From Jeonju to Kuching

Borneo Post

24-05-2025

The Kims share a joyful moment with close friends Tay (left) and Jennifer Lam (second right), captured in a photo-call.
WHEN Kim Sung Eun first landed in Kuching in 2018, it was for a job, not a life.
'Honestly, when I heard of Malaysia, I only knew Kuala Lumpur and Kota Kinabalu,' he said through his translator and friend Gerald Tay, a Kuchingite.
'Kuching? I never even heard of it,' the 47-year-old father-of-two laughed.
In that year, he came as a structural steel manager for a major construction project.
He treated Kuching as just another temporary site, 'a faraway posting and a career obligation'.
Sung Eun expected to work, earn money, and return.
But sometimes, life has different plans.
The South Korean never imagined he would one day bring his wife, Kang Su A, also aged 47, and their 11-year-old twin children, Kim Seolhui (Shelly) and Kim Jun Hui (Kai), to settle down in the Sarawak capital.
Fast forward to this day, the Kims are now running a cosy Korean restaurant at The Northbank, the starting point from Kuching and into Kota Samarahan.
From the high-pressure life in Jeonju, South Korea, the Kims have now found something in Kuching that many chase but rarely find: peace, balance, and a fresh start.
The Kims seen during a cave-tour adventure, signifying the family's appreciation for Sarawak's natural beauty.
'Discovering Kuching's quiet charms'
Back in Jeonju, Jeollabuk-do, famed for its Hanok Village and 'bibimbap', life for the Kim family was like a constant race against time.
From morning till night, their lives were ruled by the clock, recalled Sung Eun.
'At work, we had to move fast and avoid any mistakes. Even rests had to be scheduled.
'Moreover, it was not just the adults who felt the burden. The children were equally caught in the grind – academies, homework, tests, and constant comparisons, even among friends.
'Smiles then faded. Sighs became more common.'
Then came a turning point.
'Eventually, we began asking ourselves: 'Is it really okay to keep living like this?'
'That question led us to search for a slower and warmer life,' said Sung Eun.
To him, Kuching offered a stark contrast to the rushed rhythm of South Korea.
'Here, everything moves slower but in a good way.
'Kuching is compact, peaceful. Life happens within a small radius.
'The air is clean, the people are kind, and most importantly, we've found breathing space.'
When the Covid-19 pandemic began to ease in 2022, Sung Eun brought his family to relocate to Kuching.
While he continued working in South Korea, his wife and children remained in Kuching.
For him, the distance was very challenging.
'I lived alone in Korea for a year, while my family stayed in Kuching.
'It was hard. In March this year, I left my job in Korea and settled down here for good. It was not an easy decision, but it's one I never regretted,' he smiled.
The early days in Kuching were not easy because of the language barriers, administrative processes, and also the cultural differences.
However, with time, things began to change.
'Kuching is not a complicated city,' said Sung Eun.
'It's compact, but it's peaceful. What used to feel inconvenient, now feels comfortable.'
The family was especially thankful for the clean air and warm weather.
'In South Korea, due to yellow dust and pollution, we could not even open our windows.
'Our children wore masks outside all the time.
'Here, they can run and play freely without wearing face mask.'
Sung Eun (left) seen with some local friends during a Sarawak-Kalimantan border trip – something he never experienced in South Korea.
'Different way of learning'
One of the biggest changes that the family noticed was in education.
'Our children now attend an international school with others from many countries,' said Sung Eun.
'They are learning English and Chinese.'
Sung Eun was especially touched by one particular moment.
'I saw the older students helping the younger ones during break time.
'That kind of warmth is rare in Korea's school system, which tends to be very hierarchical.'
Examinations still exist, but the focus has shifted.
'It's not just about grades anymore. The system here encourages curiosity, creativity and interests.
'There's competition, but it's healthier, without endless tutoring or comparison,' said Sung Eun, whose children Shelly and Kai, bright and talkative and fluent in English, occasionally jumped into the conversation – mostly in rapid-fire Korean.
The Kims during an evening out at the vibrant Kuching Festival.
Every time, their father would gently, but firmly, remind them with a chuckle: 'English please!'
The two would giggle, switch languages mid-sentence, and continue on with enthusiasm.
Shelly chimed in excitedly: 'We love it here! Our school is fun, and the teachers are kind.
'We have made many friends too, and they are all so good to us.'
Kai nodded enthusiastically.
'I like that we can speak English every day. I'm getting better at it because school here is more interesting.'
'A life that breathes'
With lower living costs and simpler routines, the family has embraced the local life.
'Eating out and shopping for local groceries are affordable.
'Of course, the Korean imports are expensive but once you adapt, life becomes more manageable,' said Kang Su, noting that her children had developed a deep love for Sarawak's culinary offerings.
'We love the fried rice, the 'kueh tiaw', 'pan mee', 'laksa', 'kaya' toast, and curry chicken,' said Shelly.
'And the fruits too, especially durian!' Kai laughed.
ai meet a local sape player at the Kuching Festival Food Fair.
According to Sung Eun, the evenings now involve leisurely walks rather than work emails.
'We can walk outside without worry. Kuching is safe, clean and friendly.
'Once, we even found a lost item returned. There's a strong sense of honesty here.'
The city, he noticed, was developing at a comfortable pace.
'Kuching is growing, but not chaotically.
'Education, healthcare, commerce…all improving. It's slow growth, but stable. That gives us hope for the future.'
Sung Eun believed that many Korean families whom they had met chose to stay in Kuching for the same reason.
'Probably, there are around 500 Koreans living in Kuching,' he opined.
'Fireworks, festivals and family time'
For the Kims, Kuching is not just a home, but also a place of celebration – each is not just an event, but also a symbol of inclusion.
'We never feel like outsiders,' Kang Su said.
'We love the festivals here, like the Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Gawai Dayak, Christmas, and the Mooncake Festival,' she said, adding the family had visited the open-houses hosted by their friends during these celebrations, including at the longhouses.
'There's always something happening all year round.
'The kids love the fireworks. You don't see that in Korea – it's illegal,' said Kang Su.
'But here, it feels magical.'
The vibrant culture, coupled with genuine hospitality, has helped the Kims settle in.
'People here are patient. When mistakes happen, people explain kindly, and they don't scold.
'It's about people first, not pace,' observed Sung Eun.
Sung Eun and Kang Su taking their wefie at the Rainforest World Music Festival in Kuching.
'Taking it slow to truly live'
When Sung Eun briefly returned to South Korea last year, he was struck by how fast everything felt there.
'Everyone walked so quickly, spoke so quickly. Everyone's always rushing.
'At work, I used to hear shouting and see emotions running high. But now I realise, it wasn't because people were unkind or angry. It was just stress and exhaustion from always being too busy.'
Still, he did not deny the achievements of his home country.
'Our fast-paced lifestyle helped Korea rise after the war. That's something we're proud of.
'But we must also acknowledge the cost: stress, overwork, loneliness, and imbalance.'
That reflection led to a profound realisation.
'I used to ponder: 'Does speed and efficiency bring happiness? Or is happiness found in living more humanely like taking time for each other, choosing to slow down'?
'In Kuching, the family has started doing just that.
'We're smiling more. We're breathing deeper. Our children are brighter, and freer.
'Most importantly, they're learning to embrace who they are.'
Sung Eun and his lot spending quality time at the Samarahan Golf Club.
'A message to the locals'
While deeply appreciative of Kuching's natural beauty, the Kims are also concerned about environmental issues.
Sung Eun expressed sadness to see rubbish being thrown indiscriminately in some areas.
He said that in South Korea, the authorities imposed very strict rules.
'In every household, rubbish must be sorted into food waste, recyclables, and general waste. There are fines for not complying with this directive.
'It's strict, but it protects the environment.
'Here, I see some areas with illegal dumping.
'That makes me sad. This is your treasure, don't take it for granted,' he said.
'You have something precious, such as the clean air and rich nature.
'Please protect it. Manage waste properly. Don't lose what makes this place special,' he added.
Sung Eun and his children enjoy kayaking in one of Kuching's scenic rivers.
'Kuching's not an escape – it's a transition'
Now fully settled and running their own restaurant, the Kim family has found something they have been searching for, which is a slower and 'warmer' life.
With steady development in education, healthcare, and commerce, Sung Eun saw a bright future in Kuching not just for his family, but for the city itself.
'It's not growing rapidly, but it's growing healthily.
'That gives us hope…' he paused, then continued: 'Kuching is not an escape. It's a transition. A chance to begin again.'
For the Kims, the move from Jeonju to Kuching was more than geographical.
It was about choosing happiness over the stressful hustle-and-bustle, presence over pressure, and community over competitions.
As Sung Eun spoke, his children giggled in the background, sharing stories about their school friends and their favourite activities. Kim Sung Eun Kuching south korean