My main aspirations for committing to a study abroad program were to explore Korea and experience how computer science classes differ in another country. I chose KAIST because it is widely known as Korea’s top technology-focused university. Its curriculum is incredibly up to date and spans a wide range of diverse topics. However, as exceptional as the university is, it is equally rigorous. During the first few weeks, balancing the academic intensity while acclimating to a new culture, facing language barriers, and adjusting to a different academic rhythm proved challenging.
Academically, studying computer science at KAIST was very different from my experience in the United States. Classes were mainly reading off slides and often assumed a strong level of independence and prior knowledge. Professors spent less time reviewing material and more time pushing forward, which made falling behind feel especially stressful. This academic intensity, combined with cultural adjustment, made the first few weeks particularly overwhelming.
What helped me most during this adjustment period was the café and bakery culture in Daejeon. Bakeries are everywhere, selling croissants, tarts, and many familiar pastries in uniquely Korean forms. This is especially true in Daejeon, which is often called the “Bread City.” Sitting in a bakery with my laptop or a book became a source of comfort when classes didn’t go as expected.
I heard many other study abroad students describe similar struggles, and one thing they often said helped them most was creating a routine. On days when lectures felt impossibly fast and assignments stretched late into the night, stopping by a familiar bakery grounded me. Ordering some pastries, sitting at the same table, and working in a quiet corner became constants I could rely on. The baked goods were not only cheaper but also higher quality than what I was used to in America, which made everyday life feel easier. In a city where language, culture, and academic expectations were all new, these small routines helped me regain a sense of control.
For the first month, I spent most of my time alone. That began to change during Chuseok, Korea’s Thanksgiving. I sent a message in a group chat asking if anyone wanted to spend a night out in the city, and a group of exchange students from Germany responded. They were incredibly welcoming, and soon I found myself spending time with them almost every day. From that point on, life in Korea began to move quickly.
For those worried about going to KAIST or living in Daejeon because of its reputation as the “No Fun City,” there is far more to do than the name suggests. While it may not have massive shopping districts like Seoul, the city is full of smaller shops, cafés, and hidden gems. I especially enjoyed wandering through alleyways in search of cozy cafés or unique trinket stores. Even over the course of a semester, it felt impossible to see everything the city had to offer.
Daejeon is an ideal place for anyone who prefers a quieter city, less crowded spaces, and a chance to experience how local Koreans live. Many locals are incredibly welcoming and eager to interact with foreigners, as they do not encounter them often. Learning Korean is important since many people do not speak English, but even knowing simple phrases like “thank you” or “goodbye” makes a noticeable difference in how you are treated. Having a translator app like Papago was also incredibly helpful and made daily interactions much easier.
One moment in particular stood out to me. I told the owner of a café I frequented that I was leaving, and she told me to come back next summer before giving me a hug. Moments like that felt deeply personal, and I believe they would be much harder to find in a large, fast-paced city like Seoul. It was in these small, quiet interactions that I realized how deeply connected I had become to Daejeon.
Looking back, bread was never just food. It was a source of comfort and a bridge to community during one of the most challenging academic experiences of my life. Through quiet mornings in bakeries and long afternoons spent studying with a pastry beside me, I learned that resilience does not always come from grand achievements. In one of the hardest universities in Korea, bread helped me find balance and growth.
