Whether you’re a pickleball addict, Netflix binge-watcher or matcha-crazed cafe hopper, we’ve all got our own ways of letting our hair down once we’re off the clock. But for folks of the Beycoolen Beyblade Club, they’re taking a page out of their childhood when it comes to destressing.

As their name suggests, they’re a group of Beyblade enthusiasts – yes, those plastic tops we’d use to fiddle with in days of yore – that congregate occasionally to battle it out. Long story short, one Instagram reel led to another, and a few DMs later, we found ourselves stopping by to partake in one of their weekly tournaments; here’s what went down.

Heading to their usual meet-up spot at Rocks Cafe

The time was 5.30pm, and it was business as usual on this Thursday evening. An air of restlessness was just about to set in around the office, but thankfully, we had places to be. We set out for Rocks Cafe, an eccentric cafe tucked away in the recesses of Arab Street that’s roughly a 10-minute walk from Bugis MRT station.

Not gonna lie, it wasn’t exactly the easiest to track down the cafe’s entrance. After turning left on the corner past Sultan Mosque, it’s located in the back alley of the first shophouse you come across. Before you head in, the cafe’s exterior is adorned with a collage of posters and concave mirrors, making it quite the spot for your fit check snaps.

After climbing a flight of stairs, Rocks Cafe didn’t look a beat out of place from its contemporaries along Haji Lane, except for one thing – in the middle of it all, a couple of Beyblade stadiums were already set up for the night ahead. Dusk was settling in, and rightfully, we had to quell our rumbling stomachs.

Clearly, the pizzas were so enticing that my colleagues took a chunk out of them before I could capture them whole. 

The cafe prides itself on whipping up refreshing cups of matcha and sinful servings of pizza, and after placing our order with the cafe’s owner, Mikey, we were in for a treat. The hearty 8-inch Burrata Caprese ( $18) and Pepperoni Pizzas ($14) were more than enough to fill us up, and the earthy tinge of their Ube Matcha Latte ($7) was just the thing to wash everything down.

Address: 98 Arab Street, Level 2, Singapore 199794
Opening hours: 2pm-11pm, Daily
Contact: Rocks Cafe Instagram

Getting up to speed with the current Beyblade X generation

Syahid inspecting the Beys of a blader before a match.

Most of Beycoolen Beyblade Club’s events are held weekly at Rocks Cafe on Thursdays from 7.30pm onwards, and pretty soon, the crowd started pouring in. We were then introduced to Syahid, 24, one of the club’s core members and a Game Master who’ll be officiating some of the matches for today.

He gave us a quick rundown of the events going on today – a G3 tournament and a community event – and very kindly offered to show us the ropes in the art of Beyblading. I don’t know about you, but it’s been a while since we’ve picked up one of these, so guidance of any sort was golden. He showed us how to hold the launchers, the right timing to release our Beys, and explained the rules of the game.

Launched in 2023, Beyblade X is the current generation of Takara Tomy’s Beyblade toyline, and the tops of today are quite different from the ones we might be familiar with. For starters, Beyblades, or Beys, of today are mostly made out of metal, making them much more robust than their archaic, plastic counterparts.

The stadiums are also equipped with a nifty gimmick. They house a rail-like ring near the perimeter, which meshes with the Beyblades’ grooves found on their tips to produce extreme speed. You need a total of 3 Beys to form a “deck” to compete, and there’s also a scoring system used for matches. Based on how you knock out or outlast your opponent’s Bey, you are awarded points – first to 4 wins.

We had some practice launches right after Syahid’s impromptu tutorial, and soon enough, the G3 tournament was underway. 30-odd people turned up, which was noted by Syahid to be one of the larger turnouts for one of Beycoolen Beyblade Club’s events. BTW, entry to the tournament is free, so there’s really no harm in heading down to have a go yourself.

Taking part in an official G3 tournament

Once the tournament commenced, the cafe roared with a cacophony of ripcords being yanked and the clang of cold steel.

With the way some of these Beyblade players AKA bladers were going at it, these whirling hunks of metal could very well cause some serious damage on an errant launch. Everyone was throwing their entire strength and weight into their launches, and we were warned on multiple occasions to stand clear of bladers who were about to let it rip.

In between the intense matches, we also had the chance to speak with Dhanie, 23, the founder of the Beycoolen Beyblade Club. The club was formed about a year and a half ago, in the classrooms of the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA), which served as the proving grounds for their first bladers.

Members of the Beycoolen Beyblade Club: Syahid, Dhanie, and Airi.

“A bunch of us would all be bored after class, and there would be an empty classroom which wouldn’t be occupied at all until late at night, so we decided, y’know, let’s just host a Beyblade tournament here,” recounted Dhanie. With the help of Syahid, they were able to migrate from the confines of the classrooms to hold tournaments at Kult Yard, a bar in Chinatown.

The club then moved their base of operations to Rocks Cafe in early 2026. “We also wanted to cater to the Muslim crowd, because they can’t go into the bar right,” Dhanie mused. “We moved here because it’s right next to the mosque and near cheap food, so it’s accessible for more people.”

We had to cut our chat short, as it would soon be our turn to take to the stadium. While we were observing matches – warily, and at a distance – our names were called out. In all honesty, it was pretty exciting yet overwhelming being in the heat of it all, and I understand why these guys go at it with so much gusto.

The tactile satisfaction you get from a successful launch scratched an itch I didn’t know I had, and watching the Beys clash and zip about the stadium is hypnotic. And then comes the exhilaration of scoring knock outs – also called an Xtreme Finish – on your opponent’s Bey, which will no doubt elicit flabbergasted gasps and boisterous cheers alike.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to experience any of those myself. In a series of anticlimactic bouts, 2 of us were knocked out in the first round, while the other fared slightly better, making it to the second round before being promptly dispatched. As we learnt, there are indeed levels to Beyblading, and it’s not purely a game of chance.

For starters, there are 4 types of Beyblades, namely attack, defence, stamina, and balance, and each type plays differently. Dhanie goes on to explain that, depending on the Bey’s bit, which is the tip that comes into contact with the stadium, bladers vary their launches by tilting their hands to “guide” their Beys.

A fist bump is customary at the end of each Beyblade match.  

“But at the end of the day, even casual players who don’t know all these tactics still stand a chance to win, because there’s still an element of luck in Beyblade,” quipped Dhanie. “It’s all part and parcel of the game, so you just have to congratulate your opponent for a good game and that’s that.”

The prizes of the G3 tournament were doled out once all matches had concluded, which consisted of rare Beyblade parts that you can’t typically buy from the stores. But for the bladers of Beycoolen Beyblade Club, the tournament was just a precursor for what was coming up next: the community event.

Learning more about the local Beyblading scene

Entry to Beycoolen Beyblade Club’s community events typically costs $6, plus a minimum of 1 item purchased at Rocks Cafe. 

A short intermission later, the Beyblading action picked up where it left off. Matches were electric, and the vibes were immaculate. The community event Beycoolen Beyblade Club had in store was the football-themed Kaki Ayam Cup, where bladers who turned up in their favourite football team’s jersey enjoyed a couple of perks such as extra lives in the cup.

They host these themed events every week alongside their G3 tournaments, and that week’s prizes were extra attractive. Winners walked away with a trophy, exclusive Beyblades, and jerseys from local football teams. We didn’t take part in this one ourselves, but instead went around to speak with some of the regular attendees of these events.

Ark in action.

And so, we thought, who better to ask than the winner of the earlier G3 tournament? We caught up with Ark, 29, who comes down almost every week to see what the club has cooked up. His initial interest in Beyblades stemmed from a chance encounter with the game when he walked past a huge tournament held in Funan in 2024, and the rest, as they say, is history.

He now heads the Easties Beyblade X team and hosts occasional tournaments under his HDB block in Tampines. But when they’re not celebrating podium finishes at events in their neighbourhood, Ark and his crew make the trip to Beycoolen Beyblade Club to mingle with like-minded, Beyblade-loving folks. “Apart from trying your best to win, it’s also about making friends,” Ark remarked. “We’re not the only team in Singapore, so it’s nice to meet others in the scene.”

For YH, 30, a member of the Easties Beyblade X team, he managed to reconnect with a long-lost secondary school friend at a Beyblade event hosted at a hobby shop. “I’ve not met this guy in 15 years, but we reunited at this tournament, and we’re still keeping in touch,” said YH. “It’s interesting how such a hobby can bring us back together.”

I could tell the duo was more than passionate about the hobby, and their moxie was almost infectious. Despite my constant flurry of questions, they were more than willing to entertain me and even offered to extend the same hospitality to newbies to the hobby. “Don’t be shy, Beycoolen is a very nice environment to start with, everyone is very friendly,” YH reassured.

In fact, Mikey, the owner of Rocks Cafe, will be more than happy to indulge you in a round of Beyblade. Dhanie and friends have roped him into the game, and he is now as huge a fan as the rest of the Beycoolen Beyblade Club. “When he’s not making pizzas, Mikey’s pretty open with playing with anyone who comes into his store,” Dhanie remarks excitedly. “We provide free Beys to use at the cafe, because we want to be as inviting as possible.”

Mikey, on the right, giving his all in a Beyblade match. 

And when you get families strolling in from time to time to participate in tournaments, you can’t get any more welcoming than that. The club gets its fair share of parents bringing their kids to Rocks Cafe to spend some quality time together, and it’s “not uncommon for the grown-ups to become more invested than the kids”, Syahid added.

Pick up a new hobby & give Beyblade a try

I’ve always thought of Beyblade to be, quite literally, child’s play, but after spending an evening with Beycoolen Beyblade Club, consider my perspective changed. After all, it’s got the competitiveness of any sport, and a “kampung spirit” surrounding the local community that turns strangers and rivals into friends for the long haul.

Take part in one of Beycoolen Beyblade Club’s events

For more hobby-related reads:

• Pottery classes in Singapore
• Pokémon trading card gym in Singapore
• Art workshops to sign up for with your SG Culture Pass credits

Also read: I’ve Spent Over $8,000 Collecting Trading Cards & Here’s What Having An Obsessive Hobby Is Like

Photography by Khoo Yong Hao.

The post I Joined A Beyblade Tournament At A Hidden Cafe & It Brought Me Back To Childhood Days appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

Long before I even entered university, the idea of going on an exchange seemed like the dream experience. The magnum opus of university life.

My Instagram feed was full of people posting about their exchange experiences. Travelling around with their friends, visiting a new city or country every weekend, and still finding time to have study sessions at aesthetic cafes.

And yes, I know Instagram is filtered to oblivion with all the good things, but after seeing all that, I couldn’t help but romanticise the whole university exchange experience. But of course, it doesn’t always look like that perfectly curated feed, and mine definitely didn’t.

Going to Korea for my university exchange

The subway to Seoul has a pretty sick view.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

I did my semester-long exchange in the latter half of 2025 in South Korea – the home of all things Hallyu.

For someone who’d grown up on Korean content since kindergarten, but somehow had never stepped foot into the country, this felt like a dream come true when exchange applications rolled in. Add on the fact that I’d more or less built my entire university life around Korean culture and media – including a planned final-year project that needed Korean connections to really pull off – this dream started feeling like something I had to do.

Applying for a spot, even though the competition was tough

But before I could lead my dream life, or so I thought, I had to go through the application phase first. I was desperate to secure a spot at a Korean university – slots were limited with a maximum of 2 students per school – on top of Korea being a popular exchange destination. And to make things worse, my GPA was slowly slipping with each passing semester. So I applied a semester earlier than planned, going all in and filling out my entire application with Korean schools.

My exchange university – who knew it would look this pretty?
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Thankfully, I was posted to my 5th choice – not my 1st option, but beggars can’t be choosers, and I figured I could make it work.

I was posted to a university in Incheon. Sure, it wasn’t Seoul, but on the bright side, I could get a unique experience that’s different from the city life I’m used to. And if I really wanted to, I could just hop on the subway to Seoul.

Plus, I wouldn’t be doing this alone, because there were 2 of us posted to the same university, which meant I’d at least have someone to crash out together with.

Preparing all the paperwork

And these were just the visa requirements – don’t get me started on the school application.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

We’ve all seen those IG stories of people posting their airport fits and boarding passes like it’s the start of their main character era. But what no one really talks about is the sheer amount of paperwork you have to get through before you even make it onto that plane.

Applying through your home university was only the start. After that comes a whole new wave of admin – from host university applications to visa paperwork – and honestly, I can’t even remember how many documents I’ve had to get in order.

It didn’t help that I chose to stay off-campus and find my own accommodation, because I preferred not to stay in my university’s dorms. Trust me, the dorms didn’t seem ideal – I was much more willing to take on the extra paperwork.

So Airbnb it was, with this one guy who had listings for about 100 units around the campus and could do longer-term leasing contracts.

Pro tip: Korea can be quite strict with its regulations for Airbnb stays, so don’t blindly follow this route. The only reason I went ahead was that it was clear there would be a contract for longer stays.

Planning for course registration to maximise weekend travels – this ended up being my actual class schedule.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

And while this doesn’t exactly count as paperwork, it’s similar and stressful enough to count. I’m talking about course registration.

Trying to curate the perfect mix of classes with a good schedule and interesting content was tiring, and so was familiarising myself with a course registration system that was a whole different ball game from what I was used to.

Thankfully, everything worked out in the end, and all my paperwork was in order. If you’re currently dealing with paperwork of your own, make sure to read the requirements multiple times to confirm what you need and list everything down in a spreadsheet to avoid making extra trips.

Packing for one of the most important milestones in my life

Beyond the paperwork, deciding what to pack for 4 months of my overseas life was also a hell of a beast. I was due to hop on a Korean Air flight there, and I had to work within a 23kg limit.

How many clothes to bring, and how to balance between summer and winter fits? What essentials can I buy there? Do I have space for Singaporean food in case of homesickness?

4 months’ worth of my life, painstakingly packed into Korean Air’s baggage requirements.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

After multiple rounds of Tetris-like manoeuvring, I somehow managed to close up my luggage at 23.5kg. A little over the 23kg limit, but luckily I didn’t get flagged for it. Try not to risk it like me, though.

My luggage was so full that I could barely bring any emotional support items, other than the tiny plushies that were already displayed on my bags. I didn’t even have space to squeeze in my Hangyodon plush that I’d gotten just to bring to Korea. Spoiler alert: I at least made up for it by buying way too many K-pop and anime merch there.

Other pre-travel preparations, like honing my language skills

By “other preparations”, a whole lot of it meant finding more reasons to be excited about my time in Korea.

TOPIK Level 2 might not mean much, but at least I knew some Korean before I got there.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Survival in Korea meant I had to at least know some of the language. With whatever Korean I had picked up since I was a wee child, I was somewhat confident in my basic Korean skills. Getting to actually apply what I know in my everyday life felt scary but also exciting.

Of course, learning another language can’t be that easy.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Practice makes perfect, so naturally I hit the books to boost my confidence in the language. Since I couldn’t really practice speaking while I was still in Singapore, this would be my next best bet.

I also signed up for a buddy programme that my host university was organising, and made contact with my assigned buddy, a local student who was studying there. Though getting my KakaoTalk, the main messaging app used in Korea, to work took ages – apparently, KakaoTalk hates foreigners.

The most stressful ticketing experience of my life; I was way too desperate for this one.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

And what’s an exchange in Korea without watching a concert or two? Sure, I missed out on tickets to SEVENTEEN’s concert, but I managed to cop tickets for PLAVE and natori before I even flew to Korea.

Needless to say, my spirits were high.

Finally making the move for my university exchange

Starting uni exchange off strong with a concert.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

I flew into Incheon half a month before the semester started – I needed the buffer time to settle into the country, and it just so happened that PLAVE had their concert then too.

These 2 weeks were spent cleaning up my new room, countless trips to Daiso to stock up on essentials, finding the best eats in the neighbourhood, and the occasional trip to Seoul to check out the anime exhibitions there. All in all, a good start to my new life here. Maybe I was still in my little honeymoon phase bubble, but I remember thinking, “Korea would be great!”

But things didn’t go as planned

My graveyard of batteries, all casualties of my faulty door lock.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Perhaps I should have realised that the 1st day of the semester would be foreshadowing the next 4 months.

Waking up at 6.30am to find a centipede with way too many legs that were way too long was definitely not a good sign, nor was the fact that my door lock stopped working and I had to leave for class with my apartment unlocked. I also learnt in my very 1st class there that my professor’s favourite quote is “life is unfair”. Yikes.

I didn’t realise it at the time, but this would be the start of my brush with Murphy’s Law.

Learning that I had to improvise, adapt & overcome

When everything that can go wrong does go wrong, all you can do is go with the punches and engineer a way to get around it.

When I fixed my apartment’s toilet flush with a string

Unfortunately, superglue didn’t work to fix this. I also got ID’d at Daiso for getting superglue, and I’m still trying not to think about that embarrassment.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri 

The toilet flush at home stops working right before a long string of public holidays, and your landlord won’t reply? You may want to try sticking your hand into the freezing water tank to replace the old, broken ball chain with raffia string from Daiso, as I did.

When my buddy went MIA & I was forced to make new friends

Dear confessor, you’re so right, I was almost that friendless bum.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri 

Local student buddy goes MIA after suddenly taking a leave of absence? That was my cue to go back to square one and make new friends.

Somehow, I ended up meeting one of my closest friends by striking up a conversation with another exchange student in between classes. And honestly, sometimes friendships form in the most unexpected ways, like bonding with your group project mate over how terrible your groupmates are. Complaining together really is its own genre of friendship.

Pro tip: Join a club or attend more events organised by the university for international and exchange students to make new friends, and be proactive about it. I skipped out on all these because I wanted more time to explore and chill on the weekends, but in hindsight, I would have liked having more friends around.

Struggling to communicate with other international students

I made sure to brush up on my Korean before flying there, but literally nothing could have prepared me for the amount of Uzbek I would be hearing.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri.

I even had to face groupmates speaking in a whole different language during group discussions because everyone else was from the same country. All I could do was pull up Google Translate and hope the translations made sense. Spoiler alert: they didn’t most of the time, but at least I tried.

Communication was one of the biggest barriers in my university exchange experience

“I can’t lah and lor in these conditions.”

These Speak Good English posters made the rounds on X in some discourse about Singlish.
Image credit: @uncle_deluge via X

Being born and raised in Singapore has made me accustomed to speaking Singlish daily – it’s simply easier and more efficient for me. Unfortunately, Singlish, or even regular English spoken with a Singlish accent, is apparently incomprehensible to your average non-Singaporean, and I was surrounded by them.

Out of necessity, I had to code-switch to “Speak Good English”, the same English you’d hear from our local newscasters and radio DJs. I may be used to switching to this accent for the occasional group presentation, but using it for every single conversation was a whole different story.

Of course, this wouldn’t be an issue if you simply stopped caring so much. The further into the semester I went, the less I worried about maintaining the “proper” English accent. Partially, I was too tired from trying to survive to think about it – it’s hard to keep it up when you’re close to crashing out every single day. Part of me also considered it as me getting closer to my friends, because that accent felt too much like a filter anyway.

Perhaps, to me, it just boiled down to “keep up the proper accent but drop it when you need to crash out.” Oh, and also, talk slower. Singaporeans talk notoriously quickly; you’re probably not any different, even if you don’t realise it.

“Fine.”

An average conversation where I overthink what I said, even though I know she doesn’t mean “Fine” in an annoyed way like I’m used to.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

When you’re interacting with people who don’t speak English as their 1st language, you’ll realise that a lot of nuance that’s natural to you is lost to them, which does mess with your brain a little.

Eventually, I learned to adjust to this language barrier, since my friends have been dealing with this from the start too. And that has led to some interesting cultural exchanges.

“I’m going to bed less dumb today!”

The cultural exchange with my friend went both ways, though it didn’t always turn out well.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri 

That’s something the French say when they learn something new, according to a friend I made.

Coming to Korea, I expected to learn a lot more about Korean culture. But somehow, I ended up learning more about French culture and language from that friend, all without ever setting foot in the country. For example, I learnt that the French use the AZERTY keyboard instead of the QWERTY keyboard we’re used to, which gave me considerable confusion while I was adding my contact to her phone.

I still talk to her on Instagram, and reels about the ridiculousness of the French language often appear in our chat. I will never get over the mental mathematics that goes into talking about numbers – why say 80 when you can just call it “four-twenties” in French?

Feeling homesick & not being able to come home

Between the loneliness and homesickness, being a 6-hour flight away from all your friends and family would definitely do a number on your mental and emotional state, especially if you feel literally trapped in the country.

Nothing I could do about it, but imagine my crashout when I saw this in my inbox.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

For context, my exchange student visa was single-entry, so I genuinely couldn’t leave Korea until I got my Alien Registration Card. After a whole bunch of circumstances, including a national agency literally catching fire, I only got my card 2 weeks before I was due to return to Singapore for good.

As expressed by another fellow exchange student in our official group chat. I felt that so badly.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

But in any case, it’s obvious when you’re going through it – my friend straight up told me I was “the saddest Singaporean” he’s ever met, and this was coming from someone who’s been in group projects with Singaporean exchange students 3 semesters in a row. And when you’re going through it, you’ve got to do something about it.

Things I did to cope that honestly didn’t help

Turning to alcohol

I decided the vibes on my solo Busan trip were perfect for a drink by the sea, but obviously, I don’t recommend turning to alcohol to deal with your problems.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Drinking your problems away won’t work, if it wasn’t obvious enough.

On one of my really bad days, I was joking with my friends that I should test my alcohol tolerance, so I got a whole bottle of unflavoured soju on my supermarket run and tried to chug it deep into the night. Horrible idea – I was aching all over by the end of it, and would never recommend this to anyone.

I feel like I should add that I didn’t really drink back in Singapore either. I just thought it would be worth a try and just be numb to everything. While it worked physically, my brain still felt pretty sober with all the racing thoughts. Plus, knowing I was going to feel horrible the next day definitely made it worse.

Watching depressing shows

For a while, I was reliving the old days of illegal streaming, with YouTube reuploads of shows cropped and surrounded by the most random clips.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

Also, don’t make yourself feel worse by watching depressing shows. I watched Uramichi Onii-san at one point, and to the uninitiated, this was basically the embodiment of working adults’ intrusive thoughts told through the cast of essentially Japanese Hi-5.

On one hand, it felt weirdly validating, like it wasn’t just me who was tired of everything. But on the other hand, the show gave me way too many existential crises for my mental health to take. Take it from someone who’s been through it: maybe leave these shows for when you’re in a better mental state.

Finally overcoming the struggles

Journaling was an outlet for my emotions

A snippet of my exchange logs, where I was actively counting down the days until my return to sunny Singapore.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

You know how self-care guides always have “journaling” somewhere in them? I was shocked to find out that they weren’t kidding, as much as I hate to admit it. A one-time exchange log where I spent 3 hours in the night ranting in a 5,000-word stream of consciousness led me to write a daily log to just vent about anything and everything.

Being OK with spending time alone

Sometimes, you just have to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, even if you’re all alone.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

It helps when you find something you enjoy in your off-time too. Personally, I fell in love with going to the movies.

Solo movie dates became a regular occurrence, especially at the cinema near my apartment – a full-recliner cinema with the same ticket price of KRW15,000 (~S$12.91) as a regular cinema. A recliner seat for about S$15 is pretty much a steal to me, and there were barely any people there, so I could watch my movies in peace.

Dealing with unsolicited comments about my university exchange experience

“How come you don’t have any pictures of yourself?”

Life is really the best when you can just enjoy life like this little guy I found.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

In case you haven’t actually noticed, there aren’t any pictures of me in this article. Because I barely took any in the first place. In fact, my relatives have actually asked my parents why I didn’t have any pictures of myself from the exchange.

And to that I say, “Why should I have them?”

I mean, obviously, I was alone a lot of the time, and being an introvert, I would never bother a stranger to help me take a picture. I’m not even photogenic anyway.

Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri

But also, I simply learnt that there’s a beauty in just living in the moment. You don’t have to worry about how you look or how to pose if you’re not constantly worrying about your next Instagram post. After all, you don’t owe it to anyone to prove that you did something. Just immerse yourself in the experience and focus on being fully present.

“I have never seen anyone happier to come back from an exchange.”

I was looking back at all my crashouts after I came back at the end of last year and realised I’ve been wanting to be back in Singapore only after 2 months in Korea.
Image credit: Andrea Chandra Putri 

Exchange is definitely a good experience, but that doesn’t automatically mean it’s a happy one. If anything, it made me appreciate Singapore a lot more – I was even praising the weather (though I have unfortunately taken back these words recently).

Do I regret going on an exchange at all? Well, like Frank Sinatra said, “Regrets, I’ve had a few.” I definitely could have made some better choices here and there, but that doesn’t mean I would have stopped myself from going at all if I could turn back time.

That being said, here’s what I would tell someone before their journey on exchange:

• Try to stay positive: I sure couldn’t, but try your best to find the bright side somewhere.
• Expect the unexpected: It might sound obvious, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared to stay flexible.
• Keep a good support system: It can get lonely on exchange sometimes – make some friends if you can, but also keep in touch with your family and friends back home.
• Enjoy the ride: You’ll likely never have a second exchange.
• Keep your expectations low: The less you expect, the less you’ll be disappointed and the more you’ll have pleasant surprises.

It’s not picture perfect, but going on a university exchange is still special

As much as I’ve complained about my exchange experience to my close circle, I would still encourage people to go on an exchange if the opportunity pops up. Sure, it might not be the picture-perfect experience you’d expect to see on Instagram, but it’s definitely an invaluable experience.

Read our other perspectives:

• First dating app experience
• Working as a Reintegration Officer
• Life of an international figure skater in Singapore

Cover image adapted from: Andrea Chandra Putri, @uncle_deluge via X

The post I Went On A University Exchange & It Was Nothing Like The Highlight Reels I Saw On Instagram appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

We’re living in the big 2026, and while the future may not look like flying cars just yet, getting around effortlessly has become almost second nature to us Singaporeans. A quick, comfortable ride is now just a few taps away on private hire ride apps, taking you from pick-up to drop-off with zero hassle.

With this service so essentially woven into our fast-paced day-to-day life, I sometimes wonder, “Man, the stories that these private hire drivers probably have!” The Ministry of Transport (MOT) is allowing us to peek behind the scenes, with a casual but no less insightful interview between Acting Minister for Transport of Singapore, Jeffrey Siow, and his buddy Gabriel Goh, who has been driving private hire cars for close to a decade at the time of writing.

This is part of MOT’s online series called Lift To Lunch, where the Minister catches up with a different transport worker in each episode via a lift to their favourite lunch spot. You’ll get a glimpse into the work done by these different members of the MOT family, with guests across the land, air, and sea transport industries. For the first ep, let’s hear from Gabriel:

Best foodie recommendations after years of driving all around SG

In the Lift To Lunch episode, Gabriel introduced Min. Jeffrey to a tantalising hae mee from Old Airport Road Food Centre’s Kallang Cantonese Live Prawn Noodle stall. Like many other private hire drivers, Gabriel is privy to an abundance of stellar food spots dotted all around the island.

Image adapted from: Eatbook, Max Lew via Google Maps

We got him to spill some of his best reccs, and he wasn’t stingy at all. Keep this list handy for the next time you’re in need of new hawker haunts!

• Wen Li Taiwanese Food at Golden Mile Food Centre
• Armenian Street Char Kway Teow at 303 Anchorvale Link food court
• Lavender Fish Soup at Wiseng Food Place, Crawford Lane
• An Shun Fish Soup at Block 174C HDB Hougang coffeeshop
• Leng Kee Fish Soup at Bukit Timah Wet Market & Food Centre

Most unforgettable ride of all time, fresh in his mind 8 years on

You might think that rushing soon-to-give-birth pregnant ladies to the hospital is a scene that only exists in movies and TV shows, but that was very much the reality for Gabriel one fateful morning. He arrived at a pickup in Sengkang, due for Thomson Medical Centre. That’s about a 20-plus-minute ride away, mind you!

Image for illustrative purposes only.
Image credit: Shutterstock

Upon whipping the door open, the passenger informed Gabriel that his wife’s water had already broken, and that the baby was highly premature. Fuelled by a sense of purpose, Gabriel managed to ferry the couple to the hospital in the knick of time, and later came to know that both the mum and her newborn baby girl were fine.

This took place 8 years ago, but the memory still surfaces clear as day for Gabriel when it comes to the most unforgettable ride in his career!

Going the extra mile for passengers & lifting their spirits

At its core, being a private hire driver means sending your passengers safely from point A to point B. But for Gabriel, that extra bit of effort to potentially improve a passenger’s day or lift their spirits is part and parcel of his job. It comes naturally to him to initiate convos with people he picks up, and it’s not just a simple “How are you?”, either.

Gabriel taps into details, like their destination, to create a relatable topic and start the ball rolling. Depending on the day of the week, he might also ask what the passengers have planned for the weekend. And for passengers who seem like out-of-towners, Gabriel loves to check in on whether they’re visiting Singapore for work or a holiday, before dispensing lots of tailored reccs for their time here.

Image for illustrative purposes only.
Image credit: Red Line Mods

In his previous car, Gabriel would even adjust the ambient light colours according to the passenger’s favourite colour. And to this day, he’s very attuned to the passenger’s mood, and will put on soothing tunes on Symphony 92.4FM if he senses frazzled nerves.

Private hire driving – How hard can it be?

Contrary to popular belief, driving private hire cars isn’t just about whizzing around on the roads. Gabriel shares that customer service and good public relations skills are part of the job scope, and having patience and strong self-awareness are a must.

Image credit: Gabriel Goh

With close to a decade of experience under his belt, Gabriel has learnt the importance of listening to your body’s signals. Power naps and well-timed breaks are key to being able to soldier on. He shares that a typical day of work starts at 5.15am before the crack of dawn, and only winds down at 4pm on weekdays or 3pm on weekends.

This is his routine 7 days a week, with breaks only taken on days with family commitments or the occasional vacation with his loved ones. So, the job is really not a walk in the park that anyone with a driving licence can do.

The repercussions of waiting till the last minute to board your ride

Speaking of downtime, let’s talk about whether tardiness is really that big of a deal. Admit it, it’s sometimes tempting to aim for as close to the cut-off point as possible to saunter into the vehicle, whether it’s to catch up with your pals just a tad more, or to take your time to get ready in the morning.

While it’s true that there’s a window of time before you get charged a late fee, it really isn’t a good habit to strive for just shy of the countdown ending. On an individual level, we may feel that it’s no harm, no foul to skedaddle aboard at 2 minutes 50 seconds past your ride arriving. But as Gabriel puts it, if around 80% of passengers practise this logic, it would add up to roughly 1 and a half hours of lost income per day. Over time, that really adds up.

So if you wanna make your private hire driver’s day, just be present at the pickup point by the time they pull up. It truly does make a difference.

Meaningful interactions & small acts of kindness

Little acts of kindness and consideration go both ways. On Gabriel’s end, he has a habit of doling out caring reminders to passengers who are heading to the airport or Woodlands Causeway.

It’s a must for him to do a quick check of whether everyone onboard has their passports on hand, and while you may think this is a pretty “duh” thing to ask, it’s almost always met with gratitude. After all, it’s a small but nonetheless thoughtful sentiment that could make the difference between a missed flight or wasted trip to the checkpoint if the answer turns out to be a nope!

Singaporean driving habits & top tips for fellow drivers

As someone who spends a hefty portion of his everyday life on the road, you’d expect Gabriel to have some well-informed insights on the driving scene in Singapore – as well as some hard-won tips and wisdom to share.

Image credit: Land Transport Authority

Not sugarcoating the situation at all, he admits that driving in Singapore can be “extremely stressful”, with common woes like drivers inappropriately filtering out at the last 50 to 100 metres of an exit, or refusing to let signalling mergers enter, even speeding up just to block them.

Gabriel observed that seasoned drivers actually have to adopt defensive driving tactics so as to avoid accidents. He advises fellow drivers out there to always stay sharp and locked in, an important practice to avoid falling prey to the fault of errant drivers. He also stresses that sudden manoeuvres are a no-no, such as jamming brakes or reversing when missing a turn.

Go-to playlist or radio stations to jam out to on the road

And finally, all that time spent in a car means that whatever’s playing on the speakers is pretty much the soundtrack to Gabriel’s daily life.

Image credit: meWATCH

When asked if his music reccs are as diverse and colourful as his list of food spots, Gabriel shared that he mainly tunes into Class 95FM on the radio. It’s not even about their music lineup, either, as the main draw is the talking segments courtesy of the station’s DJs. Gabriel’s absolute fave? The Muttons, and their hilarious interactions throughout the years.

Getting to know the people who keep your world moving

Private hire rides have become part and parcel of our fast-paced, hectic lives in this concrete jungle. We’ve all been in a situation where we heave a sigh of relief upon boarding a clean and comfy car, knowing we’ll be able to get to our destination promptly, safely, and without getting caught in the rain or squeezing with bus and train crowds.

But in these moments of contentment, we tend to forget the unsung heroes: private hire drivers who slog for hours day in and day out, getting us where we need to be.

The Lift To Lunch series gives us a rare glimpse into the lives of everyday Singaporeans who work hard to keep our world moving. Hanging out with Gabriel and getting to hear his insights – from foodie reccs to his views on autonomous vehicles – was just the tip of the iceberg.

Stay tuned to the Ministry of Transport’s Instagram page for upcoming Lift To Lunch episodes, where transport workers spanning land, air, and sea will be featured.

Check out the Lift To Lunch: Private Hire Driver episode

This post was brought to you by the Ministry of Transport.
Cover image adapted from: Gabriel Goh, Max Lew via Google Maps, Land Transport Authority

The post Tales From A Private Hire Driver In Singapore, From The Most Unforgettable Ride To Best Food Spots appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

It’s no secret that Singapore takes a firm stance on crime. But what happens after offenders serve their time? For many, life after incarceration comes with uncertainty – finding a job, rebuilding family ties, and learning how to navigate daily life again are just some of the hurdles one has to jump over shortly after becoming a free man.

Illuminating the way ahead are Reintegration Officers (ROs), the uniformed staff at Singapore Prison Service (SPS), who oversee and provide reintegration support to supervisees in the community. To understand the intricacies of the job, we sat down with Mr Loh Chee Yeong, 37, who has spent over a decade in SPS. From small wins that change lives to the professional boundaries officers must learn to draw, here’s what he’s learnt on the ground.

1. Prison officers don multiple hats throughout their career

Under SPS’s rehabilitation and reintegration framework, inmates undergo different programmes depending on their risks and needs. To better prepare them for release, suitable inmates serving the tail-end of their detention will undergo Community-Based Programmes (CBP), which allow them to serve part of their remaining sentence in the community under supervision. This means prison officers do not just work behind bars; they support inmates from incarceration all the way through to aftercare in the community.

Mr Loh’s journey reflects this. He previously served as a personal supervisor within the Changi Prison complex before being seconded to Industrial and Services Cooperative Society Ltd (ISCOS), a social service agency that facilitates employment for ex-offenders.

Today, as an RO, he works closely with supervisees on CBP and supports them in their reintegration. Such job rotations expose SPS officers to different facets of SPS’s work, and for Mr Loh, each role reinforced his sense of purpose in helping individuals rebuild their lives.

Mr Loh Chee Yeong’s interest in this field of work was sparked by a sociology module during his polytechnic days. In particular, he was drawn to deviant theories and was keen on helping troubled individuals turn their lives around for the better.
Image credit: Singapore Prison Service

“Our purpose is to help [ex-offenders] reintegrate into society.” Mr Loh said. But the shift from prison life to community living isn’t always smooth.

“The adjustment, the stress, the coming back into reality, and having to deal with financial problems, family challenges, marital issues – all these will come into play,” added Mr Loh. Supporting supervisees through these challenges is a core part of an RO’s role.

2. Family members are partners in rehabilitation

Recovery can be pretty tough for supervisees, and tapping into family connections will help them integrate back into the community faster.

SPS partners with agencies to deliver structured family programmes in prisons.
Image credit: Singapore Prison Service

“We’ll reach out to the next-of-kin to seek their support, because family involvement is very important,” stated Mr Loh.

One supervisee he worked with was initially reluctant to return home under CBP due to strained family ties caused by years of drug abuse. What changed his mind? His daughter’s encouragement. With her support, and his own determination to stay drug-free, he managed to slowly rebuild relationships with his family.

“It’s the people that keep [the supervisees] invested in their journey and remind them not to go back to a life of drugs,” said Mr Loh.

For those whose families are unable or unwilling to reconnect, community partners step in. Volunteers from networks such as the Home Team Volunteer Network provide befriending support – a reminder that sometimes, having someone who believes in you can be just as powerful.

3. Reintegration isn’t just about getting a job

The primary role of an RO is to support supervisees in their reintegration journey alongside strong support from community partners. 

Helping supervisees find work is important, but it’s only one part of the equation. ROs work closely with partners such as Yellow Ribbon Singapore to support supervisees in securing employment. Together with job coaches, regular check-ins are conducted to find out how supervisees are coping at work, and to help them to navigate challenges or adjust to structured routines.

They’ll also educate supervisees on important concepts that might be foreign to them, such as the necessity of having fixed savings, CPF contributions, and the benefits of a full-time job rather than a part-time one. Reintegration, after all, is about helping supervisees build sustainable, everyday routines – not just ticking boxes.

4. Beyond family members, rehabilitation requires all hands on deck

Not to take any credit away from the ROs, but successful rehab requires the efforts of the community as a whole. Mr Loh agrees, and he has quite the quote to back this up.

“The opposite of addiction is not sobriety; it is human connection,” said Mr Loh, quoting a TED Talk that deeply resonated with him.

“Most ex-offenders turned to drugs to fill a need in their life, be it boredom, loneliness, or some deep-seated trauma. It’s a continuous journey to keep [themselves] positively connected to society,” said Mr Loh.

ROs play a coordinating role, linking supervisees to relevant support such as counselling, addiction treatment programmes, employment services, and community groups. “We refer them to the right channels so they can get proper support and treatment,” Mr Loh explained.

At the end of the day, preventing re-offending takes a collective effort, from family members to volunteers, employers, and community partners.

5. Balancing duty & personal life is crucial

While Mr Loh sees most of his supervisees alone, he takes solace in knowing that he has a strong network of colleagues and supervisors to depend on for advice and support. This collaboration is crucial, especially when managing the unpredictable nature of their roles.

Given the nature of their work, supervisees or their family members may reach out to ROs even outside of working hours. Mr Loh shared that SPS has clear guidelines to help officers maintain proper work-life boundaries.

“There are certain hours we have to disengage, but of course, we don’t want to dismiss those who reach out to us,” said Mr Loh. Officers are trained to direct urgent cases to appropriate hotlines or agencies, and to re-engage them purposely during working hours.

Outside of work, Mr Loh enjoys spending time with his toddler and taking outdoor runs, finding small but important ways to recharge and stay grounded.

6. Breaking stereotypes with empathy & accountability

Since ROs work with supervisees from all walks of life, Mr Loh believes being open-minded is paramount to better empathise with supervisees who may come from diverse socio-economic backgrounds. “We have to understand that everybody is different and not default to harmful stigmas that society has labelled ex-offenders”, stated Mr Loh.

At the same time, empathy goes hand in hand with accountability. ROs support supervisees while also holding them responsible for their choices – a balance that helps foster personal ownership and long-term change.

7. Every engagement can make a positive impact

What keeps Mr Loh going? Seeing the quiet ripple effects of his work. He still receives text messages from former supervisees checking in on him and sharing updates about their lives. Bumping into them in public is also not uncommon. “When they come up to say hi, it tells me that, in some ways, I made a positive impact during that period of their lives,” he said.

Mr Loh recounts an encounter in public with an ex-offender whom he used to manage in prison. The ex-offender, who had been released for about a year at that time, was stressed that he couldn’t really secure any sort of long-term employment.

After a short conversation about possible pathways and not giving up, Mr Loh later bumped into him again, this time, to learn that he had started his own small business and is doing well. Mr Loh downplayed his part in this particular ex-offender’s drastic turnaround, but was glad that he could help, even if it was only through a short 10-minute chat. “These are the little things we do to try to share what we know, to impart our experiences, and hope they can make the best out of it,” he said.

Consider a fulfilling career with Singapore Prison Service

Mr Loh feels that he has grown immensely as a person through his career in the service. “I think I’ve become a lot more mature, a lot more understanding,” he said. Given how adept one has to be with interpersonal relationships, it should come as no surprise that the job is intellectually stimulating and requires a certain degree of emotional maturity.

Supporting ex-offenders in their journey of recovery is no easy feat, and not all cases culminate in a fairytale ending, that’s for sure. But for those that do, words cannot do justice to the fulfilment one gets from putting a life back on the right track; just ask the guy who’s been doing it for a decade now.

If you’re looking for a career that challenges you, promotes growth, and gives you the chance to make a tangible difference, SPS might just be the place; there’s also a sign-on bonus of up to $30,000 to boot.

Learn more about a career with Singapore Prison Service

This post was brought to you by Singapore Prison Service.
Photography by Shawn Loh.

The post 7 Things I Learnt About What Rehab Is Truly Like In SG, Having Worked With Offenders For 12 Years appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

For the longest time, I was convinced dating apps weren’t for me. I always assumed you couldn’t find anything truly genuine on them – that interactions would be surface-level and ultimately a waste of time. In my head, it would be better to meet someone the “authentic” way: in real life. But eventually, the lingering “what if” thoughts got the better of me.

So when I finally caved and tried dating apps for the first time, I told myself it would just be for a short amount of time; no expectations and no emotional investment. And that plan lasted about a month. Somewhere between getting unexpectedly attached, being told someone only wanted something “casual”, and even getting catfished, the whole experience became far messier than I had imagined.

Safe to say, my first experience with dating apps was anything but boring. If you’ve been through the same rollercoaster or you’re just curious what it’s really like, here’s what I learnt after a month on the apps.

Why dating apps were something I thought I’d never pick up

Image credit: Stacy Chew

At the age of 23 this year, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m still figuring out the whole adulting-and-dating thing. Alas, most of my friends are in long-term relationships, and sometimes being single feels a little lonely, which probably contributed to my curiosity about dating apps.

It didn’t help that all my past relationships happened organically – through mutual friends, shared spaces, or chance encounters that almost felt like a scene from a K-drama. I still remember meeting one of my exes at a bus stop near school late at night. We started chatting casually, and somehow that small conversation snowballed into something more.

Everyone but me.

Image credit: ThatOneGuyYearn via Reddit

For me, there’s something raw and authentic about building a connection in real life. So downloading a dating app had always felt a bit unnatural – sometimes, I wonder how many “how are you” I’d have to get through till I’m exhausted.

Still, I couldn’t ignore how much social media has changed the dating scene. Stories of couples who met online are everywhere, and eventually I thought, “YOLO, why not?” – maybe I was missing out.

The new norm of dating, or is it?

But before we get to that, let me walk you through the many doubts and overthinking that happened before I finally downloaded the app.

Can’t find someone IRL? Download a dating app

Nowadays, dating apps have become almost a first resort for meeting someone special if you can’t find them IRL. You either shrugged it off and moved on with life, or you downloaded an app to see what’s out there. Honestly, it feels like everyone around me has tried an app at least once, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what the dating scene looks like now, especially as a Gen Z.

Dating but on x2 speed now

Dating has also started to feel like it’s losing some of its essence because everything moves so fast these days. It’s easy to get attached quickly – texting someone every day online can create emotional connections even before you’ve met in real life, and this intimidated me. I wondered if dating apps would only make this more intense.

Consuming just another form of social media

Screenshot from: App Store

But at times, the idea of meeting someone online doesn’t sound all that scary either. The widespread use of dating apps feels completely normal now, especially compared to just a few years ago. Back then, people would react with, “Wow, you met your partner on a dating app?” These days, no one seems that surprised anymore  – using apps is widely accepted, and most people know someone who found a partner through one.

So this definitely eased some of my nerves about downloading an app and getting to know someone online.

Things people around me say about dating apps

Once I’d confronted my own fears about dating apps, there was a whole other layer to navigate: everyone else’s opinions about the online dating scene.

Downloading dating apps out of desperation

One of the most common things people say is that you’re only on dating apps if you’re desperate. There’s still a lingering stigma that people turn to apps because they “can’t meet someone in real life”.

But I came to realise that not everyone has the time or opportunity to naturally bump into potential partners. Life, when you’re an adult, has a way of reducing your social circle without you even noticing, and dating apps are simply another platform – similar to social media – but with clearer intentions. If you’ve ever felt slightly embarrassed about downloading one, trust me, you’re not alone.

It’s embarrassing to be on dating apps

Image credit: ruthlessdamien2 via Reddit

There’s also the idea that being on dating apps is somehow embarrassing. I knew a couple who met through a dating app but told everyone they met in a library instead, complete with a carefully constructed fictional backstory.

However, over time, falling in love with someone you met on a dating app seems to be more normalised. With how dating culture and social media have evolved, meeting someone through an app is not that big of a deal in hindsight.

People use dating apps for hookups

Another major assumption is that people only use dating apps for hookups. This was probably my biggest fear. While it’s true that some people are upfront about wanting something casual, I’ve also met individuals who were genuinely looking for serious relationships, companionship, meaningful conversations, or even just friendship.

As an introvert, I tend to assume the worst, so this genuinely surprised me. That said, the horror stories are not entirely fictional either. Ghosting, mixed signals, and even scammers do exist – and unfortunately, I experienced a bit of that myself.

Dating apps can’t give you authentic & romantic relationships

I shared some similar sentiments with this Redditor.
Screenshot from: Reddit

I also used to believe that meeting someone online made the connection less authentic or romantic. Now, I feel authenticity has very little to do with where you meet and everything to do with what happens afterwards.

It comes down to commitment, clear communication, and boundaries – including being willing to delete the app and stop entertaining other “suitors” if you decide to pursue something seriously. There are countless dating app success stories, and I personally know couples who are now married to partners they met online.

Finally, curiosity got the best of me

Image credit: Pexels

Now, back to where it all started. I downloaded Hinge in late 2025 mainly out of curiosity. My mindset was simple: if it works out, it works out; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Very calm. Very detached. Or so I thought.

I’d heard – both online and from friends – that Hinge tends to attract people looking for more serious or long-term relationships, unlike some other apps that get a reputation for hookups. So I decided to give it a try to “minimise the Ls taken”.

Experiencing burnout just a month later

Suffice it to say, I felt burnt out after just over a month. Swiping left and right became exhausting, and it started to feel as though I was browsing options rather than seeing people as actual human beings.

That was when I truly understood the paradox of too much choice. When there are endless profiles to scroll through, people can start to feel replaceable, and conversations can begin to feel disposable.

You catch yourself thinking, “if this doesn’t work, I’ll just swipe again,” and that mentality can be surprisingly demoralising. Some conversations also felt so surface-level and lacklustre that I simply stopped replying.

In a way, that’s one of the conveniences of dating apps – the likelihood of running into the person in real life is slim. However, that same convenience can make interactions feel less meaningful and more transactional.

Coming across troll accounts & people who obviously weren’t serious

A profile I came across on Hinge.

Image credit: Stacy Chew

I’ve also stumbled upon users who didn’t take dating apps seriously – some were just trolling, while others went full-on cliche, stuffing their bios with cheesy pick-up lines instead of actually saying something about themselves.

All these took me by surprise and even humoured me a bit – so, not all bad.

Some IRL experiences that lowkey killed me inside

I usually like someone’s profile if I see that we share some common interests – it just gives us something to actually vibe over. I’ll admit, I get a bit nervous at first, but I try to play it cool and just chat like normal.

When a conversation starts to feel real, and there’s a genuine connection, that’s when I start thinking about meeting up in person to see where it goes. It’s a big step from the comfort of the app, and truth be told, it came with its own mix of excitement and terror.

Being told it was basically just a “fling”

Chats were deleted, but I tried recreating them from memory.
Image credit: Stacy Chew

This might have been my dating app canon event.

Remember when I mentioned that people say everyone on dating apps is just looking for hookups? Well, when I finally thought I had genuinely connected with someone – after meeting up a few times, he suddenly told me that perhaps he had been looking for something casual all along.

The difficult part was that it never felt casual when we agreed to delete the app on the very first day we started talking, which, looking back, was slightly wild.

Image credit: Imgflip

Things move incredibly quickly on dating apps. You can go from complete strangers to emotionally invested within weeks, so when he said he wanted something casual, it genuinely crushed me.

I never expected to be on the receiving end of that kind of experience. We had a conversation about it, and I confronted him, but I eventually realised it wasn’t healthy and wasn’t working. So I chose to cut him off. But some part of me didn’t blame him because it had only been weeks since we got to know each other – maybe he simply didn’t know what he wanted.

That was probably the first time I truly learnt about self-respect in the context of dating. Did it deter me? A little. But after some time, I downloaded the app again. “Growth” – something I’d like to tell myself.

Getting catfished

Image credit: Memebase

And just when I thought things couldn’t get more dramatic, I got catfished. I genuinely never thought it would happen to me. On the app, he seemed decent-looking, but looking back, I probably should’ve seen it coming from the angles he took his photos.

When we met in real life, he felt like a completely different person, not just in looks but personality too, and I figured he wasn’t really my type after all, even though nothing was wrong with him.

So I decided to cut the conversation short and told him I wasn’t interested in continuing after the meet-up. It was a humbling experience, to say the least.

However, my dating app experiences weren’t all that bad

Made a few unexpected friends

Image credit: Stacy Chew

Fortunately, I managed to make a few friends – people who were genuinely relaxed and open to friendship. You know that unspoken understanding when both of you can tell it’s purely platonic?

We exchanged social media handles, kept in touch casually, and everything felt easy and natural. That was something that genuinely surprised me.

One of the unexpected upsides of dating apps is how quickly you can form connections and meet people outside your usual social circle. In a way, you can almost “speed-run” getting to know someone.

Learnt the importance of self-worth

I also realised that I need to be firm about what I’m looking for in a person and not settle for less – which means not giving in to attention that doesn’t feel right and staying true to myself. That in itself taught me a lot about self-worth, setting boundaries, and understanding what I truly want, and don’t want, in a connection. Honestly, I have no regrets about giving dating apps a try.

My honest takeaways & online dating tips

If you’re considering dating apps, here’s what I’d say:

• Go in with zero expectations for your own mental well-being. Please.
• Be open to friendships, not just romance.
• Know your worth – don’t entertain mixed signals.
• Not every conversation needs to be forced. It’s okay to politely reject or even stop replying if something feels off. Take this with a grain of salt.

If I could turn back time, I would simply tell myself that it’s really not that deep. Things move quickly on dating apps, emotions can escalate fast, and disappointments can sting more than you expect. But most of the time, it’s just part of the process.

Am I still on dating apps? No. For now, I’ve stepped away from them. But I also wouldn’t completely dismiss them. If you’re curious, I’d encourage you to try – just be clear about your boundaries and don’t let it consume your time or emotional energy.

How to stay safe on dating apps

Of course, it’s worth noting that using dating apps isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s equally important to prioritise your safety. After all, you’re potentially meeting someone you’ve never met in real life. Here are some tips on how to safeguard your well-being:

• Always meet in a public place for first dates.
• Tell a friend where you’re going and who you’re meeting.
• Converse on the app before giving out your number.
• Never transfer money to someone you’ve met online.
• Trust your gut. If something feels off, it probably is.

This might be your sign to try dating apps

Trying dating apps for the first time in 2026 was not what I expected – but not entirely in a bad way either. Some of my misconceptions were challenged, while others were partially confirmed. Would I say it’s for everyone? Probably not. But I also wouldn’t dismiss it the way I once did.

At the end of the day, dating apps are just tools. What really determines the outcome is how you use them, what you’re looking for, and whether you’re willing to put in the emotional effort beyond the screen.

Read our other perspectives:

• Highs & lows of being an F1 fan in Singapore
• Lessons learnt from losing friends
• Seeking restoration in nature on Sentosa

Cover image adapted from: Stacy Chew, cottonbro studio via Pexels

The post I Finally Got On Hinge After Years Of Avoiding Dating Apps & Here’s What Happened In A Month appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

Quick, name 5 Singapore singers you know. If you’re stuck after the usual names like Benjamin Kheng or Stefanie Sun, you’re not alone. But beyond the big names, there’s a whole lineup of homegrown artists to add to your playlists if you know where to look. Meet Angelica Teo, better known by her artist name “gels”, a 25-year-old creative strategist at a marketing agency by day and an R&B singer-songwriter by night.

We can all agree that behind many successful women is a mother who fought tooth and nail to give her the world, and Angelica is no exception. Raised by the ultimate “cool mum”, supermodel and actress Lyn Wang Teo, Angelica learnt from a very young age how to dream big and act boldly. This International Women’s Day, we’re spotlighting this mother-daughter dream team who’ve found success in hyper-critical industries while staying true to themselves.

Discovering her love for music

Image credit: Angelica Teo

Some people find their passions by chance or through years of trial and error, but music has been Angelica’s calling for as long as she can remember. When she was just 3, she could be found practising the piano or humming to Madonna’s Sorry by herself. By primary school, she was already taking to the stage, performing Mariah Carey’s Hero at her school’s talent show.

Angelica couldn’t resist music’s siren song and exhausted every avenue to hone her craft, from performing at school fairs to taking vocal training lessons under the Cambridge IGCSE Music programme.

Growing up & dealing with comparison

As she stepped into the spotlight to perform for her peers, she was faced with the same insecurities that plague most of us at that awkward age. “When you’re in high school, it’s so easy to compare yourself to your peers and tie your own self-worth to what your voice can do,” she confessed.

As a 2000s baby who grew up on high-octane anthems such as Geri Halliwell’s cover of It’s Raining Men and chart-topping belters like Ariana Grande, Angelica had to unlearn the myth that only vocal powerhouses could succeed.

Image credit: Angelica Teo

While her parents were supportive, often attending her performances and giving her feedback, the shift in her confidence came when she discovered artists like Alina Baraz, who are known for their soft and sultry vocals. She realised an artist’s greatest tool is not a high register or powerful voice, but their unique way of storytelling.

“I started seeing my voice as an instrument to communicate my creativity, rather than to impress,” Angelica shared. “When you’re not confident in your sound, it translates into your art, and that confidence is incredibly important to have.”

From passion to purpose

Building confidence in her sound

Though she stepped back from studying music in 2017 to enrol in St Joseph’s Institution’s International Baccalaureate programme, she turned up the volume on her personal projects.

Image adapted from: Angelica Teo, @lvndrofficial via Instagram

At 18, she started the independent group LVNDR with 2 friends, producing lo-fi tracks that drew from R&B, Bedroom pop, and Soul music. The group garnered over 300k plays on Spotify for their cover of I Love U 3000 by Stephanie Poetri, before disbanding in 2020 to pursue solo projects.

As the world slowed down during the pandemic, so too did the budding singer-songwriter. “Back then, I didn’t have the confidence to take the leap of faith and do music,” Angelica recounted, “I had been told all my life it was a fruitless career.”

A passionate advocate for mental health, Angelica instead pursued a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology at the University of Bath between 2019 and 2023, before returning to music after graduating.

Cover art for her singles “curious” & “am i”.
Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

While interning and eventually landing a job in a marketing agency, Angelica kept her foot on the pedal. Under the artist name “gels”, she released multiple tracks in 2024, including her debut single curious, a dreamy head-in-the-clouds song about intense infatuation. By the following year, her music was being distributed by the company ONErpm, which acts as a record label for independent artists.

Cover art & visuals for her single “simple crush”.
Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

Her soft lo-fi beats also started making way for heavier R&B-style bass and bolder visuals. From the disarmingly confident lyrics of you lied and simple crush to her debut EP rude awakening, it’s clear that the once open-hearted lovergirl no longer wears her heart on her sleeve; now she’s got a sharper edge and an even tighter leash on those who toy with her feelings.

This pivot towards R&B mirrored a deeper transformation in Angelica’s journey through womanhood. She shared, “R&B allowed the artists I was listening to to be bitter, confident, heartbroken, in love, and sexually liberated in ways I resonated with.”

“Since I turned 18, I’ve become more confident, assertive of my boundaries, and protective of my energy,” she affirmed. For Angelica, confidence isn’t a feel-good buzzword, but a product of years of experimentation with genres from pop to lo-fi.

Her worldly experiences and newfound self-assurance left her reflecting on her past with a sharper eye and a more fine-tuned ear for her craft.  “I recognise when I’ve done certain things as a response to society’s conditioning to act more ‘feminine’ or for the male gaze, and when I’ve been taken advantage of due to my lack of confidence in my place as a woman in society.”

Embracing vulnerability & opening up

As an artist who makes music for girls to “feel themselves and scream at the world”, Angelica channels the highs and lows of her early 20s into brutally honest and empowering lyrics in her EP, rude awakening, but embodying that courage took time.

Social media was one hurdle she overcame in putting her music out there. Although she’s amassed over 23,000 followers and a million likes on TikTok, Angelica confided that it felt “cringe” to promote her music at first. Over time, she embraced the idea that “to be cringe is to be free” because “life doesn’t reward potential, it rewards audacity”.

She practises what she preaches with daring and unfiltered lyrics that are unapologetically her. The catharsis listeners get from her raw honesty is just as freeing for her, a self-described “avoidant” who finds opening up difficult in her everyday life. “My first time performing was so scary because I was showing people my inner monologue and emotional turmoil in such a raw and personal way,” she admitted.

Image adapted from: @wotato_photos via Instagram

One of her most vulnerable songs, i hope you end up in hell, was born from an especially dark period in her life. She confided, “The main inspiration for this song was my experience being sexually assaulted when I was 19 years old by someone I thought I could trust. Since then, I’ve experienced iterations of the same event but with different people, and realised that the trauma was shaping the way I interact with the people around me.”

“The song is so incredibly important because sexual assault is so prevalent amongst young women,” Angelica shared. Recently, the Singapore Police Force’s 2026 annual crime brief showed sexual offences are on the rise, with 479 rape and 1,531 molestation cases reported last year.

“A lot of women have to live with the fear and anxiety brought about by these experiences, and are often expected to keep quiet about it so as not to ruin the perpetrator’s future,” she added. This fuelled her to put pen to paper and use her music to amplify the voices of those less heard by society.

“Our experiences often get invalidated and underreported for fear that no one will believe us and the justice system will not bring us justice.”

“It’s okay to not be over it. You don’t have to wish the person who did this to you well or forgive them,” she concludes. While she’s “done the work” and “gone to therapy”, Angelica hopes her music can comfort women forced to live through such experiences.

She shared, “It was incredibly emotional for me to write because it’s a situation I don’t think I’ll ever heal from, but I wanted other girls who’ve experienced the same thing to feel validated in their pain. From the DMs I’ve gotten, I think it hit the mark.”

Reclaiming her power through community

Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

Confronting the wounds she’s still recovering from gave Angelica a way to reclaim her agency. From a wounded angel grounded by rude awakenings to a veiled bride-like figure blinded by her lover’s lies, her most vulnerable experiences are transformed into art.

Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

“Writing music and creating visuals with my friends has been important in reclaiming control and taking back power in places where I felt I lost it, because when you’re most vulnerable, the thing you lack is control,” she pondered.

Through the growing pains of her early 20s, Angelica credits her support system as the bedrock that kept her grounded. A steady source of comfort has been her mum, whom she sent 20-minute-long voice notes to when she was going through a heartbreak while studying overseas.

Younger Angelica with her mum (left) and her mum’s maiden name tattooed (right).
Image adapted from: Angelica Teo 

“My mum is super supportive because she wanted to be a singer when she was younger, so she’s vicariously living through me in a way,” she said. Her mum shares and reposts Angelica’s content, and regularly streams a dedicated playlist with all her songs. “My mum and I are so close. She’s always there to help me piece things back together when I get a little lost.”

Like mother, like daughter

Breaking free from impossible beauty standards 

More than just Angelica’s number 1 fan, her mum is also none other than Lyn Wang Teo, a 90s supermodel who started her career young like Angelica.

Lyn walking for Versace’s Fall/Winter 1993 show.
Image credit: Angelica Teo

Lyn never dreamt of walking runways, but when her business struggled to take off, and the opportunity presented itself, she had the wisdom to pivot. At 23, she was on the road to making a name for herself, winning Elite Look Of The Year in 1991 and Best Model Award in 1993 while flying to work in cities like New York and Hong Kong. She brushed shoulders with the greats like Kim Robinson and Daniel Boey, and even walked for Versace, Givenchy, and Karl Lagerfeld.

With first-hand experience of how cutthroat the industry can be for young women, Lyn is also Angelica’s closest confidante, offering her a safe space from all the noise.

Sure, Angelica got a crash course on the art of posing and free rein to raid her designer closet, but growing up with a supermodel mum wasn’t always glitz and glam. Teenage Angelica felt she had big shoes to fill – literally, as she recalls trying and failing to do a catwalk in heels while her mum chuckled at her attempts.

Angelica with her older sister and mum.
Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

Sharing her mum’s striking features also meant constantly being compared to her, on top of Angelica’s insecurities about her scoliosis. In times like these, Angelica leaned on her mother’s mantra: “人比人，比死人 (rén bǐ rén，bǐ sǐ rén).” Translated to “comparison is the thief of joy”, it reminded her that pitting herself against others is a losing game because life is never fair. Instead, she was taught to nurture her character because physical beauty is fleeting.

Having lived through the heyday of the 90s “heroin chic” look, Angelica’s mum never wanted her to become a model, hoping to shield her from the body dysmorphia and unrealistic beauty standards of the industry. 

Her mum redirected her focus inward, teaching Angelica to take pride in her values, choices, and community. Angelica believes this laid the foundation for her creative process and shaped her into the introspective singer-songwriter she is today.

Angelica wearing her mum’s wedding qipao at her graduation ceremony (right).
Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

“We are both unique and beautiful women in our own ways. I’m really proud of my mum, and she’s worked incredibly hard to become one of the best models, but the presence of her achievements doesn’t mean I lack,” she elaborated, adding, “I guess it does help that she calls me beautiful and talented all the time though.”

Embracing criticism while building a career in the public eye

That said, her mum never shielded her from criticism; in fact, she encouraged her to seek it out. Angelica struggled with taking criticism to heart until her mum taught her that feedback isn’t an indicator of character, but how you manage it is.

Lyn lived by this as a young model, working overtime and walking for hours as her manager and bookers critiqued her. Taking a page out of her book, Angelica sees criticism as a roadmap for growth rather than a mark of failure.

Image adapted from: Angelica Teo

However, Angelica still embodies her mum’s free spirit and remains committed to her singular vision: prioritising self-belief over external validation. No matter what crazy fashion choice or radical idea Angelica had – although Lyn did raise a brow at Angelica’s bleached eyebrows – her mum encouraged her to explore and express her identity without fear of judgement. The same went for her passions.

Image credit: Angelica Teo

Angelica elaborated, “I don’t really think about what other people think because it’s unproductive for my creative process. I’m making music I like, and for others who may resonate with it too.”

When Angelica broke into an industry with more global than local stars, her mum gave her a 90s supermodel secret that still rings true today: Confidence will get you places.

Lyn acting in Season 2, Episode 4 of DBS Sparks (left) & Angelica performing at Phil Studio (right).
Image adapted from: DBS Sparks, Angelica Teo

Now, both mother and daughter are thriving: Lyn is signed with NOW Model Management and made her acting debut in Season 2 of DBS’ Sparks miniseries. Meanwhile, Angelica has amassed over 15,000 monthly Spotify listeners, was featured on global New Music Friday playlists as well as the cover of Spotify’s Rising 65 playlist, and performed her first live gig.

“Believing in yourself and not being afraid to dive in headfirst is something I’m learning from her every day,” Angelica concluded. “Another would be that rejection is redirection, and shouldn’t always be taken  personally.”

New music & future collaborations 

Angelica’s not taking no for an answer when it comes to making her wildest dreams come true. The singer is taking a bet on herself, resigning from her job and dedicating herself to her music, with future plans to tour. She’s already working on her next project, though she’s keeping the details on the low for now.

For now, you can stream her music on Spotify or follow her on Instagram for teasers of her upcoming releases.

As for a potential collaboration with her superstar mum, she’s got a few ideas up her sleeve, from a game show-style interview to a cameo in a music video, or sampling her voice notes in a song.

From the runway to the stage, this dynamic duo is proving that the sky is the limit as long as you trust in your capabilities.

For more music-related reads:

• Upcoming concerts in Singapore
• Upcoming music festivals in Singapore
• Best vinyl record stores in Singapore

Cover image adapted from: Angelica Teo, @wotato_photos via Instagram

The post I Was Raised By A Supermodel Mum & She Taught Me Vulnerability Is Key To My Success As A Singer-Songwriter appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

It’s 4am on a Saturday. While most of Singapore sleeps, international youth figure skater Joyce Yang is already on her way to the Blue Ice Skating Rink in Johor Bahru. Ever since the closure of The Rink – Singapore’s only Olympic-sized rink – in 2023, skaters have had to travel across the border just to train. With limited facilities and a shrinking pool of athletes, competitive skating here is slowly losing momentum, and by the end of 2026, Joyce will hang up her skates for good.

In fact, Singapore’s small presence in international winter sports has always been a chicken-or-egg dilemma: are our athletes under-supported because of limited results, or should support come first in order for them to flourish? With recent milestones like Faiz Basha, an alpine skier, being the first Singaporean to qualify for a snow event at the Winter Olympics, perhaps it is time to invest more in our winter athletes. But for Joyce, this is her current reality:

Discovering her love for figure skating in Canada

Image credit: Joyce Yang Yue En

Like Faiz Basha, Cheyenne Goh, and other Singaporean winter athletes, Joyce found her passion overseas. She moved from Singapore to Canada with her family at age 5, and tried out many different sports – but after a summer camp at age 7, figure skating stuck. “What inspired me was looking at the older skaters and seeing how graceful they were on the ice,” Joyce shared. “I wanted to be just like them.”

Soon, her potential was recognised at a learn-to-skate class at Skate Oakville, and she was invited to join the club’s pre-competitive team. Canada’s climate and skating culture made training accessible, and Joyce began to compete in nearby cities.

“I didn’t have a lot of achievements in Canada – my highest ranking was only 7 out of 20 people for provincials,” Joyce admitted. All of that was about to change, however, upon her return to Singapore.

The setbacks she experienced after returning to Singapore

But before she could flourish, Joyce had to weather her fair share of challenges, especially in a country without ice and a sport that demands stubborn levels of resilience.

Limited time when it comes to training

13-year-old Joyce was selected to compete in the 2022 SEA Open Figure Skating Trophy.
Image credit: Edge Ice Skating Club via Facebook

At age 11, Joyce and her family moved back to Singapore for good. With Singapore’s tropical climate and only 1 Olympic-sized rink back then, Joyce endeavoured to continue her sport under the Singapore Ice Skating Association (SISA), a not-for-profit National Sports Association.

She mainly practised at The Rink located in JCube. “It only opened 2 hours per day for figure skating, which really wasn’t enough. And on Saturdays, they opened a slot from 5am to 6.45am, so I’d wake up at 4am just to catch the bus,” she shared.

But according to Joyce, the modest skating scene actually came with a perk. “Since Singapore is a lot smaller and ice skating isn’t well represented, I had more opportunities to learn skills and elements.”

Facing Singapore’s different skating syllabus, Joyce started from the basics and passed checkpoints smoothly until she qualified for international competitions as an Intermediate Novice. The thrill of being able to hear the crowd and show what she’s capable of pushed Joyce on, and she made use of the limited ice time to skate 6 hours a week when in Canada she’d been able to train at any time.

Balancing academics & her passion

Image credit: Wei Wang via Google Maps

But skating clashes with the rigorous academics at Methodist Girls’ School, where she is currently studying. With high self-expectations and a flair for STEM, Joyce struggled to maintain her good grades. Skipping classes and exams for competitions was an inevitable part of her life, and often, not even homework could be submitted on time.

Her friends would keep her updated on homework and missed lessons, knowing that she keeps to a tight schedule. Of course, study hangouts were still an option. But what truly let Joyce keep going was an understanding school that would allow her to miss exams for major competitions. And while skating came 1st first and school 2nd, her priorities were blurring.

The Rink’s closure – the hardest challenge

The Rink hosted international competitions such as the SEA Open Figure Skating Trophy.
Image credit: @therinksg via Instagram

By August 2023, the then-14-year-old Joyce faced a challenge that sheer hard work couldn’t fix: the closure of JCube and The Rink, which left Singapore’s winter athletes without an Olympic-sized training venue.

“When I saw the news at the time, I was kind of in denial. I really was quite hopeful that there’d be more opportunities for us,” Joyce recalled.

The only rink left was Kallang Ice World, which was less than half the size that athletes needed. To practice their full routines, skaters had to head across the border to Johor Bahru, and even that could only take place once a week. With limited options, athletes in Singapore basically had 2 choices: move overseas or quit. Joyce chose a 3rd path: keep going, despite the uncertainty.

The things & people that have kept Joyce going

Despite the challenges, there were anchors that kept Joyce from calling it quits on the hard days.

Joyce’s support system

Joyce and her parents on holiday in Korea.
Image adapted from: Joyce Yang Yue En

If there’s one thing Joyce couldn’t have done without, it was her family. Figure skating is expensive, and her parents supported her for all of it – from overseas camps to $150/hour training sessions.

As an only child, her parents pooled together all of their resources in order to fund her dream. Be it competitions or overseas training camps, they would stay by her side to take down notes and keep her going with pep talks. “They always say that I should focus on the process rather than the result, so that even if I don’t do well, I know that I’ve tried my best,” Joyce said with a smile.

The camaraderie between skaters & words of encouragement from strangers

Image adapted from: Joyce Yang Yue En

Joyce has represented Singapore in Thailand, Hong Kong, and the Philippines in elite competitions like the Junior Grand Prix. She is now a Junior on SISA’s international squad and enjoys performing elegant routines to classical music.

Whenever Joyce feels pressured seeing other skaters on the ice, she tries to treat them as her teammates rather than rivals. Unlike what the stereotypes might say, Joyce has a tight bond with both her coaches and fellow skaters.

Joyce and fellow skaters at the 2024 SEA Open Figure Skating Trophy in Manila, Philippines.
Image adapted from: Singapore Ice Skating Association via Facebook

According to Joyce, much of figure skating depends on the psyche. “How well you can execute a jump depends mostly on your mental state. The physical part is the part that you’ve already mastered.” Whenever Joyce doubted her abilities, one thing that kept her going was the words of others. “We spend a lot of our self-practice during public sessions at the rink. And since figure skaters are so rare, a lot of people come up to me to say that they feel inspired seeing me on the ice.”

Although feeling jittery before a competition is part and parcel of being an athlete, she’s found a way to get into the right headspace by imagining her performance as just another training session. She also reminds herself to slow down much more than her usual pace, as she tends to rush things through in order to get the competition over and done with.

Making the decision to stop competitive skating

Sadly, even though she has pressed on for years, Joyce no longer sees a future as a competitive figure skater in Singapore. Which brings us back to why she has made the tough choice to step away.

Hitting a slump

Image for illustrative purposes.
Image adapted from: Anthony Tran via Unsplash

Despite Joyce’s best efforts, fewer and fewer skaters are left in Singapore – and it’s hard to continue on without a community. Even though Joyce was awarded the prestigious ISU Junior Scholarship in 2024 and 2025, she admits that she’s been losing her drive for excellence.

“Honestly, the main reason behind my loss of motivation is the environment. I need to train with other people my age and level to actually push my boundaries and reach higher, but I don’t really have that,” Joyce explained.

Joyce’s skills have plateaued, and these days she’s mostly just training to maintain things. “At my level right now, just 2 days off the ice would affect most of my jumps,” she said. Competitions aren’t as easy to fit into her schedule anymore, and she feels as though she’s reached her absolute limit.

Lack of facilities & support

Image credit: The Rink via Facebook

Joyce’s plan had always been to skate competitively for as long as possible, which meant school often took a backseat. But now, at age 17 and gearing up for the rigorous International Baccalaureate diploma, she’s decided to step away from that dream sometime in 2026. After all, most professional figure skaters retire in their mid-20s – and for Joyce, her goal no longer feels realistic.

“It’s just… I feel that this isn’t really the right environment for figure skating to actually bloom,” she shared.

Joyce’s story raises a wider issue.

SISA has yet to find a stable solution for its skaters, even as our winter athletes make headlines abroad. Cheyenne Goh became our country’s 1st Winter Olympian in 2018, and Faiz Basha will be representing Singapore as our 2nd at the 2026 Winter Olympic Games. Rye Ong also made history by reaching the short track semi-finals at the 2024 Gangwon Winter Youth Olympics.

Yet, many still have to train overseas for proper facilities. While SISA had plans for a new Olympic-sized rink this year, it’s been delayed due to a lack of funding. If Singapore wants to be a “Sporting Nation,” it raises the question: how can athletes reach their full potential without homegrown facilities?

Joyce’s next steps

Joyce is a member of her school’s Infocomm Club.
Image adapted from: Methodist Girls’ School

Now, Joyce has decided to put her studies front and centre, and focus more on her other passion for programming and computer science.

That said, skating will not be leaving her life anytime soon. “I’ve always wanted skating to be more of a hobby rather than an entire career,” she said. “If I didn’t have skating, I would not be the person I am right now.” Beyond the competitions, it’s taught her patience, emotional management, and discipline – lessons she says she’ll carry with her no matter what comes next.

The future of figure skating in Singapore is not yet bleak

Despite her decision, Joyce isn’t giving up hope for figure skating in Singapore. “I have faith that we will be able to build an Olympic-sized rink in the future. And after that is done, I feel that skating will grow in the years to come.” After all, SISA’s plans for a new rink have not vanished, and our winter athletes have already proven their potential and their need for more support.

The future may be uncertain, but Singapore’s figure skating scene is still holding out. And who knows – maybe the next generation of skaters can put our Little Red Dot on the map.

For more sporty reads:

• How to watch World Cup 2026 for free
• 28 pickleball courts in Singapore
• SEA Games 2025 recap

Image adapted from: Joyce Yang Yue En, Singapore Ice Skating Association via Facebook

The post The Reality Of Being An International Figure Skater In A Country Without Ice & Why I’m Hanging Up My Skates appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

Even as someone who celebrates Chinese New Year every year without fail, I’ll admit I’ve never gone all out decorating my own home. A few Mandarin oranges here, some red “auspicious” stickers there, and that’s usually the sum total of my festive effort. So when I fell into an Instagram rabbit hole of HDB void decks that looked more happening than my entire flat, I was instantly intrigued.

I stalked the account and realised that the person behind these intricate CNY displays isn’t even Chinese. She’s Anitha Tamilmaran, a Singaporean who’s been transforming HDB void decks at the Cantonment Towers cluster with festive decorations for a while now. And the best part is: most of her decorations are made from recycled materials, things most of us would toss without a second thought.

A creative mind, a mother & now a heartland artist

Transitioned from interior design to community art

Anitha assembling her Christmas 2025 HDB void deck decor.
Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

Anitha’s story starts somewhere a little more ordinary. She was an interior design graduate who stepped away from her career to focus on raising her children. But even as a full-time mum, she volunteered in her kids’ school whenever she could, teaching art and sharing her creativity.

When her sons grew older, she tried to re-enter the workforce, but like many parents who’ve taken a long career break, she found it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. So to keep her mind sharp, she dived into the financial markets to challenge herself in a different way.

These days, though, Anitha has since paused that pursuit entirely to pour her energy into completing her festive decoration cycle across HDB void decks – and right now, at 50 years old, this has her full attention.

Turning waste into wonder

Kolam made from recycled materials, designed and put together for Cantonment Primary School.
Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

You’re probably wondering, “Why go through all this trouble?” I had the same question – craft supplies are readily available everywhere, so I had to ask why she sticks so firmly to recycled materials. Turns out, Anitha has been working with recycled materials for years, just without consciously labelling it as such.

For instance, one of her past projects involved decorating Cantonment Primary School with a kolam, a traditional South Indian decorative floor art you usually see during Deepavali. Her version was made from food packaging, bottle caps, and fruit foam nets instead.

Graduation banner created by Anitha for her son.
Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

For Anitha, it’s no longer just about making decorations look nice. “Now, I feel genuinely elated when I can turn recycled materials into meaningful artwork. It gives the work a deeper purpose,” she shared.

As for where she gets her recycled materials, she usually sources them from all over the neighbourhood. Residents sometimes contribute items, and she keeps a lookout at nearby shops, gyms, supermarkets, malls, and recycling areas that she passes daily.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are proudly reusing last year’s CNY decorations out of pure laziness, no judgement though, and she’s out here turning “trash” into festive pieces.

The project that started it all

National Day mosaic Singapore flag

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

Her journey of decorating HDB void decks started with a Singapore flag for National Day, but not the kind we hang on our window ledge every August. It was a huge 6ft x 9ft mosaic SG flag, created to commemorate SG60.

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

The idea came up casually during a chat with her RC chairman about National Day decorations, and Anitha decided to take on the challenge. She gathered anything red and white she could get her hands on, from bottle caps to paper bags, bubble wrap, and styrofoam – all transformed into an eye-catching tribute to the nation.

What was meant to be a one-off community project became bigger. Riding on the success of the flag, Anitha pitched another idea to her RC chairman: why not do something similar for Deepavali? And when she received the same warm response, she realised she could really make a difference, one void deck at a time.

Taking on public art for the first time

A peacock for Deepavali and a snowman for the Christmas decorations.
Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

That National Day project was Anitha’s first foray into public art. Up until then, her creations had mostly stayed in classrooms or smaller community spaces. Suddenly, she was making something huge, meant to be enjoyed by everyone.

And since that first installation, Anitha has been spreading her recycled festive magic across her neighbourhood. From Deepavali to Christmas, and now Chinese New Year, Anitha is slowly but surely working her way through a full festive cycle.

The ups & downs of a one-woman show

At least 2 months of prep per festival

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

Behind every colourful display is a lot of unseen effort, and most of it falls on Anitha’s shoulders. Each of her festive setups takes at least 2 months of prep. She’s also mostly running a one-woman show, handling everything from planning and sourcing materials to building and installing the displays.

Occasionally, her husband pitches in, and sometimes residents or seniors drop by to help with the simpler bits. “Because they are seniors, I never expect or demand too much from them,” she said.

Before a single decoration goes up, Anitha takes the time to explore the culture and meaning behind each festival. She then chooses a story she wants to tell, and figures out how to bring it to life respectfully, creatively, and of course, with recycled materials.

Anitha also shared that weekends tend to blur into workdays – not out of obligation, but because she keeps raising the bar for herself. Every installation is a personal challenge to make it bigger, bolder, or more meaningful than the last.

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

However, she’s aware that these high standards come with trade-offs. She candidly shared that setting such expectations can make the process more challenging and time-consuming, but it has also pushed her to grow and pick up new techniques. Without pushing herself, she wouldn’t have discovered what she’s truly capable of. Over time, she has learned to balance perfection with practicality, finding simpler and more efficient ways to achieve the results she wants.

Finding balance between passion & rest

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

When Anitha first started taking on these massive festive projects, the people around her naturally couldn’t help but worry. Family, friends, and even the seniors who hang out in the neighbourhood would chime in with gentle reminders not to overexert herself, as they’re concerned about her health. She had to reassure them that this isn’t a burden, but something she truly loves doing.

Some residents bring her snacks or drinks, knowing full well that she can get so absorbed in her work that she forgets to eat. For the really big setups, she does get extra hands, but most of the time it’s just her and her husband sharing the workload.

Anitha’s husband is her pillar of strength, constantly reminding her to rest and recharge.
Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

Her days can stretch from 7.30am to 11pm, with breaks only when she’s completely spent. Even when she’s not physically working, her brain rarely switches off – ideas pop up while cooking, exercising, or simply resting – every moment is a chance for inspiration, according to Anitha.

Sometimes, she forces herself to slow down by watching a movie, with her husband stepping in as chief reminder that even the most passionate creators need to rest.

Overcoming challenges beyond her control

Anitha measuring the void deck’s ceiling height to ensure her decorations fit.
Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

We may marvel at the pictures of the decorations now, but behind the scenes is a side most people don’t see: the stress of leaving your hard work at the mercy of the weather. Wind and rain are constant worries, especially when many of the pieces are handmade and naturally more delicate.

Because every installation is created from scratch, Anitha feels extra pressure for them to not only look good, but also survive in a public space where people can walk up and touch them. She and her husband spend hours discussing stability and structure to figure out how to anchor everything securely while still keeping the designs as she had envisioned.

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

She uses lightweight recycled materials but reinforces the structures with strong backing and industrial tape. Before anything goes up, she and her husband test the stability, and she makes regular visits after installation to check on the pieces and carry out maintenance.

For her CNY decorations, one design element she used a lot was the lattice pattern, a criss-cross or grid-like design made up of repeated lines that intersect. As the void deck walls had gaps and worn sections, the lattice pattern covered gaps and added support, all while visually tying the space together.

Having a space to work on her craft

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

Another problem Anitha encountered, especially during her Deepavali project, was the lack of space to work on her craft. Her home turned into a craft studio, with materials everywhere and work-in-progress pieces in corners. In her words, “My house was honestly a mess.”

As the installations got bigger and more detailed, it became clear she needed proper space to assemble and store everything. That’s when she approached her RC chairman to ask if she could use the RC space to work instead.

After getting the green light, that spot became her go-to “workshop”. She’d be there consistently building piece after piece as the scale of her projects kept growing.

The heart behind her CNY decorations

Anitha’s CNY setups are easily some of the most elaborate pieces she has created to date – not just in scale, but in the thought and meaning behind them too.

A moon gate to symbolise harmony

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

One of the most striking features is the moon gate – a circular doorway you often see in traditional Chinese gardens. The circle symbolises unity, harmony, and prosperity, and is linked to the full moon, which is believed to bring good luck.

She shared that these installations give people a chance to understand cultures beyond their own. Even within the same religion or tradition, many meanings aren’t widely known until someone takes the time to explore them. The moon gate ended up being one of those unexpected educational moments, with residents discovering its symbolism simply by stopping to admire the piece and chatting with her.

True to Anitha’s style, the moon gate was built almost entirely from recycled materials gathered with help from friends and the community. The main structure came from onion packing netting, which a friend helped collect from a storekeeper in Hougang.

She also sourced items from a temple, reused empty spray cans from Fitness First, repurposed a discarded washing machine cover for the base, and used Ferrero Rocher chocolate packaging as decorative details.

A grand horse “statue” for the Year of the Horse

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

Besides the moon gate, the horse “statue” is another highlight. Funny enough, naming the horse turned out to be harder than building it. Anitha lamented that she discussed ideas with many people, but nothing quite clicked at first.

Her original vision for the horse was actually very simple – a light, almost white body with a black mane. But midway through the process, her son’s girlfriend made a comment that stuck: it didn’t feel “grand” enough.

The horse in its original state, before Anitha spruced it up.
Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

That’s when Anitha began adding touches of red and gold – colours associated with prosperity and good luck in Chinese culture. “It suddenly felt powerful and auspicious,” she recalled. “I went home that night exhausted, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how different it looked.”

She did more research and discovered that in Chinese tradition, the Fire Horse is often depicted in red, symbolising strength, vitality, and auspicious energy. And coincidentally, the colours that were added felt right and aligned with the culture.

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

Of course, she couldn’t just name it “Red Horse”. The word “Hong” stood out because of its layered meanings depending on the Chinese character – it can mean red (红), or grand or magnificent (宏). They have the same pronunciation, but different meanings.

After nearly 2 months of casually researching names, Anitha decided to name her creation Hong Rui Ma (宏瑞马) – a name that matched not just how the horse looked, but the spirit she wanted him to carry.

Cai Shen Ye to usher in wealth

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

Another standout in the CNY setup is Cai Shen Ye, the God of Wealth – a figure many people associate with prosperity and good fortune for the new year.

Anitha’s version was built from everyday discards. Yoghurt cups became his ears, recycled boxes formed parts of his body, and that’s honestly just the tip of the iceberg. “There are many – too many to list,” she shared. “Every time I discover a new way to reuse something, I feel elated.”

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

One moment, in particular, stayed with her. “One day, while I was working on site, I saw 2 young ladies bow respectfully to Cai Shen Ye. That was when I felt I had truly done justice to the piece.”

That small gesture meant everything to her. It showed that even though the materials were recycled, the intention and respect behind the artwork still came through.

Koi pond & bamboo backdrop for more huat

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

Anitha also managed to turn everyday items into koi pond and bamboo backdrops. TV boxes became the pond base and frame, giving the structure a sturdy backbone. Tissue boxes were cut and used to resemble “water”, while coffee bags and toy covers were repurposed into koi fish bodies and fins. Even green samosa packaging got a second life, rolled up to form bamboo stalks.

She carefully traced and cut out Chinese characters like “财” (wealth) and “春” (spring), weaving even more meaning into the entire setup.

Cherry blossoms to symbolise the arrival of spring

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

No CNY display feels complete without a touch of spring, and Anitha brought that to life with clusters of cherry blossoms scattered throughout the installation.

Here’s the interesting part: the blooms were made from pink wardrobe refresher plastics. As someone who loves working with colour, Anitha made sure the installation was bright and vibrant.

Many other structural elements are hidden in plain sight, so we highly recommend swinging by to see if you can spot what has been repurposed.

Chinese pavilion roof often found in traditional parks & gardens

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

Last but not least, there’s the Chinese pavilion roof, the kind you’d usually spot in traditional gardens and parks, like our Chinese Gardens located in Jurong.

Those upward-curving roof edges are called “flying eaves”, and they symbolically reach towards the sky, while the structure itself sits on the ground. The design reflects an ancient Chinese belief in the harmony between heaven, earth, and humanity.

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

As fancy as it sounds, Anitha didn’t build this with fancy materials. She used recycled boxes, cups, and caps to form the roof, cleverly placing the structure above a void deck entryway so it actually feels like you’re walking through a mini pavilion.

What’s next for her HDB void deck festive decor journey

She loves creating, but it hasn’t been easy

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

After hearing about the time, effort, and energy that goes into each installation, I had to ask the question on my mind: Is this something she plans to do long-term?

Anitha’s answer was refreshingly honest. “This journey came to me unexpectedly. I love creating out of the box, but the process is physically and mentally taxing.”

Between long hours on site and months of preparation for every festival, this passion project is no small feat. So while she may not continue doing large-scale seasonal installations forever, she knows she’s definitely not done creating.

For now, her focus is on ensuring the upcoming Hari Raya decorations are just as meaningful and thoughtful as the festive wonderlands she has brought to life before.

What happens to the decorations after the festival ends

Image credit: Anitha Tamilmaran

And if you’re wondering whether all that hard work gets taken down immediately, the answer is not always.

Some murals and installations stay up for as long as they’re structurally sound, depending on the RC’s decision. Since Anitha volunteers her time and labour, the final call on what remains is in the RC’s hands.

That said, many residents have shared that they hope the pieces can stay for as long as possible. It’s a sign that these decorations have grown into more than just seasonal backdrops, becoming parts of the neighbourhood that people have grown attached to.

Stretching every dollar with creativity

Image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

For displays that look this grand, you’d expect a big budget, but Anitha has kept costs surprisingly low. Most of her spending goes to basics like glue and simple materials. Her National Day flag cost about $75, Deepavali decorations came up to $179, and Christmas decor was $279, with the RC reimbursing these expenses.

For the CNY project, she upgraded her tools through the HDB Lively Places Fund and Challenge, which helped her get better cutters and equipment. Even then, much of the spending went into practical things, like double-sided tape needed to keep everything in place.

So nope, Anitha isn’t paid to do this, but volunteers her time and energy simply because she wants to bring joy to the neighbourhood.

Giving HDB void decks a whole new life

If you’d like to see these festive decorations up close, you can head down to the Cantonment Towers HDB cluster – Block 12 at the RC corner wall, Block 16 facing the bus stop, and Block 8 near the ramp.

Anitha shared that a resident once told her he lives in Block 8, and every time he brings his elderly mother downstairs, her face lights up when she sees the decorations. “Knowing that I could bring joy to elders feels like a blessing to me,” she said.

In a space we usually just walk through on the way home, Anitha chose to create something that makes people pause and smile, and perhaps that’s just kampong spirit many of us didn’t realise we’ve been missing.

Follow Anitha’s journey on her Instagram account and keep your eyes peeled for her upcoming Hari Raya decorations.

More perspectives to read:

• Highs & lows of being an F1 fan in Singapore
• Lessons learnt from losing 5 friends before the age of 20
• Singapore Airlines cabin crew secrets

Cover image adapted from: Anitha Tamilmaran

The post Meet The Singaporean Keeping The Kampong Spirit Alive By Turning HDB Void Decks Into Festive Wonderlands appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

F1 has only grown in popularity over the years, and as someone who has been a fan of the sport for a bit, it’s been an absolute blast. But no fandom comes without its faults, especially one this huge, where conversations and opinions exist primarily online.

So here’s a look at the highs and lows of being an F1 fan over the past 2.5 years.

Breakdown of F1 terminology

Image credit: Reddit

Before I carry on, I thought it’d be best to explain some of the F1 jargon that’ll be dropped along the way. Here’s a quick breakdown of what they all mean:

How I got into F1

Now that we’ve got the jargon and what it actually means out of the way, let me set the scene and explain how I even became an F1 fan in the first place.

Back in 2019, my brother-in-law tried to get me to watch F1, but I refused, saying that it was boring to watch “cars go around in circles.” All I really knew about the sport was Lewis Hamilton, like most people, so I didn’t think much of it.

Fast forward to 2023, TikTok started serving me edits of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris on my For You Page. The edits were mostly collages of the guys looking good in their racing suits, but I got curious and started Googling to learn more about who these guys were. That’s when I discovered that Lando hadn’t won a race yet, despite being in the sport for 5 years by that point, and I found myself rooting for the underdog.

FOMO slowly crept up on me, and I got sucked into all the race weekend chatter, so I started watching the races live.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Downsides of the F1 fandom

Like any fan space on the internet nowadays, you can’t get away from online drama. I’ve found my spaces in the online community, but some corners of this fandom have been quite challenging to navigate.

Toxic comments from other fans

Image adapted from: ‘Arifah Malik

Remember how I mentioned that Lando hadn’t won a race? Well, that fact led him to receive a ton of online hate, including the nickname “Lando Nowins”. Every time Lando didn’t have a good weekend, the comments would flood with this nickname, along with claims that he didn’t have the mental fortitude to be a race winner. And when he did start winning races, apparently, he was just “lucky.”

2025 was when it got absolutely maddening as he and McLaren teammate Oscar Piastri were essentially head-to-head fighting for the World Drivers’ Championship (WDC). Fans from both sides were at each other’s throats the entire year, right up until that final race. Winning the WDC in 2025 didn’t stop the Lando hate train either. Many comments continuously reiterated how he was “gifted” race wins, that Oscar or Max Verstappen were more deserving of it, and that McLaren was playing favourites.

Some of that bullying had bled onto the fans, with many of us getting judged left and right for being a fan of his simply because they didn’t believe he met the standard of what a good racer or World Champion should be.

Lando filming a video for World Mental Health Day in 2024.
Image credit: McLaren via YouTube

As a fan of Lando, I know he’s not Max or Lewis. They are generational talents on a whole other level, and you can’t really compare them to someone like Lando, who, like most drivers, took much longer to find his footing in the sport.

But I like Lando for reasons of my own, mainly his openness about his mental health struggles, his loyalty to his team, and his appreciation towards his fans. So, I’ve held on to these ideas to help myself leave the negativity behind and enjoy watching my favourite driver succeed.

Veteran fans trying to gatekeep

The older fans I know IRL were really excited to know I was starting to watch the sport, but that has not been the case online. Ever since the release of Drive to Survive (DTS) on Netflix in 2019, there has been an increase in fans who discovered the sport through the documentary.

And not all veteran fans have been thrilled about it. Some get quite passive-aggressive and constantly want new fans to prove themselves as “real” F1 fans. If they aren’t able to meet this standard, then they’re just a “DTS fan”.

Image adapted from: ‘Arifah Malik

To preface, not all of the veteran F1 fans do this. A handful of them are quite open to teaching new fans about the sport and are very encouraging. But with the nature of the internet, many of these commenters are ruthless and target these newer fans behind a screen, so many of us have had to wade through a lot of negativity to find spaces in the online fandom for ourselves.

Female fans also get a similarly bad rep, as we’re often accused of only liking drivers for their looks. As a fan who also happens to be a girl, it’s really more than that. It takes time to keep up with races week after week, learn significant events from past eras, and understand the different on-track rules that affect the outcome of the races.

Sure, the thirsty TikTok edits might be the introduction, but you’ll definitely have to like more than just the hot drivers to put up with watching 1.5 to 2-hour races for 24 weekends of the year. And some of these races start as early as 4am, too. I think female fans deserve more credit than they’ve been given by the F1 fan community.

The highlights of being a fan thus far

Witnessing thrilling races

Image credit: F1

With 2 drivers in the same team, tensions are bound to happen. While the World Constructor’s Championship (WCC) is a team effort, there is only 1 WDC, and every team has different methods for handling such situations. Sometimes, they employ team orders. When a team senses that the drivers are about to race each other for position, for example, if there’s a driver in 2nd place and his teammate is in 3rd, teams get to decide if the driver in 3rd place is allowed to fight for position.

These races are highly risky for teams, as any collisions could put 1 or both drivers out of the race. More often than not, teams would tell the drivers to “hold position,” which means that the driver in 3rd is not allowed to overtake the driver in 2nd. Whether the drivers abide by these instructions is up to them, but most would.

Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc battling for 3rd position in Monza 2023.
Image credit: F1

But sometimes teams let the 2 teammates battle it out on track, and that’s when it gets interesting. You get to see them scrap with that tiny voice in the back of your head going, “They could collide at any point.” Teammate battles are some of the most exciting kinds of on-track action. Take the Ferrari battle in Monza, Italy, in 2023. For context, Italy is the home of Ferrari fans, AKA the tifosi, and the Italian Grand Prix is where they show up in full force. So the 2 Ferrari drivers are always under a lot of pressure to deliver for their home crowd.

During the Italian Grand Prix in 2023, then Ferrari teammates Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc were neck-and-neck for a majority of the race. Red Bull drivers Max and Sergio Perez were already ahead in 1st and 2nd place, leaving 1 final podium spot for the Ferrari drivers to fight for. They overtook each other, were side-by-side, and had multiple near collisions. They battled all the way to the chequered flag and ended the race with an insane gap of only 0.1 seconds, with Carlos gaining the upper hand and finishing the race 3rd.

The one-on-one battles are always the most nail-biting part of watching these races live – there are so few of them nowadays, so it’s an absolute gem when you get to witness these full-on battles as they happen.

Investing in collectible merchandise

Some of the cars in my McLaren F1 collection.
Image credit: ‘Arifah Malik

F1 isn’t just about what happens on track – the merch game is dangerously strong too. Beyond the usual caps and team kits, they’ve also collaborated with LEGO. Yes – F1 has a few official LEGO sets that are up for grabs, including a Speed Champions set for every team that was in the 2024 F1 roster. They even have an adorable baby Duplo set. Let’s just say my LEGO collection has only grown ever since.

I also got my hands on the classic cap and team kit. Seeing people wearing F1 merch out in the wild always tickles me, but it’s especially thrilling when the race finally comes to Singapore near the end of the year.

Immersing in the Singapore Grand Prix weekend

As a September baby, I was always curious why F1 was always happening during my birthday. Now that I’m a fan, it’s been an absolute blast.

My terrible attempt at the F1 simulator in 2023.
Image credit: ‘Arifah Malik

In 2023, my birthday weekend coincided with the Singapore Grand Prix, so my friends and I enjoyed a lot of F1-related activities. We went around checking out the different F1 pop-ups, got some vintage merch, and tried the F1 racing simulator – which I evidently was terrible at. I’ll happily stay in my lane as a spectator and not a racer.

I still remember the excitement of hearing the cars up close as we walked out of the Promenade MRT station. It was insane. We decided to scout around, looking for a spot to catch the race, and ended up on a spiral staircase outside Marina Square. It overlooked a tiny portion of the track, but that was enough for us as diehard F1 fans. That race ended up being a historical one.

Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris celebrating 1-2 at the Singapore Grand Prix 2023.
Image credit: F1

If you’re a fan of Carlos Sainz or Lando Norris, you’ll understand how absolutely bonkers that race was. Carlos, then in Ferrari, had pulled a master strategy to keep George and Lewis’ Mercedes cars – both with fresh Medium tyres – from catching up to him and Lando, who were 1st and 2nd place respectively. He did so by slowing down to keep Lando within his Drag Reduction System (DRS) range, which allowed Lando to defend both of their positions from the incoming Mercs.

Carlos had called that strategy on his own, securing a win for himself and 2nd place for Lando, his close friend and former McLaren teammate. This win was also coming out of a relentless Red Bull streak, where Max had broken the record for winning 10 consecutive races, and no non-Red Bull driver had won a race that entire season.

Singapore Grand Prix 2023 was the first race I watched in person, and I got to see all of this play out in real time. My best friend Alisya, who is a Carlos fan, and I were absolutely buzzing for hours after that night. To this day, she believes that I brought on some birthday girl luck for that race and, although I’m not that superstitious, I’ve accepted it as a sign of fate.

Scenes from Singapore Grand Prix 2025.
Image adapted from: Alisya Mohamed

Alisya has been my companion to the Singapore Grand Prix every year since. I’m kind of sad that the dates have been pushed to October, so no more birthday luck to spend, but the race weekend hype continues to be a must-see for us every year.

You start hearing about it from both F1 fans and non-F1 fans alike, whether they’re complaining about the road closures or just curious whether anyone they know would be heading down to see it in person. It’s always fun to see the streets of Singapore come alive when F1 is in town.

Watching my favourite driver become a World Champion

Image adapted from: @lnfour & @mclarenf1 via Instagram

Despite all the toxicity that I had to endure as an F1 fan, it was all worth it when I finally got to see Lando Norris cross the finish line as a World Champion in 2025. It’s been a wild ride to witness how far he’s come from when I started watching F1 in 2023. Since then, Lando has won his first Grand Prix, earned McLaren the WCC twice, and finally fulfilled his childhood dream to become the 2025 WDC.

I got truly emotional watching him tear up as he soaked the moment in. Seeing him prove everyone wrong, and by such a small margin at that, was absolutely satisfying to watch play out. I could finally wear my Lando merch with pride.

Here’s what to look forward to in F1 from 2026 onwards

If my story has drawn you in, let me catch you up on what F1’s about, along with some new developments to look forward to from the 2026 season onwards.

F1 weekend breakdown

Singapore Grand Prix 2025.
Image credit: F1

An F1 weekend usually consists of Practice 1 and 2 on Friday, Practice 3 and Qualifying on Saturday, and ending with the main race on Sunday. Qualifying is broken down into 3 sessions, with 5 drivers being eliminated after the first 2, and ending off with the final 10 drivers battling it out for the 1st spot on the starting grid, AKA pole position.

On race day, only the first 10 drivers who finish the race are eligible for points. The top 3 finishers then get to celebrate together on the podium. Here’s a breakdown of the points allocation for an F1 race:

Additionally, there are also the Sprint weekends. The Sprint race is a newer race format that began in 2021 with fewer laps and no pit stops. During Sprint weekends, Sprint Qualifying and the Sprint race take over the Practice 2 slot on Friday and the Practice 3 slot on Saturday respectively.

The Singapore Grand Prix will be hosting a Sprint weekend for the first time in 2026 – a choice that has sparked some debate. It’s already brutally hot in the car even when the sun is down, so the thought of drivers going flat out earlier in the evening for a Sprint has fans side-eyeing the decision.

Here’s a breakdown of the points allocation for an F1 Sprint race:

11 teams & 22 drivers

Image credit: @cadillac via Instagram

From 2026 onwards, there’ll be 11 F1 teams competing for the WCC, with the Cadillac Formula 1 Team entering the sport. The current F1 team Kick Sauber will also be known as Audi moving forward.

With 1 more team comes 2 more drivers, bringing the total number of drivers competing for the WDC to 22, so we can look forward to more action on track. Here is a quick look at all the different teams to look out for in 2026 and their respective drivers:

Let’s hope that there aren’t any driver changes that will drastically change this line-up. But having been an F1 fan this long, I’ve come to expect some driver changes in the mid-season. I’m looking at you, Red Bull.

New technical regulations

Regulation changes usually mean that the upcoming season is any team’s game. All teams will have their own interpretation of the new rules, and we’ll only know which teams were successful come the 2026 season.

The main notable difference is that there would be no DRS system anymore, which is being replaced with an energy deployment system to assist in overtaking.

F1 is more than just a sport

Despite the bad apples, being an F1 fan has been a great time. I’ve gotten to interact with fans from across the globe and create my own small community of F1 fans, both online and offline, to enjoy the sport with. Regardless of where life takes me, I see myself being an F1 fan for many years to come.

For more fandom perspectives:

• Life as a male K-pop fan in SG
• What it’s like to be an anime fan in SG
• Being a Taylor Swift fan in SG

Cover image adapted from: F1, Alisya Mohamed

The post I Was Told I Was “Just a TikTok Fan,” Then I Watched My Fave Driver Become The World Champion appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.

Dealing with the death of someone you know is never easy. Most of the time, when we talk about death, it’s usually in the context of ageing – like losing a grandparent or an elderly relative. It’s less common to hear about people your age passing away. And when it does happen, you start pondering about many things – wondering if you could have done more as a friend, or even what the point of life really is.

In my personal experience, I lost 5 friends before I even turned 20. My feelings of grief peaked around this time last year, but now that I’ve had some distance from it, I thought I’d share my experience with losing friends and reflect on the lessons grief has taught me.

Trigger warning: This article contains details surrounding suicide, unnatural causes of death, and feelings of sadness.

Social interactions as an introvert & a shy kid

Image credit: Sean Sorjaji

Before getting into the context of these friendships, it’s probably important to share a bit about me first. I’ve always been the shy and timid type – the kind of person who rarely initiates a conversation and usually waits for someone to make the first move.

Because I don’t socialise as much as others, I tend to remember and appreciate, in very great detail, the people I have interacted with. Every now and then, I occasionally scroll through old chats from as far back as 2017, just to reminisce fondly about friendships that once meant a lot to me.

Losing friends to death

The 1st time I had to deal with grief, I was 12

The first friend I ever lost was a guy named Khai, who in many ways was like me, so we clicked almost instantly. We were in different classes, but went to the same mother tongue and religious classes. Although we weren’t super close, we’d chat every time we met, about PSLE, school, or just random topics that came to mind.

Around halfway through the year, my cohort suddenly received news that he had passed away in his sleep. Like everyone else, I was shocked, and many emotions flooded my mind. My first thought was that I’d just seen him not long before – at the classroom corridor – and he looked fine to me. When I went for religious class later, the atmosphere was heavy; many of our classmates were in tears, unable to process what had happened.

I didn’t cry, though. At that age, I thought it wasn’t something guys were supposed to do. But I remember feeling a bit empty and wasn’t sure how to process the news – no one really teaches you how to deal with something like that at 12, and we certainly didn’t learn that in school. What I was taught to do was to say a prayer for him and hope it brought him peace, wherever he was.

The next time I dealt with death, I was angry & shocked

Image credit: Heng Swee Keat via Facebook

Fast forward a couple of years, and I remember receiving news that another friend – a childhood friend I’d known since I was 7 – had passed away in a freak accident. A basketball stand in Bedok had fallen on him, leading to his demise. We weren’t very close buddies, but we’d known each other for years and used to play sports together during recess in what seemed like a lifetime ago. I still remember I’d bumped into him a few weeks before the incident – we’d said hi in passing, not knowing it’d be the last time.

This time, I wasn’t just sad that I’d lost another friend; I was also frustrated that something so random and preventable could take away someone so young. I couldn’t understand why it had to happen, or why it always seemed to be the good ones who went too soon.

The 3rd time I lost a friend, I lost her to suicide

Image credit: National Parks Board

Despite being already familiar with the concept of loss, it didn’t make the initial shock hit any less when my close friend suddenly broke the news to me that one of our mutual friends – someone I’d hung out with once or twice in a larger group – had committed suicide by drowning herself in Bedok Reservoir.

She went to the same secondary school as me, and I still remember our casual chats, which ranged from things like schoolwork to the latest update in Pixel Gun 3D. She had this warmth about her and was the kind of person who made conversations feel easy.

By this point, it just felt unbearably tragic – and honestly, unfair. All these people, gone so young, with so much life left ahead of them. It made me question a lot of things, and that’s when darker thoughts began creeping in. I started wondering if something similar could happen to me. The idea that life could just end without warning became a fear that lingered in the back of my mind for a long time.

The 4th time a friend left, he lost his battle with cancer

Around this time last year, I learnt that one of my closest friends from polytechnic had passed away from stage 4 cancer. Initially, the news did not even register with me – it just seemed so unbelievable, like my mind refused to accept that it had happened again. Even on the way to the funeral, a small part of me hoped it was just a sick prank.

His name was Yuan Sen, although most of us called him Yuan. I met him on the first day of poly orientation and thought he looked like an ah beng, so it took me some courage to go up and say hi. But once I did, the rest – as they say – was history.

It’s not every day that you get to go rock climbing or cubicle hopping with your classmate.
Image adapted from: Syahiran Sean

He was one of those people who could instantly lift the mood of any room. Easily one of the funniest guys I’ve ever met – always saying the most unhinged things that never failed to make everyone laugh.

When our classes got reshuffled in the 2nd semester, we both ended up in the same one. It was comforting to have a familiar face while everyone else was trying to make new friends. From then on, we pretty much became inseparable during school. For an entire semester, we hung out every day, to the point where people just assumed that if you saw one of us, the other wasn’t far behind.

Image credit: Syahiran Sean

Spending so much time together naturally made us good buddies. I still remember how, at the end of the year, he sent me a short “letter” thanking me for being his friend, and it really made my day. Even now, I still reread it from time to time whenever I think about him.

Although this was the 4th time I’d lost someone, this was the deepest level of sadness I’ve felt out of all. I remember standing over his coffin for around 10 minutes, still wishing in vain that he was just asleep and would suddenly wake up. But no matter how long I waited, that moment never came.

What still haunts me is the regret. After our classes split, I did not make much effort to keep in touch. I even had a chance to see him again at a mutual friend’s party, but I cancelled at the last minute because I was too sian after work. I still regret that decision – and probably always will.

I remember one of our classmates – someone who’d been in the same class as us – coming up to me with tears in her eyes, asking how I was holding up. For the first time, I couldn’t find the words to respond. My voice trembled, and before I knew it, my eyes started to water too.

For weeks after the funeral, I felt hollow and empty. The sadness lingered, and I found myself reflecting a lot on life, on friendship, and on how fragile everything really is.

The 5th time I had to grieve, my neighbour was gone

About a week later, I received a notification that my neighbour – someone I regularly played football with – had passed away from a heart attack after a futsal game. Beyond the pitch, I would often see him out with his kids, and we sometimes even commuted together from the same mosque. For a neighbour, we actually spent quite a bit of time together, which made his passing hit harder than I expected.

Where I played futsal with my neighbours.
Image credit: Harold via OnePA

I still vividly remember our futsal games, when he would praise my passing and shooting skills – it made me feel like the real deal, and those little moments made him stick in my memory even more. He was also a really nice person in general and sometimes offered me advice when I spoke to him about school and life.

Feelings I experienced after losing friends to death & how they affected me

Of course, death is inevitable, and what matters most is how we respond to it. Unfortunately for me, after losing so many friends, the weight of negative emotions began to build up.

Was it a paranormal experience, or was it a panic attack?

The first time I experienced something truly unsettling was the night after I returned home from Yuan’s funeral. It was late, and I was exhausted. I’d just fallen asleep, but woke up later that night to use the bathroom.

When I got back to my room, something felt off, and an uneasy heaviness filled the space. My stomach tightened, and my senses went on high alert. Suddenly, my heart started pounding furiously – I later learnt that this was something called heart palpitations – a common symptom of a panic attack, but at that moment, my knees buckled to the ground.

Image for illustrative purposes only.
Image credit: The Haunted World via Facebook

I also started hallucinating that night – I saw a bright light shimmering in front of me, followed by a thin fog that slowly revealed the blurred silhouettes of 4 tombstones. They looked eerily similar to the ones belonging to my late friends, and it felt as though they were motioning for me to come closer. My heart began pounding even harder and faster, until a sharp pain shot through my chest. Right then and there, I really thought that my time to die had come, and I closed my eyes for death to do its thing.

When I woke up, I was drenched in sweat and completely drained, as if I had just cheated death. The whole episode probably lasted just 10 minutes, although it felt like an eternity.

Until today, I’m still not too sure what happened. Was it really a paranormal experience, or the accumulation of everything crashing down all at once?

Cryptic dreams of friends who had passed

Ever since the first loss, I have occasionally dreamt of the friends who are no longer here. Most of the time, the dreams are fleeting – just a few seconds of them staring at me and me staring back, so I didn’t think much of it. I’ve always been the kind of person who remembers things vividly – even casual interactions – so maybe my mind was just replaying fragments of old memories.

But a month after the panic attack, I dreamt of Yuan for the first time, and that one still sticks with me. It felt too real to be just a dream, and it felt like his spirit was really talking to me. In the dream, I ran into him, and we spoke for what felt like forever. It felt like the good old days.

After a while, he said he had to go, and I remember saying, “Don’t leave, I miss you,” and he replied, “I must.” Then he embraced me in a bear hug, and I could feel the material of the black-and-white flannel shirt he used to wear, warm and fuzzy. The moment felt so real that I woke up teary and in a cold sweat again. It took me a while to accept that it was just a dream.

Image adapted from: Syahiran Sean

I later told his girlfriend about the dream, and she pointed out something that gave me chills – Yuan had left that exact same shirt at her house before he passed. He’d told her to keep it so that, whenever she missed him, it would feel like he was hugging her. Hearing that made me feel like it was his way of saying goodbye.

Feeling unmotivated in my day-to-day life

Image credit: Syahmi Sean

Ever since all these losses, there’s been a quiet heaviness that lingered in the background of my everyday life, which made me feel unmotivated. Some days, I wonder, “What is the point of me doing all this if I might just die soon anyway?” Other days, I wake up and wish I could just rot at home instead of working.

But other times, I remind myself how privileged I am to even be alive and that I should at least do something productive. Even when I lacked the motivation, that realisation pushed me to make the most of what I had.

Being excessively worried about whether I’d be next

Even though I tried to stay positive, the truth is, not all my thoughts were. Ever since my panic attack – and even going back to the first friend I lost when I was 12 – I’ve always wondered when it would be my turn to die.

It’s not that I want to die so soon, but after seeing so many young lives end so unexpectedly, it’s hard not to think about it. There were also times when I feared death might be knocking on another good friend or family member’s door.

Image for illustrative purposes only.
Image credit: Wikipedia

I think back to that panic attack sometimes, because it was one of the few instances where the thought of dying was not just an afterthought, but a possibility I considered in real time.

Another moment like that happened just a couple of months ago, when I was queuing up to buy breakfast. Out of nowhere, I tasted this metallic flavour in my mouth. It took me a second to realise that my nose had started bleeding. My mind went straight to the worst-case scenario – I’d get it checked, and the doctor would tell me that I have underlying nose cancer. For me, that didn’t feel too far-fetched at all.

In reality, however, my nasal blood vessels had burst, which sounds scary but is actually a common experience if you’re having a cold in Singapore’s intense heat.

I remember being a bit paranoid afterwards that I ended up working from home for almost an entire month straight. I was so worried that my nose would suddenly start bleeding more profusely this time, leading to me possibly losing consciousness in the office, so I felt like it was better for that to happen in the solace of my own room.

Steps I’m taking after losing friends to death

Putting more effort into maintaining or building friendships

Image adapted from: Syahiran Sean

All these experiences and feelings have made me value my friends in a way I never did before. I’ve always been a homebody, perfectly happy staying in, playing games, or doomscrolling social media. But now, I find myself uncharacteristically initiating catch-ups with my friends, including those I haven’t spoken to in a while.

Image adapted from: Syahiran Sean

For instance, I’ve never been a big fan of the gym – I’m more of a runner than a lifter – but some of my friends are really into it, so I use that as an excuse to hang out and catch up with them. Surprisingly, I ended up genuinely enjoying hitting the gym with them and stepping out of my comfort zone in a place that is every introvert’s nightmare.

Opening up about my thoughts & feelings

It’s okay for a guy to open up about their feelings, even if it’s behind a screen.
Image credit: Syahiran Sean

I also find that the best way to deal with grief is to talk to someone about it. Coincidentally, a colleague went through a similar experience around the same time as me, and speaking to her lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.

Looking back, I think the reason why I shut out my feelings for so long was that I had an image in my head that guys shouldn’t be emotional and must be strong all the time.

Opening up about it made me realise that I had kept these negative feelings and thoughts bottled inside for so long, letting them fester and snowball.

Knowing that someone else was going through something similar brought a sense of relief. It reminded me that grief, as isolating as it feels, isn’t something you have to face completely alone.

Losing friends is never easy

Losing my friends was heartbreaking, and there’s really no getting used to it. But it has also taught me a lesson that many young people seem to understand in theory, but often forget in practice: life is short, and it’s up to us to make it count. It is better to have lived a short but purposeful life than to live a long but meaningless one.

For more perspectives on grief, check out:

• Losing my father to cancer
• Losing both parents by the age of 20
• Attending my dad’s funeral over livestream

Cover image adapted from: Syahiran Sean, Heng Swee Keat via Facebook

The post I Lost 5 Friends Before The Age Of 20 & This Is What Grief Has Taught Me About Life & Friendships appeared first on TheSmartLocal - Singapore's Leading Travel and Lifestyle Portal.