How third spaces are bringing back the lost kampung spirit in Singapore

As our lives grow more digital and dispersed, third spaces are quietly bringing us back together. Neither home nor work, these in-between places offer connection without pressure. They provide routine, belonging, and moments of shared humanity.

From street libraries and mediation studios to conversations with strangers, these growing networks of third spaces in Singapore are helping people feel seen, supported, and like part of something bigger.

Keeping the kampung spirit alive

It is a charming, community-led street library nestled in the heart of Holland Village, lovingly built and maintained by residents. More than just a book exchange, it fosters neighbourliness and connection, offering a quiet antidote to the growing loneliness epidemic.

One dark and stormy night, 70-year-old Wong Kae Chee was jolted out of bed by the sound of rain lashing against her windows.

Together with her neighbour, Amrys Wang, she rushed to the void deck of Block 2 Holland Avenue to cover bookshelves and tables with trash bags and blankets, protecting some 10,000 books from the storm. The scene was all too familiar to the pair.

“Whenever we hear the thunder crack, we’ll run down with blankets and trash bags, and clip them onto the shelves with clothes pegs. There was one night when the storm was so bad, we literally had a shower inside the space,” says Amrys, also known as Yun, with wry amusement.

The 50-year-old is also the community’s cat caregiver and an animal advocate. Eventually, the two women pressed the Town Council to expedite their request for rattan blinds to protect the cosy void deck nook known as HV Little Library, a community library built from the ground up.

HV Little Library began in 2022, when Kae Chee, a music teacher, decided on a whim to share her collection of books with her neighbours – and what better way to do that than by setting up a mini bookshelf at the void deck?“I started with one shelf and my own books.

It was the middle of the night; I came down and put up a shelf. I thought, if [my books] are important to me, I should give them away. If not, they’re going to die with me. So I brought them down – all my signed books, tabletop books and recipe books.

“I wanted to build a kampung home,” says Kae Chee with a determined glint in her eyes. She has lived at Holland Avenue for over 30 years with her 45-year-old son, who has special needs. Kae Chee has three other children, all of whom live overseas.

Another reason, adds Kae Chee, was the sense of neighbourliness that she felt was missing after the pandemic.

“We didn’t know who died. We didn’t know who had Covid. We live in an urban place – we’re so near each other: one wall away, one floor away, one ceiling away.”

She’s not alone in her endeavour. Two months before starting HV Little Library, Kae Chee began bouncing ideas off Yun, who suggested creating a community library.

“I said, ‘I’ve always wanted a community library,’ and she went, ‘Oh yeah, me too. Why don’t we do it?’” shares Yun, who now helps manage the library’s social media accounts, including Facebook and Instagram.

“What you see today is probably a version 3-point-something of the library,” Yun laughs. “The original one was a mishmash of rescued shelves and donated stuff we found.”

An extension of home

Three years on, HV Little Library has grown from a few makeshift bookshelves into something more than just a community library.

With rattan couches, tables covered in red-checked tablecloths, white Ikea bookshelves lining the walls, and plants framing the makeshift entrance, it now feels almost like an extension of one’s living room.

Besides having an ever-growing collection of books to browse, there are regular Veggie Nights, impromptu potluck dinners, and singalong parties that bring residents of nearby blocks together. Word somehow got around that the library was open to food donations.

Someone linked Kae Chee with The Red Collective, a social enterprise that tackles food insecurity and food waste, and they began sending excess unsold vegetables at the end of each business day. Local agri-tech firm Green Phyto also donates its vegetables regularly.

And so, in December 2024, Yun and Kae Chee launched Veggie Nights – much to the delight of the seniors at Holland Avenue. Many would gather at the library more than an hour before the event, chatting as they waited for the free vegetables.

Veggie Nights – which usually takes place every Tuesday – grew out of their earlier “makan sessions” with the aunties cooking, says Yun. She adds: “I love the idea of a community kitchen. We don’t have the resources to set one up, but we thought it’d be nice to start something similar – especially since we have so many seniors here.

“We might seem like an affluent neighbourhood, but what many don’t realise is that we’re actually a mature estate with seniors who are first-generation homeowners. Their children may have married and moved away, leaving their parents behind. We realised we needed to bring them in and support them, so they don’t feel so lonely.”

Other senior residents would volunteer to help with the set-up and distribution of the produce. Joyce Lee, a 70-year-old retiree, helps out at the library every Tuesday – so much so that she’s told her family those days are sacred.

“I have a daughter and son who always need my help, even though they have helpers. So I told them, ‘I need my space, my time,’” shares the former F&B business owner, who lives in the same block.

Bring the community together

Aside from protecting the space from torrential rain, Kae Chee shares that the challenges of maintaining HV Little Library include environmental factors like rats.

Still, amid the challenges, what continues to move Kae Chee most is the generosity and support from those one might least expect. “I was moved that the majority of the donations [to sustain HV Little Library] came from foreign workers,” says Kae Chee.

Adds Yun: “When our Bangladeshi workers see a piece of discarded furniture, one of them would say, ‘Sister, I got this for you!’ He would bring it here all the way from another block in a different part of Holland Village.”

The rats, which used to nest in the crevices of the bookshelves, are now managed by Dewy, the area’s “chief feline security officer” – an abandoned cat who has made his home there since 2023. His overenthusiastic upkeep of the place has resulted in “murdered” lizards, birds, and even a baby chick, sighs Kae Chee, who has regular check-ins with the unremorseful feline.

Dewy is just one of the few quirky characters that have come out of the woodwork.

Another is “Mr Clocky,” nicknamed for the alleged clock thief’s obsession with the library’s timepieces, which were installed to help seniors keep track of time.

Over the years, five clocks have mysteriously vanished from the library, leading Yun and Kae Chee to suspect they were stolen. The current clock, also handmade and featuring a world map with a photo of Dewy as its hands, is now securely mounted on the wall above a bookshelf.

“When we talk about challenges, they’re actually opportunities for us to come together,” says Yun. “One resident bought a plastic box with a lock, another designed a new clock face to fit it, and someone else came by to help drill it into the wall. Even the batteries were donated. It truly was a labour of love.”

For Chris Ho, a 47-year-old teacher who moved to Holland Avenue three months ago, the library’s convivial atmosphere has become a daily highlight.

“Usually after work, I’ll come down to see what’s happening, and chat with people I know, or meet someone new. It really builds a sense of community. You start to understand each other’s needs and think about how you can contribute. If there’s a distribution event and I have time, I’ll help out.

“Over time, we’ve become like an extended family,” he says.

HV Little Library is open 24 hours at 2 Holland Avenue.

Where wellness meets connection

A wellness space on Neil Road offering yoga, sound baths, Ayurvedic food and community events, Ahimsa Sanctuary is a calming third space to recharge, connect and support mental well-being through mindful practices and community care.

Skyscrapers loom over a quaint yellow shophouse along Neil Road – a striking contrast to Ahimsa Sanctuary, a vegan cafe and yoga studio that feels more like a serene retreat in Bali than a spot in the heart of Singapore.

You won’t find the usual avo toast or yoga flow class here though. Owner Ayshwariya Shri, 27, founded Ahimsa Sanctuary to share the benefits of Ayurvedic practices. Instead, she offers wholesome indulgence – think bagel sandwiches with scrambled tofu, tempeh, and cheese, lion’s mane mushroom burgers, and fruit-packed acai bowls.

Meditation, yoga and sound bath classes focused on mindfulness and yogic philosophy are held on the second level – a fitting complement to Ahimsa, named after the ancient Indian principle of non-violence.

Alongside a refreshed menu, Ahimsa Sanctuary hosts community gatherings such as Sunday Sound – intimate acoustic sessions held most Sundays in the yoga studio, curated by yoga instructor and musician Liu Lo. There’s also an upcoming women’s gathering focused on rest, connection, breathwork, and simply holding space for women to be. Ayurvedic-inspired cooking classes and retreats are also in the pipeline.

Growing up, Asyshwariya didn’t think much of the herbal concoctions her mother prepared. Turmeric drinks were a regular fixture, and whenever she fell sick, she’d drink a brew made with neem leaves. Moringa found its way into most meals, along with a host of other spices.

“Yoga and the use of Ayurvedic spices and home remedies in our food have been ingrained in me since young – it’s always been part of my family,” says Ayshwariya.

Her parents also enrolled her in yoga classes at a Hindu temple during her childhood. She adds: “My parents were devout Hindus, so they shared a lot of theories and brought the belief to us.”

But it was during junior college – while “going through emotional stuff with studies and everything” – that Ayshwariya developed a deeper interest in her culture.

“I was trying to find answers, you know? I’m very science-minded – my brain is fixed on ‘how does something work, why does it work?’ – so I started researching theories, philosophies, even religion, trying to find my footing in all this and where I fit into it,” she shares.

As she delved deeper into Ayurveda, she began to see it all differently. The herbs, the spices, the way her home was arranged around natural elements – were all rooted in centuries-old healing practices, designed to balance the body’s doshas (energies believed to govern the body and mind) and restore well-being.

“What I started to realise was that many things my parents told me to do were actually Ayurvedic practices backed by science. That made my brain go, ‘Okay, this makes sense to me. This is something I can follow,’” says Ayshwariya.

Holding space for those who need it

Ayshwariya began cooking Ayurvedic meals for her friends, though she admits the food wasn’t well received at first.

“I thought about how I could package it better for my friends, even for myself – I’m a huge foodie,” she says. She started experimenting with tacos and sandwiches, using the same principles and ingredients, but reinventing them. “It was just for fun.”

Ayshwariya incorporates popular Ayurvedic herbs like turmeric and ashwagandha into her food and drinks for their health benefits. She also offers allium-free options without onion or garlic, as these ingredients are believed in Ayurveda to disrupt the body and mind’s balance. Even skipping them for one meal a day, she says, can help promote a greater sense of calm.

During this time, Ayshwariya was enrolled in an online Ayurveda course from a university in Utah while juggling various part-time jobs, still uncertain about her path. But when Covid-19 hit, it drove home the connection between healthy food and mental well-being.

Propelled by a sense of “now or never,” Ayshwariya began searching for a shop unit and eventually connected with a representative from the National University Hospital (NUH).

She set up shop on hospital grounds at Kent Ridge in 2021, bringing together all the ideas she had been experimenting with: Ayurvedic food, mindfulness, and holding space for anyone who passed through. The focus was on nourishing green bowls, but the space was more than just a cafe.

“It was a safe space for everyone,” she says. “You didn’t have to buy anything. If someone just wanted to sit or chat, we were there.” Ayshwariya adds: “Mental health was always something very important to me because I saw how it destroyed the people around me, and how ignoring it could really affect others.

“I’m a very introverted person, so I wanted to find a way to reach people without just relying on my personality. People would say, ‘Just go talk to them,’ but that wasn’t always available to me.”

When her contract with NUH ended, Ayshwariya began searching for a space where Ahimsa could grow into what she envisioned as an “all-rounded well-being hub.”

It wasn’t just about offering yoga classes – it was about shifting mindsets. “The yoga we do isn’t your typical flow class,” she explains.

“It’s much more focused on mindfulness, which might not appeal to everyone at first. So a big part of the work is simply bringing it to people and saying, ‘Maybe this is something you didn’t know you needed. Just try it once – see if it resonates.’”

More food for the soul

In 2024, Ayshwariya moved into her current space on Neil Road near the CBD, which has an airy outdoor space and sunlight streaming in from the roof.

“We wanted to make sure there was enough sunlight, because we know how much that affects someone’s mood and the vibe of the space. The second level is nice – we built a small, intimate yoga studio. It really fell into place and aligned with what we were looking for.”

Ayurvedic philosophy guided Ayshwariya as she designed her new space. She intentionally incorporated the five elements: using flowers where possible, adding water features, lighting candles for fire and illumination, and decorating with plants to represent the earth element. There are also corners for journalling and self-meditation outside the studio.

“One thing I always wondered about when growing up was why my mum would wake up at 5am, clean the space, light a lamp, and place water with flowers,” she says.

“After learning more and understanding from her how it helps her mind and the energy of the house – the cleansing energy – I definitely applied that here too. I try to be the first person here to clean up and do the same things.”

Looking ahead, Ayshwariya hopes to normalise Ayurvedic practices in everyday life – and to show that leading a healthy lifestyle doesn’t have to mean going on a diet.

“It’s about what you put into your body, what you put into your mind, the knowledge you absorb, how you talk to yourself, and how you talk to others.

“At the end of the day, it’s about feeling connected – with yourself and your community. Finding that connection through different teachings and bringing it full circle,” she says.

Follow Ahimsa Sanctuary (@ahimsacommunity) for updates on events and workshops.

Building bonds with community cats

A student-run initiative that cares for campus cats at the National University of Singapore fosters shared community ties, offering a gentle counter to the disheartening rise in cat abuse cases in Singapore.

The verdant, sprawling campus of the National University of Singapore (NUS) at Kent Ridge may draw busloads of tourists curious about everyday university life in Singapore – but what many don’t realise is that it’s also home to 12 community cats, lovingly cared for by both students and staff.

They are volunteers with NUS Cat Cafe, a student-run initiative that began in 2009. Despite its name, NUS Cat Cafe isn’t a typical cat cafe with lounging felines and matcha lattes. Instead, it’s a community of student volunteers who care for campus cats – feeding them and monitoring their well-being.

One of them is Associate Professor Wilson Tam, deputy head of research at the Alice Lee Centre for Nursing Studies, Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine, who is also an active volunteer and cat caregiver.

He was walking his dog on campus one day during the pandemic when he realised that, with the university closed and lectures held online, it had become difficult for students to care for the cats. Since he lives on campus, he decided to step in and help with feeding the felines, and has been volunteering ever since.

Prof Tam isn’t the only pet owner who devotes time to caring for the community cats. Kelvin Ho, a 22-year-old Economics student and head of events at NUS Cat Cafe, looks after Toothless, a chubby black cat that lives near his hostel.

“We feed them twice a day, every day,” says Kelvin, who also keeps pet rabbits. “I used to feed community cats, and I like cats, so I feel naturally drawn to this work.”

Kelvin oversees fundraisers, awareness campaigns, and interactive sessions where students can spend time with the campus cats.

“These events aren’t just for fun,” he explains. “They’re also a meaningful way for students and staff to destress, while learning more about the lives and challenges of community cats in Singapore.”

Creating a compassionate environment

A typical day involves heading to the assigned feeding zones at various parts of the campus, ensuring that the cats are fed, have clean feeding spots and are accounted for. There are clear signs that the cats are well loved. Near their usual hangouts, signages display their names, weights, and reminders not to overfeed them.

Caring for the cats goes beyond daily feeding – it also includes rehabilitation. One such case is Fred, a six-year-old ginger feline who was badly injured in an accident. He suffered trauma to his front limbs, mouth and tongue, along with abrasions on his jaw and chest.

“He had just undergone surgery to stabilise a broken leg, and a metal rod had been inserted into the bone,” recalls Kendra Yap, 21, who leads the group’s cat welfare management duties. “However, when we brought him back from the emergency hospital to his foster home, he was completely frantic. It was honestly heartbreaking and terrifying.”

Unsure of what to do, Kendra placed Fred gently on her lap. “Everything changed. He immediately relaxed and was back to his normal self. It was like he just needed physical closeness and reassurance. That moment reminded me why we do what we do. It’s not always easy, but it’s truly worth it.”

The campus cats have become a comforting presence for many NUS students, who find joy in their everyday encounters with the felines. But for the volunteers at NUS Cat Cafe, caring for these cats has grown into something far deeper than an extracurricular activity.

“It’s not a loud or conspicuous kind of community, but one that feels steady, familiar, and comforting,” says the group. “In a busy, often overwhelming campus like NUS, that kind of third space means a lot.”

Find out how you can contribute to NUS Cat Cafe’s cat welfare initiatives via Instagram (@nus_catcafe).

Helping seniors thrive

Carer’s activity centre in Tampines creates a joyful and engaging space for seniors to stay active, connected, and supported through everyday activities and community events, while also shaping a more positive narrative of ageing in an ageing society.

At the corner of 7 Tampines Avenue stands a near-empty office building next to Kiew Sian King Temple. On the third floor of this otherwise unremarkable structure, a hub of activity is quietly buzzing.

Laughter breaks out in the kitchen and dining area, decked in blue-and-white mosaic and Peranakan-inspired tiles to resemble an old-school kopitiam. Chua Poh Len, 87, affectionately known as “Purple” for her violet-tinged hair, joins husband-and-wife duo Peck Tiong Kiat, 86, and Tng Sai Kiow, 83, in an intense card game.

“We get to interact with each other and have some fun. It’s not bad here,” says Sai Kiow matter-of-factly, pausing mid-game. “There’s nothing much to do at home. It’s not good to watch TV all the time, your mind deteriorates.”

The trio share that it was their children who suggested Carer’s activity club as a way to stay active while they were at work – many of them had come across the centre on Instagram or Tiktok. The seniors now visit three times a week, taking part in group exercises, craft-making sessions or outdoor excursions.

Elsewhere, other seniors – ranging in age from 75 to 86 – are focused on playing mahjong, tidying up the space, or pottering around the kitchen.

Founder Sherlyn Chen launched Carer in 2018 as an app to help caregivers manage medical appointments and care, as well as book home care or medical escort services.

“However, while caring for hundreds of seniors at home, I saw first-hand how disengaged and lonely they could be. Most spent their days passively watching TV or videos on their phones, or simply sleeping,” says the former public relations professional, who made a career switch to start a medical escort service.

“Traditional day care centres also felt monotonous, and many seniors weren’t actively engaged in activities that interested them.”

What sets Carer apart from many other elderly day care centres is that seniors are empowered to run the centre themselves, with support from Sherlyn and her team. As a caregiver herself, the 37-year-old understands the challenges of helping seniors find meaning and purpose in the later stages of life.

“In 2023, we launched our first activity club in Tampines, offering more than just day care for seniors who need support and supervision during the day. We give them the dignity to be themselves, thoughtfully curate activities that spark joy and interest, and nurture a close-knit community built on meaningful relationships,” she shares.

They’re just like family

Carer’s location at 7 Tampines Avenue may seem unusual – tucked at a dead end alongside Chinese temples and even a neighbouring columbarium – but it turned out to be ideal. The space was reasonably priced and wheelchair accessible, a key consideration for an independently run initiative that operates without government funding.

The location is not a deterrence for these seniors, as transportation is provided. Day care rates cost $35 per day for independent seniors, with higher-dependency care priced from $75 per day. The fees include the cost of meals and drinks, and transport costs are added on if required. Monthly packages are available for unlimited weekday access.

“This place functions like a daycare. We pick up the seniors in the morning, and send them home in the evening. In terms of activities, we are very family focused. Because we know each of their interests, habits and capabilities, we tailor activities that cater to each individual,” says Sherlyn.

About 15 seniors attend the activity centre regularly. To help fund its activities, they create handmade gifts – like colourful felt flowers or stained glass lamps – which are sold at booths or online at Handmadegifts.store. These gifts have been so popular during occasions like Mother’s Day that the crafts have a pre-order waiting list.

“It’s more than just social interaction. We want to give them a sense of purpose; something to look forward to,” explains Sherlyn. “For example, with crafts, they know the items that they make are being sold to help fund the space. So when they come, they ask, ‘What can I do today?’ It’s a shift in mindset, from being served to contributing.”

The proceeds from these sales allow seniors like Betty Sheriff, 81, a former nurse and telemarketer, to enjoy an independent daily routine, whether it’s helping to cook meals in the kitchen or taking on everyday household chores at the centre.

“It’s like a homestay where everyone feels like family. I have a very good ‘boss’ here who is very generous with the food,” jokes Betty, smiling at Sherlyn. “We have fun outings where we go out every once in a while, and we’ve been to places that some seniors have not been to before, such as the Changi Experience Studio at Jewel Changi Airport.”

The only thing Betty wishes for is a private space with an outdoor garden, she says amid the sound of chatter and mahjong tiles clacking behind her. “It’s not cheap – we’re not government-aided, and frankly speaking, Sherlyn isn’t making any money from running the activity centre.”

A happy place for seniors

Like Betty, many of the seniors have a soft spot for Sherlyn. Purple, who has been with the centre for nearly a year and once juggled various menial jobs to raise her five children, is especially touched by Sherlyn’s dedication to keeping the centre going.

“We dote on her because she’s the best. Without her, we old folks have nowhere to go. I don’t feel like I fit in at other daycare centres, but when I’m here, I don’t want to leave. This place is the best,” she says.

Sherlyn adds: “The most fulfilling part of this journey is seeing the happiness in our seniors – and knowing they genuinely look forward to the activities we plan for them.”

The biggest challenge, Sherlyn shares, is financial sustainability. She’s committed to keeping prices low so that families don’t feel the centre is significantly more expensive than government-subsidised daycare. “If the gap is too wide, they’ll be deterred,” she explains.

She hopes to welcome a few more seniors to the activity club, and once membership grows, Sherlyn is considering opening additional branches in other parts of Singapore, especially as she’s received requests from the West and North.

“For someone as young as Sherlyn to be this successful – it’s really impressive,” quips Purple. “We must support her. She’s not even married yet, and look at what she’s built.”

“I’m just an old spinster,” Sherlyn laughs.

“No lah!” Purple exclaims, playfully slapping Sherlyn’s arm. “You’re a strong career woman!”

Follow their adventures at @carer_official. To find out more, visit carer.com.sg.

Bringing strangers together

Stranger Conversations is a Singapore-based community initiative that brings strangers together for open, meaningful dialogue through casual meet-ups, talks and workshops – creating space for connection in an increasingly disconnected world.

Over the past year, intrepid visitors to 195 Pearl’s Hill Terrace have walked away inspired by the fireside sessions on the second floor.

Stranger Conversations, which sprung from a desire to explore a life less trodden, is the brainchild of Ang Jin Shuan. Like many who find their way to the space, the 46-year-old – who had worked at various start-ups and multinational corporations in the tech industry – found himself at a crossroads.

It all began with a simple, lingering question: “What else is there?”

“When I started, it wasn’t meant to be a community at all. It was just a personal experiment – a way to answer a question I’d been sitting with: Is it possible to do something a little unconventional?

“I’d already worked in all kinds of places, and across different types of organisations. The only thing left was to try something that existed outside the boundaries of typical employment. And because no one in my circles – whether friends, family, colleagues or schoolmates – really vibed with me on this, I had to go looking for strangers,” says Jin Shuan.

Alongside his day job, he began hosting occasional events out of a shophouse in Geylang.“I’d run one session, then another a couple of months later, and just post them online,” he recalls. Soon, an increasing number of participants would attend these sessions, which were social gatherings for people to share stories and ideas.

“I remember one of the events we did after Covid restrictions had eased. We were on the lawn in front of Victoria Concert Hall, with over 30 people in attendance. The main event was a fireside chat with someone who had stepped off the default path.

“It ended around 8pm, but people stayed until 11pm – just talking about deep things. Questions like, ‘Why do you feel stuck?’ The kinds of conversations you don’t usually get the chance to have,” he says.

He points out how even something like taking a career break often gets viewed through a narrow lens.

“A lot of folks go on a break, and immediately people ask, ‘What are you doing?’ There’s this expectation that you should be productive, picking up something new. Even if people don’t mean it that way, it still comes across as that. That’s the societal narrative. It’s the unconscious bias we all carry.”

Making room for all

In 2023, Jin Shuan decided to take a career sabbatical and focus on running Stranger Conversations, not knowing how it might develop further. While he noticed that “people liked listening to these interesting stories”, he had personal doubts.

“There was always this voice in my head: ‘Why am I doing this? Is it worth continuing? ‘Can I make money from this?’”

That’s why having a permanent location at 195 Pearl’s Hill Terrace was important, as it allows Jin Shuan to expand on the potential of Stranger Conversations. The space reflects the grassroots ethos of Stranger Conversations, with carpets and throw pillows covering the floors and upcycled decor adding a warm, lived-in feel.Stranger Conversations was a natural fit for the community at Pearl’s Hill Terrace, a creative enclave home to start-ups, artists and lifestyle businesses.

The events draw a diverse crowd, and often, those attendees bring along the other communities they’re part of, says Jin Shuan.

“And because we’re so nebulous – we do have a core ethos, but we’re not just a book club or a Google group – we have flexibility,” he explains. “That ‘lack of clarity’ actually gives us room to welcome many different kinds of people.”

The space now hosts a wide variety of events, from casual socials and potluck parties to panel discussions, group therapy sessions, workshops, film screenings and charity fundraisers. Topics range from taking a career break or learning how to DJ, to tracing ancestral roots in China.

Says Jin Shuan: “We’ve done improv nights, dinner parties, playback theatre and live music. There’s so much room to try things out. We say this space is like the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter – it transforms to suit whatever people need.”

Oh Shu Huang, 43, who is currently on a career break, organises the fortnightly Out of Office meet-ups and helps maintain the space. He is drawn to its authenticity.

“What I love most is how literal the space is. It’s a public living room where things happen to help people connect – whatever that means to each person. It doesn’t try to be something it’s not,” he says.

Watch this space

Stranger Conversations has seen steady growth in sign-ups for its events and programmes, with its Instagram following now at 11.3K. For Jin Shuan, the focus now is not just on maintaining a physical space, but on defining what the community truly is, how to communicate its purpose, and how to design meaningful learning experiences that bring it to life.

One example is Stranger Gatherings, a three-month programme now in its second run with 35 participants. Launched last month, it’s something Jin Shuan says is taking up a significant amount of his time.

“And it’s no joke – we have 25 events lined up, 35 participants, 25 guest hosts – people with lived experience doing something unconventional in their pursuit of a purposeful life – and around 20 facilitators. That’s about 75 people involved in this run.”

Participants pay $1,500 for the full programme, which helps cover the costs of running the space. Keeping it open costs Jin Shuan and his team of about 25 volunteers and space minders roughly $50,000 a year – a figure largely funded through a mix of crowdfunding, donations and event ticket sales.

He manages with the help of his team of 25, which includes volunteers from a group called “space minders”, who take turns on a roster to open the space and welcome visitors.

Jin Shuan is currently working on Stranger Magazine, a print publication he envisions as a “slow, deep read” – each issue centred around a single topic explored in depth.

He’s also looking beyond Singapore, with plans to take Stranger Conversations overseas through retreats and collaborations with communities in other countries.

“We’re doing our first retreat in November – it’s already in motion,” he says, referring to a meditation retreat in partnership with Feels Like Om Travel, which specialises in mindfulness retreats in Sikkim, India.

“We might visit homes, talk to artisans and tradespeople, spend time in monasteries, and meet NGO leaders. It’s not just about travel – it’s about engaging with people, learning about the challenges they face, and the good they’re doing. It’s a journey you take alongside 30 or 40 other people, people also in a period of transition or curiosity.

“And how cool is that, to find these people?” he says, smiling.

Stay updated on events via Instagram (@strangerconvos).

PHOTOGRAPHY Lawrence Teo & Athirah Annissa
ART DIRECTION Adeline Eng & Ray Ticsay
COORDINATION Chelsia Tan