Gen Z Speaks: From fencing to teaching kids Singlish, here’s what a year in Japan taught me about embracing the unknown

I’ve been fencing since the age of 13, representing Team Singapore at the Asian Youth Games, World Championships and Asian Championships. 
In 2021, while studying business analytics at the Singapore University of Social Sciences, I was thrilled to stumble upon the Japanese Chamber of Commerce & Industry (JCCI) Singapore Foundation One-Year Study Programme.
Having visited Japan before on holiday trips, my admiration for what I’d seen of the local culture as well as Waseda University’s renowned fencing team made applying for this scholarship a no-brainer — even if it required me to delay my graduation for a year.
With the help of strong recommendation letters from my university lecturer and secondary school teacher, I clinched the scholarship. In September 2022, I hopped onto a plane bound for Tokyo, filled with great excitement.
Life as a Waseda student was not just about burying my nose in textbooks and juggling multiple internships as I’d done in Singapore; it was an invitation to venture beyond the ordinary.
At Waseda, fencing training unveiled cultural differences and a clear hierarchy between senpai (seniors) and kōhai (juniors). 
Formality reigned — each session kicked off promptly with all of us standing in a single row, hands behind our straightened backs, awaiting instructions.
Despite Japan’s hierarchical formalities and disciplined approach, the Waseda team surprised me with its open and collaborative spirit. Strategies flowed freely, discussion and collaboration thrived, and team camaraderie was not just forged but strengthened. Fencing is, by nature, an individual activity — but fencing at Waseda very much felt like a team sport.
I also had the privilege of witnessing the legendary rivalry between Waseda and Keio University play out in a fencing competition, where the heightened atmosphere was unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Among the supporters was Kyosuke Matsuyama — Waseda alumnus, Olympian, and bronze medallist at the 2023 World Championships. 
Despite the intense competition, Waseda’s cheerleaders performed a cheer routine for Keio, and vice versa. It was a vivid reminder of sport’s remarkable ability to bring us all together.
The scholarship was fully sponsored by JCCI, and I was grateful for the freedom it afforded me to immerse myself in all that Waseda and Japan had to offer without worry. However, the road wasn’t entirely bump-free. 
To start with, I spoke no Japanese upon my arrival. A decent proportion of Waseda faculty and students speak English, but off campus, simple things like visiting convenience stores and restaurants proved a challenge during my first few months. 
Some introductory Japanese language classes at the university did help, but I quickly found that the most important key was being bold enough to speak Japanese imperfectly, so as to create opportunities for myself to learn more and connect with others. Not being a natural extrovert, I made a conscious commitment to strike up conversations with strangers whenever I could — restaurant and guesthouse owners, sushi and ramen chefs, passersby seeking help with taking photos, and so on.
Pushing myself this far out of my comfort zone turned out to be far more rewarding than I’d expected, leading to numerous insightful, meaningful interactions.
During a bus ride from Sendai to Yamagata, for example, I found myself seated beside a young Japanese couple who seemed curious towards me but a little shy. With a smile, I took the first step and greeted them. 
We ended up spending the entire hour-long journey talking about our respective cultures, favourite cuisines, and even our hobbies and pastimes. 
This memorable encounter is a testament to the warmth and hospitality ingrained in the Japanese people, and their innate enthusiasm for connecting with others — something I may have missed out on if I hadn’t resolved to set aside my fear of embarrassment and open myself up to others. 
I remain in contact with this couple to this day. We’ve made a pact to reunite if our paths cross again in the future.
I took countless trips to the countryside, weaving through 40 out of Japan’s 47 prefectures on sojourns that transcended the conventional tourist experience.
I visited Kesennuma Koyo High School in Miyagi prefecture on Mar 11, 2023 — the anniversary of the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the largest earthquake ever recorded in Japan that had claimed nearly 20,000 lives. 
On the school’s rooftop, townspeople gathered to share a minute of silence at 2:46pm, the exact time the disaster had struck 12 years ago. Folks gathered in groups to remember those they’d lost, sharing memories and tears. A group of aunties played tunes on little instruments that resembled seashell flutes; one of the songs they played was Amazing Grace. 
A group of locals, upon learning I was a foreigner, gave me a warm hug and thanked me for being there. They shared poignant tales of the area’s history, emphasising the crucial need to educate future generations about disaster prevention. Before we parted ways, they gave me a talisman for good luck.
At the guesthouse where I spent the night, a specially curated dinner was served, each dish meticulously wrapped in plastic. This was the exact method the guesthouse owner had employed to conserve precious water during the disaster, as the plastic wrap eliminated the need to wash dishes with water. 
Partaking in this poignant act of remembrance, I was reminded of how fortunate Singaporeans are in the simple fact of our geographical location. Not being susceptible to major natural disasters, we may never be forced to grapple with loss like this. 
As a recipient of the JCCI Singapore Foundation scholarship, I was eager to help foster enduring connections between Singapore and Japan.
Collaborating with a Japanese student through Waseda’s Intercultural Communication Centre, we brought our idea to life: A Singlish class for Japanese kids. 
At the time, Covid-19 restrictions required that this class be conducted online, and I didn’t know what to expect. 
Over 60 Waseda Elementary students logged in from their physical classrooms, their enthusiasm palpable even through our virtual connection. 
Teaching the kids the nuances of “lah”s and “leh”s and introducing them to colloquial terms like “chim” and “sia” turned out to be not merely a fun experience, but one that filled my heart with pure joy. The best surprise was the students’ vigorous excitement — they asked so many questions that we ran out of time.
Upon returning to Singapore in August 2023, I realised that my Japan adventure had not been just about indulging personal interests. Through navigating new environments and encounters, I had developed more than just a newfound independence and resilience — I’d gained a deeper understanding of life itself.
Back at home, my mum remarked on the positive change in me — a newfound stability, and a brighter, happier demeanour after a year away from Singapore.
This scholarship was more than an academic pursuit; it was a lesson that life encompasses far more than stellar grades, impressive job titles, or financial success. Genuine happiness can be found in the appreciation of smaller, simpler joys, the bonds forged with others, and in embracing new perspectives and experiences. 
Above all, life’s true treasures often hide in the most unexpected places, awaiting discovery by those who dare to venture beyond the familiar.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Jeremy Tan Zheng Yi, 26, is a former national athlete who represented Singapore in fencing from 2012 to 2017, and is presently pursuing a degree in business analytics at the Singapore University of Social Sciences. His current interests include travelling, photography, aviation, and listening to YOASOBI.