In the first episode of "Through the eyes of a refugee," we delve into an intimate conversation with a North Korean woman who crossed not only the borders of her country, but also the borders of what North Korean society considers normal in marriage and family life. This volume exposes the raw reality of domestic violence, marriage traditions and the status of women in marriage in a country that is distant to many of us, but whose stories and struggles are universal.

In the heart of a closed country where silence and fear reign, stories of courage and resistance are born. In this episode, we delve into an intimate coming-of-age story and the struggle to maintain one's identity in a country where being different means danger. Our journey takes us to a war where young people become tools of the regime and shows how even in the darkest moments, glimmers of hope can be found.

There are North Koreans who still remember the golden good times of North Korea. They remember their youth, when everything didn't seem so bad. One of them is contemporary witness, a chauvinist. A man who has no respect for women. He is still not ashamed of all the terrible things he did in North Korea.

Every interview with a North Korean was unique, but this one was extraordinary. This story was the story of one great love. Yes, even in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea there are love marriages. Jong-sun was full of optimism, kind, and only looked for the best in everyone. If fate hadn't brought her a family tragedy one day, she would probably have lived "happily ever after" in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea.

This interview reveals the most brutal face of the North Korean regime. Torture, imprisonment and other atrocities. But when Nina had this conversation, she was very confused. As time went on, she became unsure whether the North Korean was really the victim or the perpetrator of these horrific acts.

When I first met Su Jŏn, I was not yet a mother and I had not really thought much about issues related to motherhood. After the birth of my son Malcolm, a different world opened up to me. A world that I could not understand without direct parental experience. And with this new world in mind, I changed my approach to conducting interviews. I became more interested in how women in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea cope with raising children, and whether it is even possible to raise children in a state that does not shy away from demanding that children address the party as "mother" and the leader as "father". The more interviews I had on this topic, the more I understood the incredible strength of a person who wants to survive, and especially to protect her children. Su Jŏn was a caring person. She identified with the fact that a woman should primarily take care of the family, she even loved this role. Thanks to her, she had order and peace in her life.

North Hamgyong. The province that was hit hardest by famine in the 1990s. The place where the Musudan-ri missile was launched and where one of the harshest labor camps is located – Camp No. 22 Hörjong. But it is also the province where the main railway lines of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea run. And it was with the railway that Kim Min-su connected his life. He didn't want to, but he had to. He knew since childhood that he would serve on the railway. He hated his job, but the railway ultimately saved his life and brought him to the free world. Conversations with Kim Min-su were always pleasant. He radiated a special calm, even though there was deep sadness in his eyes, longing for his family. During the conversation with him, I realized that sometimes you just jump on a train that never returns to the starting station.