was collecting the petals for personal use, specifically for making wine.
Unable to pay me with cash, he eventually gifted me five cartons of cigarettes, my favorite, as I departed to the other side (with one carton costing 10 RMB). Over a decade has passed, and I have reconnected with several people I met and parted ways with during our smuggling days. We’ve reminisced about the old times and found solace in sharing our stories. My friend Kijong is not among them. Although it’s known that he came to South Korea, I remain unaware of his current whereabouts.
The beloved hill, once covered with flourishing azalea, has now become almost barren. The once towering and thick larches and nut pines, reaching heights of 20-30 meters, are no longer to be found, not even a single one.
Flowery Hill has lost all traces of its former beauty. Dandelions and plantain flowers (길장구), which used to line the paths and hills so beautifully, were once a source of delight but are now nowhere to be seen. They have become mere sources of sustenance, pulled out as soon as they sprout and grow even slightly. Blowing dandelion seeds now exists solely in distant childhood memories.