My great-Grandmother Ekaterina was born in 1901 in the Russian Far East.

Great Grand-mom Ekaterina, her brothers with their Russian wives and children.

At that time, nearly all Koryo Saram lived there until Stalin’s repressions when people were forcibly moved to Middle Asia.

My great-Grandmother’s family was wealthy, but in 1937, Stalin ordered that all Koryo Saram must leave everything they own. They were forced onto trains to a ‘new life.’

Many died on these trains. Families could not bury the bodies and had to throw them out of the train. My grandmother Valentina was a six year old who ended up in the middle of nowhere in Uzbekistan.

Koryo Saram had nothing to eat, no way to live. They were forced to leave their books, their family histories, and genealogy records behind. They arrived at Stalin’s final destination and dug holes in the ground to survive the winter.

My Grandmother Valentina cleaned schools and offices to earn money for her siblings to go to school. She passed away in 2021 at 90 years old, wise and thirsty for knowledge until the end. 

In WWII, Stalin distrusted the Koryo Saram and believed they would join Japan because we were Asian (he clearly did not care that Japan had annexed Korea.)

My grandparents decided to move to North Caucasus and start again there. Year by year, the Koryo Saram community grew - this became my parent’s generation. They planted fields of rice, vegetables, and watermelons. Nearly that whole generation worked the fields and never got an education. The ordinary salary of an engineer was 300 rubles a month while a family who planted crops could earn 15,000 to 20,000 rubles in six months.

We were a family with three children. Father was a planter, mother imported goods from Turkey. We lived in a big house, owned a car, ate whatever we wanted. Normal Russian families could not afford a life like that. There is a stereotype that Koreans in Russia are all wealthy - but that money was not easy to earn in the fields. 

Grandmother Valentina and my father - 1955

Grandmother Valentina and her sis Anna - 2017

When my mother discovered that my father had a lover, she took us and left him. With her money, she bought a small house that had nothing inside. That was the moment I resolved to get the highest education I could and make the best life possible for my mother. 

I have since forgiven my father. One day, I went to him after school and hugged him, crying. Though this broke my heart, it was also one of the happiest moments in my life. 

My older brother moved to the Far East and my second brother to the US, but now we are all in Korea. My parents still live in our hometown, but maybe they will join us, one day. 

From the day I was born, my family has always told me that I am Korean, and that it is important to know and respect my culture. I was to speak, read and write Hangul - this was obligatory, even if we are Russian citizens. I cook Korean food and honor the Korean traditions. 

I feel that I am Korean. When I travel and people ask my nationality, I say that I am Korean but was born in Russia. We always must divide ethnicity and citizenship. 

Me at 8 months old

My lovely mother in St. Petersburg

Koryo Saram. The first time I heard that term was when I was a student. 

My Korean Language teacher was South Korean and told me that people in Korea called us ‘Koryo Saram.’ My family and my friends had never heard that before, because we were born and raised in Russia as Koreans. Our Soviet Union passports and birth certificates say we are ‘Korean’ in the nationality column. 

I discovered that this was a common name used for ethnically Korean people who live in post-Soviet Union countries. I know there are names for Korean Americans, 재미 교포, and Japanese Koreans, 재일 교포, and I don’t know about them, but we have always honored the same traditions and cultures of our ancestors. 

My grandmother has taught me Korean since I was two years old but perhaps it is an archaic version because she has never said the word Koryo Saram.

Just by having the name ‘Koryo Saram’ shows that we are not the same as the locals. 

I lived in South Korea for four years, then came back again once the war started between Russia and Ukraine. Some of the locals here don’t consider us Korean at all. They think we are traitors and don’t like that we are here to make a living. During my studies in China, I had a Korean classmate who bullied me. I didn’t understand at that time. 

I recognize that there are negative attitudes towards us but sometimes I think it is because of the mistakes we make. We have made Russian-speaking ghettoes in every Korean city, where people behave badly, make noise, drink, fight and cheat. If one can speak Korean better than the others, he or she acts as an intermediary and can swindle either side. Many of these people work as mobile operators, sell cars, water coolers, health insurance or work in real estate. Koreans who encounter such people might think that all of us are like that. 

Additionally, we have forgotten the native language - and I know it is because of Stalinism; all people were forced to abandon their old cultures and languages - but it is not an excuse

My mother and me

By photographer Victor Ahn -
an ad for the 고려신문 with an image of Samarquand, Uzbekistan in the background.

Most of us came to Korea in hopes for a better life. 

Some are well-educated professionals who end up struggling in factories or construction. But many are from difficult situations back home. They leave behind small villages or dysfunctional families. They only desire to earn money, pay debts and then go back home. To them, learning the language and socializing with locals means losing time. 

These people are not bad; the regime in post-Soviet Union countries made people impudent and desperate. You must put on a strong face and push people around to survive. 

But there are so many locals who want to help us. In their eyes, we are simply overseas Koreans who are returning to our roots. They welcome us when we try to be part of the community, work hard, pay taxes and raise our families here. 

All Koreans are not the same. Some have Koryo Saram friends, some have married our people and understand us. 

I love talking with taxi drivers because they know everything. They gossip and share the news with you. Many of them are older and see Koryo Saram as Koreans, just with different citizenship.

Everything is so different in Korea. In Russia, we do not have 전세, villas, officetels… We must adjust to the morning office exercises, the levels of politeness and cultural things everybody just expects you to know. It’s tough when you don’t know the language. 

But these issues are small. The main problem is our difference in mentality. 

In Russia, we don’t have social hierarchy. 

I was born in a Korean family where our elders are respected. We stand up to greet them. Grandfather eats first. And of course, you must have 눈치 (noonchi). Yes, we are respectful, but this is not the same as the Confucianist idea of hierarchy at all. In Korea, the attitudes towards new employees, the younger generation, foreigners and women are so different. 

We hear so much contempt, disrespect and discrimination. 

Our kids are bullied. They are cut off from their normal life at home and must learn a different language. They’re expected to think like the local children. Thankfully, Children Centers all over Korea are trying to help our compatriots adjust to life here. 

But everyone faces difficulties whenever they go to another country. 

What you can control is your attitude, your self-confidence, and your hopes for the future.

Mom's parents with their elder son’s family - 1979

My cousins

I think our origin story has made us special. We’ve absorbed the cultures, languages and behaviors of other nations. In Korea, this gives us an edge. 

In some ways, we are more open-minded than the locals. We’ve gone through immense hardships in our short history - hunger, bitter cold, repression under Stalin. We faced injustice in our countries, we never had our own land or autonomy. 

While we carry the culture codes of other countries, we have preserved our Korean authenticity. We speak the old-style Korean language. We have kept the traditions. Truly, this makes us unique. But I say, though our people are different, we are equal. 

We have already started to re-integrate. After a generation or so, it might be difficult to differentiate Koryo Saram from other locals. Our children go to school, study at universities, wear the same styles, learn makeup and behaviors from other local children. 

Sometimes, we can’t even recognize if a child is Koryo Saram until they start speaking Russian. Last week, I visited a relative and their five year old spoke to us in Korean. She could understand Russian but could only speak a few words, with an accent. Perhaps our grandchildren will be Korean in mind and appearance. 

I hope both Koreans and Koryo Saram can learn more about each other, so that one day we can be united and develop our home country together.