Safe in Seoul, Korean Ukrainian Maria Nam worries about her family members who remain in Ukraine.
Ms Nam's mother and younger sister fled to South Korea to join her after Russia's invasion, but her father remains in Kyiv and her grandparents are stuck in Kherson.
The Ukrainian port city fell to Russian troops at the beginning of the invasion in February.
"My grandparents … when we call them, they often say everything is OK, but I know they're scared," Ms Nam said.
"When they see the price tag changed to rubles, they are concerned."
Ms Nam came to Ukraine with her family when she was three and later moved to South Korea for higher education in 2014.
Tens of thousands of ethnic Koreans like Ms Nam's parents fled Uzbekistan and resettled in the southern part of Ukraine when the former Soviet Union collapsed in the 1990s.
Though living overseas, Ms Nam said the war made her feel more Ukrainian than before and she hoped she could go back once the fighting is over to help rebuild her country.
Many Korean Ukrainians share that sentiment, and for them the fight against the invasion means more than independence.
"My family doesn't want to live under Russia again," she said.
The watermelon province
Kherson, with its fertile farmland, is the watermelon province of Ukraine.
It became home to many Soviet Koreans, called Koryo Saram, when they first migrated to the country.
Many ethnic Koreans in Kherson are descended from those who were deported en masse from Russia's far-east in the 1930s.
More than 170,000 people were deported to Central Asia, under Joseph Stalin's policy of ethnic cleansing.
When the former Soviet Union collapsed in the 1990s, many moved again to Ukraine and built new homes in Mykolaiv, Dnipropetrovsk, and sometimes Crimea and Odesa.
The current governor of Mykolayiv, Vitaliy Kim, is also a descendant of Koryo Saram.
Since the invasion began his social media posts with updates on the local situation have attracted many followers including Ms Nam.
"He and his work is inspiring a lot of Ukrainians to fight," Ms Nam said.
"Because of him, I started to think about a political career. I hope in the future I can work in his party."
According to local reports, an estimated 20,000 to 40,000 ethnic Koreans were living in Ukraine before the war.
For Ms Nam, whose parents and grandparents were born in Uzbekistan, their move to Ukraine was about freedom.
"Being free to speak your mind is key to my culture, both the Ukrainian and Korean parts."
Reclaiming Korean roots
Marina Lee, 51, was born in Kyiv to an ethnic Korean father who came to study in Ukraine from Uzbekistan.
She also shares Ms Nam's belief that freedom is key to being a Ukrainian.
"Russian people have often liked hard-handed kings like Stalin, but in Ukrainian history, people have been free," Ms Lee said.
Like many Ukrainians who used to live in Kyiv, Ms Lee had a long escape journey before finding herself a temporary home in Ivano-Frankivsk, western Ukraine.
Before the war, she was a proud performer and conservator of traditional Korean dances in Kyiv.
With a little help from her father, who barely speaks Korean himself, she started to learn dances through internet videos, and travelled to South Korea to study.
For Ms Lee, learning and teaching dancing was a way to ensure her roots were not forgotten, after previous generations of Soviet Koreans were stripped of their language and customs.
She discovered Ukrainians enjoyed watching and learning Korean arts as well.
"I try to show people here our Korean culture. They are very interested. Everyone likes the dances and many like K-Pop and Korean movies too."
She is now also worried about the conservation of Ukrainian culture after the widespread destruction from Russian bombs.
Working as a volunteer at a Christian house taking care of refugees from across the country, Ms Lee doesn't want to leave Ukraine now.
"My life is here. They need my help now," she said.
"Same with everyone else, I want to defend our independence."
Korean Ukrainians don't want to fall victim to Russia again
Korean Ukrainian Oleksandr Shyn, who lives in Taiwan, is doing everything he can to help his home country.
"My life in the past month has been basically just trying to speak about the situation in Ukraine as much as possible, " Mr Shyn said.
Mr Shyn, whose grandfather was among those deported from Russia in the 1930s, said his grandparents were discouraged from speaking Korean.
His parents were raised in Uzbekistan and moved to Kherson when he was one.
They grew up with the perception that Russian was a much greater language, and that Russian literature and culture were superior to Korean language and culture.
"Their policies were directed at making everyone realise themselves as Soviet citizens first at the expense of whatever they had, their history, their memory, their culture, their languages," Mr Shyn said.
He lived in a secluded community when the family first moved to Ukraine.
In the beginning, his parents found it hard to integrate well in Ukraine, but growing up there with his siblings, "Ukraine is everything" for him, he said.
Revolution builds new identity
With recent democratic shifts — such as the Maidan revolution in 2014 which overthrew Viktor Yanukovich's pro-Russian government — Mr Shyn's sense of civic responsibilities became more pronounced.
"We could feel first of all empowered by the democratic changes in Ukraine. We started feeling more responsible for whatever is happening in the country."
Ms Nam's said her sense of belonging was also amplified by the revolution.
"This patriotic seed was planted inside me," she said.
"Ukraine means slightly different things for my parents and my generation.
"My father is still in Kyiv, helping people rebuild their houses. But if Ukraine loses, he will come to South Korea."
She said as an ethnic Korean, her father had the option of getting a South Korean passport.
"For me, it's better to go back to Ukraine. I will not change my passport.
"It doesn't matter if we lose or win, I want to help Ukraine to rise again."
