Upon receipt of her ID card, she went sightseeing in downtown Seoul, taking the subway to Gwanghwamun and Cheongdam-dong. On the way back, she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Everything seemed strange. Thinking about what I should do from then on, the tears came and carried on and on."

Although she knew people would stare and felt embarrassed, she simply could not stop or hold back her sorrow. Young-wha thus began her difficult adjustment to this new place, Korea, after the hardships of North Korea and China.

She has since started talking from her memories of Thailand. She was sent directly from the Korean embassy to a Thai Immigration Bureau Foreigners’ Camp. The camp was designed to accommodate 350 female defectors, but over 430 were staying there, however. Although it is hard to believe, refugees were required to pay just to be able to sleep in the camp.

"Refugees departing for Seoul sell their spots," says Young-wha. "The most expensive cost up to 15,000 baht (about US$480)."

Amid the trauma of the cramped living conditions, the camaraderie earned by people who had endured near-death escapes together began to fade, and they became distant from one another. People divided into two economic groups: those with money and those without. Some were lucky enough to secure spots to lay down by the window, but others had to suffer being next to the toilets for three full months. "It was unbearable. I sometimes thought of killing myself," says Young-wha. "Somehow I felt more bitter than I did when I escaped from China. The camp there was a small republic where the detainees formed social hierarchies."

Young-wha recently read the article on Sung-ryong in the Chosun Ilbo, which left her in tears, as she knows about the life in the camp. "Kids have tougher time in the camp. Measures should be taken before something bad happens to him."

Young-wha still feels happy in the knowledge that her mother and little brother will soon join her. "I know I am lucky. Having my entire family come over to Seoul is a dream come true. We don't have to be on the run anymore." She often talks to her mother on the phone. "We have been cheering each other up. Whatever comes our way, be it a job in a restaurant or a clothing store, we'll do our best to make our living."

Young-wha thought back to her memories of life in North Korea, where they were financially well-off, thanks to her grandfather, who saved good money from working with trading companies. Young-wha had a talent for music, singing well and taking guitar lessons from a professional tutor. She wished to become a musician, listening to smuggled Japanese CDs for inspiration. She also formally studied music at school. "I can still play 'Endless Rain' by prominent Japanese rock band 'X-Japan' perfectly," she told us with pride. With the grandfather's demise, her family became worse off then scattered apart after a persistent famine. Young-wha and her mother left for China to earn more money. Her parents eventually divorced. She still finds it too hard to talk about families remaining in North Korea.

She asked about Korean universities, so we took her near to Yonsei University by bus. It was Spring on campus. Young-wha spoke up about her long-cherished dream. "I want to complete my college degree," she admitted. "Can I learn more about acting and singing if I get into an art school?"

She also talked about the documentary, "On The Border," where a female defector like herself was the main character. "It could be made more realistic. When we crossed the border, conditions were far more horrible. I want to show the feelings of North Korean defectors."

Young-wha also talks about world famous Korean actresses, Kim Yun-jin of "Lost" and Chun Do-yeon of "Secret Sunshine." "It is amazing to watch people act heartbroken feelings. I dare not dream of being such a big star. I just want to be on the stage. Isn't everything possible in Korea, if we try our best?"

Knowing that many North Korean defectors do not lead easy lives in South Korea, it was difficult to answer her question quickly and simply. However, what can't she do, having endured a death-defying journey?

"I can do anything!" declares Young-wha defiantly. "I shall not forget what I felt while crossing mountains and rivers, and living in squalor in the camp. I am heavily indebted to so many people who helped me." So said Young-wha, the brave former refugee.