This is what it's like to go undercover in North Korea | Suki Kim

譯者: Zhiting Chen 審譯者: Geoff Chen

In 2011, during the final six months of Kim Jong-Il's life,

在 2011 年，金正日人生最後的六個月，

I lived undercover in North Korea.

我秘密生活在北韓。

I was born and raised in South Korea, their enemy.

我在它的敵對國家南韓出生長大，

I live in America, their other enemy.

在它另一個敵對國家美國居住。

Since 2002, I had visited North Korea a few times.

從 2002 年起，我數次訪問北韓。

And I had come to realize that to write about it with any meaning,

我意識到，如果想要寫關於北韓的 有意義的書，

or to understand the place beyond the regime's propaganda,

或是超越政權的政治宣傳，

the only option was total immersion.

唯一的方式就是將自己完全融入。

So I posed as a teacher and a missionary

因此我以教師和傳教士的身份

at an all-male university in Pyongyang.

在平壤一所男子大學工作。

The Pyongyang University of Science and Technology

平壤科學技術大學

was founded by Evangelical Christians who cooperate with the regime

由福音派基督徒建立， 他與當權者合作

to educate the sons of the North Korean elite,

辦學教育北韓精英家庭的孩子，

without proselytizing, which is a capital crime there.

他們沒有誘勸他們改宗， 這被認為是嚴重的罪行。

The students were 270 young men, expected to be the future leaders

學生們是 270 位年輕男子， 他們被期待成為未來領袖，

of the most isolated and brutal dictatorship in existence.

領導這個世界上 最孤立且殘忍的獨裁政權。

When I arrived, they became my students.

我在那裡，他們成為我的學生。

2011 was a special year,

2011 是個特殊的年份，

marking the 100th anniversary of the birth of North Korea's original Great Leader,

是朝鮮偉大領袖金日成的

Kim Il-Sung.

百年生日。

To celebrate the occasion, the regime shut down all universities,

為了慶祝這個盛會， 政府關閉了所有的大學，

and sent students off to the fields

把學生們遣散到各個工地

to build the DPRK's much-heralded ideal

去樹立北韓這個 世界上最強盛繁榮的國家

as the world's most powerful and prosperous nation.

最偉大的救世主的形象。

My students were the only ones spared from that fate.

我的學生們是唯一一群 免於辛苦勞動的人。

North Korea is a gulag posing as a nation.

北韓是以國家形態呈現的 共產主義古拉格集中營。

Everything there is about the Great Leader.

在那裡的一切都有關於偉大領袖。

Every book, every newspaper article, every song, every TV program --

每本書、每篇報刊文章、 每首歌、每個電視節目——

there is just one subject.

只有一個主題。

The flowers are named after him,

花朵以他的名字命名，

the mountains are carved with his slogans.

山上篆刻著他的口號。

Every citizen wears the badge of the Great Leader at all times.

每個居民無時無刻不佩戴領袖像章，

Even their calendar system begins with the birth of Kim Il-Sung.

甚至他們的日曆系統 都要以金日成的生日作為開始。

The school was a heavily guarded prison, posing as a campus.

學校是重兵嚴守的監獄 以校園的形式出現。

Teachers could only leave on group outings accompanied by an official minder.

老師們只有在集體外出活動時才能離開， 並且有一位官方人員隨行。

Even then, our trips were limited to sanctioned national monuments

即使這樣，我們的遊覽 也僅限於遊覽國家紀念碑，

celebrating the Great Leader.

慶祝偉大領袖。

The students were not allowed to leave the campus,

學生們不允許離開校園，

or communicate with their parents.

或是與他們的父母接觸。

Their days were meticulously mapped out, and any free time they had

他們的日程都被精心安排， 那些僅有的自由活動時間

was devoted to honoring their Great Leader.

也都用在敬仰偉大領袖上。

Lesson plans had to meet the approval of North Korean staff,

課程安排必須經過北韓官員的批准，

every class was recorded and reported on, every room was bugged,

每堂課都有被記錄、再彙報， 每個房間都裝了竊聽器，

and every conversation, overheard.

每個對話，都會被聽見。

Every blank space was covered with the portraits of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il,

所有空置的空間都會被 金日成和金正日的畫像佔據，

like everywhere else in North Korea.

就像北韓的其他地方。

We were never allowed to discuss the outside world.

我們不允許討論外部的世界。

As students of science and technology, many of them were computer majors

科學技術大學的學生， 大部份主修電腦科學，

but they did not know the existence of the Internet.

但他們不知道網際網路的存在。

They had never heard of Mark Zuckerberg or Steve Jobs.

他們從未聽過馬克．祖克柏 (臉書創辦人) 或是史蒂夫．喬布斯 (蘋果創辦人)。

Facebook, Twitter -- none of those things would have meant a thing.

臉書、推特——這些對他們來說 什麼意義也沒有。

And I could not tell them.

我也不能告訴他們。

I went there looking for truth.

我去那裡尋找真相，

But where do you even start when an entire nation's ideology,

然而，你甚至不知道要如何開始， 因為整個國家的意識形態，

my students' day-to-day realities,

我學生們每日生活，

and even my own position at the universities,

甚至我在大學的職位

were all built on lies?

都建築在謊言之上？

I started with a game.

我從一個遊戲開始。

We played "Truth and Lie."

我們玩「真實與謊言」。

A volunteer would write a sentence on the chalkboard,

一個學生在黑板上寫了一句話

and the other students had to guess

另一個學生要去猜

whether it was a truth or a lie.

這是實話還是謊言。

Once a student wrote, "I visited China last year on vacation,"

當一個學生寫道： 「去年假期我訪問了中國。」

and everyone shouted, "Lie!"

所有人大聲說：「謊言！」

They all knew this wasn't possible.

他們知道這是不可能的。

Virtually no North Korean is allowed to leave the country.

事實上，沒有人被允許離開這個國家。

Even traveling within their own country requires a travel pass.

即使在國家內部旅行 也需要一個旅行證件。

I had hoped that this game would reveal some truth about my students,

我希望這個遊戲能夠 揭露關於學生們的一些真相，

because they lie so often and so easily,

因為他們說謊太頻繁，太容易，

whether about the mythical accomplishments of their Great Leader,

關於領袖神話讚美的言論，

or the strange claim that they cloned a rabbit as fifth graders.

或是奇怪地宣稱他們在小學五年級 就已經無性繁殖了兔子。

The difference between truth and lies seemed at times hazy to them.

對他們來說，真實與謊言 界限太模糊。

It took me a while to understand the different types of lies;

我花了些時間來了解 不同類型的謊言；

they lie to shield their system from the world,

他們說謊為了將他們的國家系統 獨立於整個世界，

or they were taught lies, and were just regurgitating them.

或許他們受到的教育是假話， 他們只是在重複這些假話。

Or, at moments, they lied out of habit.

或者，有些時候， 他們習慣性地說謊。

But if all they have ever known were lies,

但是，如果他們接受的資訊都是假的，

how could we expect them to be otherwise?

我們怎麼能夠期待他們說些別的呢？

Next, I tried to teach them essay writing.

隨後，我試著教他們寫作，

But that turned out to be nearly impossible.

但這完全是不可能的。

Essays are about coming up with one's own thesis,

寫作意味著寫他們自己的文章，

and making an evidence-based argument to prove it.

用以事實為基礎的論據去證明它。

These students, however, were simply told what to think,

然而這些學生 簡單地被告知要去想些什麼，

and they obeyed.

他們尊崇。

In their world, critical thinking was not allowed.

在他們的世界，批判性思維 是不被允許的。

I also gave them the weekly assignment of writing a personal letter,

我佈置了一項作業，寫一封信

to anybody.

給任何人。

It took a long time, but eventually some of them began to write

過了一些時間，最後他們中的一些人 開始寫

to their mothers, their friends, their girlfriends.

給他們的母親、朋友、女友。

Although those were just homework,

儘管這些只是家庭作業，

and would never reach their intended recipients,

這些信永遠不會送到對方手中，

my students slowly began to reveal their true feelings in them.

學生們慢慢地開始展現 他們的真實情感。

They wrote that they were fed up with the sameness of everything.

他們寫道，他們受夠了 千篇一律。

They were worried about their future.

他們擔心自己的未來。

In those letters, they rarely ever mentioned their Great Leader.

在那些信中，他們很少提到 偉大領袖。

I was spending all of my time with these young men.

我把所有時間都用在 和這些年輕男生相處。

We all ate meals together, played basketball together.

我們一起吃飯， 一起打籃球。

I often called them gentlemen, which made them giggle.

我常常稱呼他們紳士， 這讓他們感到有趣。

They blushed at the mention of girls.

他們提到女孩子的時候會害羞，

And I came to adore them.

我開始喜歡他們。

And watching them open up even in the tiniest of ways,

看著他們敞開心扉 即使只是一點點，

was deeply moving.

都非常感動。

But something also felt wrong.

但有些事情感覺不對，

During those months of living in their world,

在那幾個月裡 生活在他們的世界，

I often wondered if the truth would, in fact, improve their lives.

我時常想，真相會不會 提升他們的生活。

I wanted so much to tell them the truth,

我太想告訴他們真相了，

of their country and of the outside world,

關於他們的國家和外部的世界，

where Arab youth were turning their rotten regime inside out,

阿拉伯年輕人把腐朽的政權 鬧得翻天覆地，

using the power of social media,

靠社群媒體的力量，

where everyone except them was connected through the world wide web,

除了他們，世界上每個人 都能夠通過網路連接彼此，

which wasn't worldwide after all.

終究不是全世界都能這樣。

But for them, the truth was dangerous.

但對於他們來說， 真相是危險的。

By encouraging them to run after it, I was putting them at risk --

如果鼓勵他們追求真理， 就是把他們置於危險之中——

of persecution,

或是遭到迫害，

of heartbreak.

或是心碎。

When you're not allowed to express anything in the open,

當你不被允許 在公開場合表達想法，

you become good at reading what is unspoken.

你會開始擅長讀出 那些沒有說出口的事。

In one of their personal letters to me, a student wrote that he understood

在他們給我的個人信件， 一个學生寫到，他理解

why I always called them gentlemen.

為什麼我一直稱呼他們紳士，

It was because I was wishing them to be gentle in life, he said.

因為我祝願他們人生平和安逸。

On my last day in December of 2011,

我在北韓的最後一天 2011 年的 12 月，

the day Kim Jong-Il's death was announced,

那天政府公佈了金正日的死訊，

their world shattered.

他們的世界粉碎了。

I had to leave without a proper goodbye.

我必須要離開， 甚至無法說再見。

But I think they knew how sad I was for them.

但我想，他們知道我有多麼悲傷。

Once, toward the end of my stay, a student said to me,

在我快要離開的時候， 一個學生告訴我，

"Professor, we never think of you as being different from us.

「教授，我們從未覺得 你和我們是不同的。

Our circumstances are different, but you're the same as us.

我們的處境不同， 但你和我們是一樣的。

We want you to know that we truly think of you as being the same."

我想讓你知道，我們真的認為 你和我們是一樣的。」

Today, if I could respond to my students with a letter of my own,

今時今日，如果我能親自回覆 一封信給我的學生們，

which is of course impossible,

當然這是不可能的，

I would tell them this:

我會告訴他們：

"My dear gentlemen,

「我親愛的紳士們，

It's been a bit over three years since I last saw you.

距我離開你們已經三年多了，

And now, you must be 22 -- maybe even as old as 23.

現在，你們應該已經 22 歲了—— 也許 23 歲了。

At our final class, I asked you if there was anything you wanted.

在最後一堂課上，我問你們 你們想要什麼。

The only wish you expressed, the only thing you ever asked of me

你們表達的唯一願望， 你們提出的唯一要求

in all those months we spent together,

在我們共同度過的那些時光，

was for me to speak to you in Korean.

是我能用韓語和你們對話。

Just once.

只有一次也好。

I was there to teach you English;

我是去那裡教你們英語的；

you knew it wasn't allowed.

你們知道這是不被允許的，

But I understood then, you wanted to share that bond of our mother tongue.

但我理解，你們想要與我分享 我們共同的母語。

I called you my gentlemen,

我稱呼你們為紳士，

but I don't know if being gentle in Kim Jong-Un's merciless North Korea

但我不知道在金正恩殘酷統治下的北韓 平和溫順是不是

is a good thing.

一件好事。

I don't want you to lead a revolution --

我不希望你們引領一場革命——

let some other young person do it.

讓其他的年輕人去做吧。

The rest of the world might casually encourage or even expect

即使全世界都鼓勵 甚至期待

some sort of North Korean Spring,

某種「北韓之春」的革命運動，

but I don't want you to do anything risky,

但我不希望你們冒險，

because I know in your world, someone is always watching.

因為我知道在你們的世界， 總有人在監視。

I don't want to imagine what might happen to you.

我不想想像你們會遭遇什麼。

If my attempts to reach you have inspired something new in you,

如果我對你們講授的知識 激發了你們心中新的想法，

I would rather you forget me.

我寧願你們忘記我。

Become soldiers of your Great Leader, and live long, safe lives.

成為你們偉大領袖的戰士， 過著平穩安逸的人生。

You once asked me if I thought your city of Pyongyang was beautiful,

你們曾經問我 我認為你們的首都平壤漂亮嗎，

and I could not answer truthfully then.

我無法回答你們真相。

But I know why you asked.

但我知道為什麼你們這樣問，

I know that it was important for you to hear that I, your teacher,

我知道這對你們來說很重要， 聽到你們的老師我

the one who has seen the world that you are forbidden from,

這個看過你們 被禁止踏足外面世界的人，

declare your city as the most beautiful.

告訴你們平壤是最漂亮的。

I know hearing that would make your lives there a bit more bearable,

我知道聽到這樣的評價 會讓你們的人生更好受一些，

but no, I don't find your capital beautiful.

但是不，我不認為你們的首都漂亮。

Not because it's monotone and concrete,

不是因為它單調的混凝土建築，

but because of what it symbolizes:

而是因為它的象徵意義：

a monster that feeds off the rest of the country,

一個吞噬其國民的怪物，

where citizens are soldiers and slaves.

把人民當做士兵和奴隸。

All I see there is darkness.

我看到的是黑暗。

But it's your home, so I cannot hate it.

但這是你們的家， 因此我不能憎恨它。

And I hope instead that you, my lovely young gentlemen,

我希望你們， 我可愛年輕的紳士們，

will one day help make it beautiful.

會讓它變得更加美麗。

Thank you.

謝謝。

(Applause)

（鼓掌）