The latest calamity for the secretive state of North Korea was a rail disaster on the border with China last month, when an explosion killed 161 people and injured more, the majority of them children. The world rushed to help with multi-million-dollar offers of emergency aid. But for one aid worker with unparalleled access to North Korea, the greater struggle is raising funds for ongoing crises in the country, for problems that will plague the population for generations and that affect millions, rather than hundreds of people. Kathi Zellweger, director of international co-operation at Catholic aid agency Caritas Hong Kong, has visited the reclusive nation five or six times a year over the past nine years and travelled widely within it, a rare concession in a country with such strict travel restrictions. 'These emergencies help to draw attention back to the country, but the really major issues are generally ignored, that millions are suffering from a serious shortage of food, antiquated medical facilities and poor infrastructure,' Ms Zellweger said. On the morning of April 24, the day after the rail accident, Ms Zellweger contacted Jong Yun-hyong, the director of the North Korean government agency responsible for overseeing emergency situations, offering to send medical and emergency aid from Hong Kong. She received a response within hours. For Ms Zellweger, the fact that the North Koreans responded so fast, and had led representatives of international aid agencies in Pyongyang up to the blast site, is a reflection of how far the country has come since she first started working there in 1995. 'There was a time when such events would have been dealt with more 'discreetly' and it would have taken much longer for aid agencies to have been informed,' she said. Ms Zellweger said Caritas' offer of help was immediately accepted because of the trust it had built with North Korean officials. Ri Kil-lo, a consul at the North Korean Consulate in Hong Kong, said Pyongyang's nervousness about accepting aid from some agencies is based on bad experiences. 'In 1995, we were not open to foreigners, westerners, because they had a very bad reputation during the Korean war,' Mr Ri said. 'When the American soldiers offered some chocolates to prisoners, the media said, 'Look at the Korean beggars'. And in 1995, we thought foreign offers of aid were similar.' But Ms Zellweger had managed to build up communications with officials and overcome a lot of difficulties, he said. 'Now the local people welcome her and are happy to work with her,' Mr Ri said. 'She is even advising [North Korean] bureaucrats on their work.' Caritas works with the World Food Programme, UN Development Programme (UNDP) and several NGOs resident in Pyongyang. A resident of Hong Kong for more than 25 years, Swiss-born Ms Zellweger worked as a probation officer for young offenders in Switzerland and then in a remand home in Winchester, England, before she arrived in Hong Kong in 1978 to work with Caritas. Later, she was involved in helping Vietnamese refugees here, and when China began to open up in the 1980s she oversaw Caritas projects on the mainland. She said North Korea reminded her of China at that time. 'Doing aid work in China then took considerable patience, there was great bureaucracy and restrictions and people were suspicious of foreigners,' Ms Zellweger said. 'Infrastructure was lacking and people were very proud, they did not want to admit there were problems. Yet look at how China has changed.' But, she said, North Korea had a long way to go before it experienced China's staggering growth. 'Life for the average North Korean is a struggle for survival, an endless cycle of hard labour in the factories and offices, on farms or in the army,' Ms Zellweger said. 'Despite the hardships, people have not given up and are working hard to improve the situation. Being an aid recipient humiliates the proud North Koreans and so stimulates their determination to overcome the difficulties by themselves.' The needs are manifold. North Korea has been experiencing an ongoing food and health crisis for more than a decade. Nobody knows how many people died during the years of famine in the mid-1990s. The situation has improved, but large segments of the population remain vulnerable. UNDP reports say that more than 22 million people have to rely on food production from the barely 20 per cent of arable land available, on food aid from the international community, as well as limited commercial food imports. The medical situation is just as dire, with hospitals lacking basic equipment, drugs and trained staff. According to Ms Zellweger, in many of the hospitals she visited the wards were in darkness after sunset because of electricity shortages. In one clinic, she was horrified to see a beer bottle being used as a drip on a child. Despite all this, North Korea made its first steps towards an economic reform process in July 2002, with an adjustment of wages and prices and the opening up of street markets, although there is still little industrial activity. Ms Zellweger said going to the markets had become a daily task for many, something that had been unthinkable when everybody relied on coupons. 'Making money has become a common topic of conversation, especially among the young and more energetic in Pyongyang,' she said. 'But many have difficulties coping with the changes taking place in the country. The gap between the haves and have-nots is widening.' Signs of economic change are more obvious in the capital. At one hotel, she said, billiard and karaoke equipment were available for rent to local people who only recently were allowed to go to hotels where foreigners stayed. The key to Caritas' credibility when raising funds is transparency. Accusations of aid being diverted to the military are rife, but Ms Zellweger said Caritas made every effort to ensure this was avoided. What could not be stopped so easily was aid being diverted to the market place. 'With markets becoming more common in North Korea, bartering and selling of certain goods cannot be prevented, an issue aid agencies have to deal with in many other countries too,' she said. Ms Zellweger is Swiss in her insistence on neutrality when questioned on the political situation in North Korea, especially in regard to its part in causing the humanitarian crisis. 'The humanitarian response is saving lives,' she said. 'These interventions, however, do not offer long-term solutions. It is morally wrong to let people suffer and die on the grounds that humanitarian assistance might be used to support an unpopular government, the elite or army.' Today, Ms Zellweger said, aid agencies had greater access to areas of the country, although some parts remained out of bounds, especially the border areas with South Korea and China. Caritas refuses to donate aid to areas it cannot visit. People-to-people contacts have increased, but remain restricted. 'Even after nine years of assisting North Korea, we still know very little about how ordinary people think, or how they view the situation,' Ms Zellweger said. 'UN and NGO workers are often the first foreigners North Koreans meet. The fear and mistrust of the early days are fading.' Mr Ri said change was taking place but refused to be specific. 'I think foreign aid has had some significant impact on the country and the attitudes of people,' he said. 'It's not for me to comment; you can see the situation.' Ms Zellweger said she had received hate mail, usually from South Koreans, but she dismissed accusations of helping to prop up the regime. 'If the theory that humanitarian aid helps keep oppressive regimes in power holds true, then there would be many situations around the world where aid agencies and the UN would not be able to work and many people would be suffering,' she said. 'It does not mean supporting the government. They didn't do it in China and it should not be done in North Korea. The people are the priority, not the politics.' Economic progress may bring change but after so many years of propaganda and little contact with the outside world, it would be slow, Ms Zellweger said. This was not to say there was no desire for change, she said, but the generation that knew a different way of life before the Korean war was gradually dying off. The younger generations had nothing to compare their way of life with. 'People are not used to asking questions,' Ms Zellweger said. 'They are not taught to do so and there is a system of control that discourages questioning. When I travel around I see the remains of an infrastructure that once worked but is now in ruins. The country has seen better days and was once quite developed. Now it has to start all over again. The political situation remains unchanged, but the country is making tiny, tentative steps forward.'
