#42Tokyo Reflections on Being a Life Saver at the Piscine

What is 42Tokyo?

42 originated in France. It is a tuition-free programming education institution that operates 24/7 with no teachers and focuses on project-based and peer-to-peer learning.

42Tokyo is the Tokyo campus of the 42 network.

What is “42”?

The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series

What is the Piscine?

“Piscine” is French for “swimming pool.” The name comes from the idea of throwing people who can’t swim into the pool to see who can learn to swim by struggling not to drown.

It’s the name of the entrance exam for 42.

What is a Life Saver?

Life Saver is a volunteer team of students who contribute to 42Tokyo in various ways, supporting Piscine candidates and staff.

From my perspective, a Life Saver is someone who helps candidates figure out whether to ask staff or a nearby peer when they encounter a problem.
As a Life Saver, you are explicitly instructed not to answer any questions that could reasonably be answered by asking a fellow candidate.


I kind of regret not writing down my thoughts during my own Piscine experience because, as time passes, memories and emotions fade. Recently, I saw someone online sharing daily reflections from their Piscine—amazing!
I’ve tried keeping a journal before (those entries are still hidden somewhere on my website lol), and my longest streak was 46 days. But eventually, I stopped.
It’s not that I didn’t know what to write; the hardest part was turning thoughts into words. It takes time to organize your thoughts and weave them into sentences. What you read in one minute may have taken me an hour to write.
Having tried it myself, I truly understand how hard it is, and I deeply admire those who managed to journal every day during Piscine.

Looking back at my old entries, I can still feel the emotions I had at the time. Wow, I really thought that way back then! Even if it was mostly just boring daily stuff, it still feels meaningful.

In Episode 9 of the anime “The World According to the Movement of the Earth”, there’s a line about writing that struck me:

“Words… they’re practically a miracle.
As long as you can use words, you can transcend time and space.
You can cry over a message from 200 years ago or laugh at a legend from 1,000 years ago. Can you believe that?
Our lives are trapped in this era; we can’t escape it.
But only when we read words can we hear voices from the past speaking to us.
In that moment, it’s as if we’ve broken free from this era.
Thoughts written down live on forever and can even inspire someone in the future.
Isn’t that just… like a miracle?”

I’m not some great person with profound messages to share, but through writing, I can communicate with my past self from months or even years ago.
Words… really are a miracle, aren’t they?

Even though I didn’t write reflections during Piscine, now feels like a good time!
Ultimately, any time is the right time to start something. If you want to do it, do it. If you want to write, start writing. It’s never too late.


The reason I wanted to become a Life Saver is that I received so much help during my own journey. I’ve been at 42 for over a year now, so maybe I can give back.
I had this thought even earlier, but I always felt like I wasn’t good enough—not in terms of technical skill, but because Life Savers represent 42 to the candidates. I didn’t feel like a good role model.

Am I a role model now? Do I have any outstanding achievements or flashy experiences?
No. I’m still just an ordinary person. But I love 42’s philosophy and system, and I want to contribute to it and share that vision with others.
Ironically, I feel like I’ve received more help than I’ve given—so thank you to all the staff and teammates!


Some memorable moments:
As a Life Saver, you generally don’t answer project-related questions. That means you might get complaints like:

“Hey, why didn’t I get the expected result? Your computers must be broken.”
“Why won’t you help me solve this problem? Do you even know how?”
“Why aren’t the tasks clearly written? What does this even mean?”
“Why did the grading system fail me? I’m sure I’m correct—it must be a bug!”

I’ve even met a few people with bad tempers or poor attitudes.
To be honest, I had those same doubts when I was a candidate, so I don’t think these are unreasonable questions.
Asking questions is good. Computers do break sometimes. But getting angry or lashing out? That’s unnecessary.


One vivid memory from my own Piscine experience:
I had studied Japanese for three months with a tutor, self-studied for another three months, and then spent three months in language school before joining Piscine.
Even so, my Japanese was weak, and my English was poor.

During a review, I was paired with a tall, muscular classmate with a serious expression. He spoke Japanese very fast, and I struggled to keep up.
When he saw I wasn’t responding, he switched to fluent English—but I still couldn’t follow.
He started losing patience and eventually snapped:

“You don’t speak Japanese, and you don’t speak English. What are you even doing here?”

Honestly, I didn’t know either.

Even though English is taught from kindergarten in Taiwan, I never kept up with the lessons.
People often say, “Taiwanese people are good at English,” and maybe that’s true—everyone around me seemed good at it. But me? I’ve always been bad at languages. Maybe I’m just not smart enough. I never imagined living abroad.

But life took a turn: my husband got a job at a Japanese company, so we moved to Japan.
Then he discovered 42Tokyo and suggested I join Piscine:

“It’s free. You have nothing to lose. Why not try?”

And that’s how I ended up there.
We’d already spent over a year without working, burning through our savings on moving costs, furniture, and living expenses.
42 was free, a chance to make friends, and an opportunity to learn programming. Perfect.

When that classmate said those words, I felt crushed and guilty for causing trouble.
Later, near the end of Piscine, I was paired with him again for another review. I was terrified—my Japanese hadn’t magically improved. But surprisingly, he was much more patient and even smiled more.
I don’t know what changed, but it wasn’t me.
(For the record, he passed Piscine. He’s really talented.)


Now, as a Life Saver, I’ve learned this:
Anger solves nothing. If I can’t answer a question, I won’t answer it just because someone is mad.
If it’s a hardware issue, we’ll swap the machine—no need to rage.
If it’s a user error, slamming the keyboard won’t help.
Thankfully, some candidates improved their attitude later on. I don’t remember their names, but I hope they passed.


About “unclear requirements”:
Maybe because I’ve worked before, and bosses often give vague instructions (sometimes because they don’t even know what they want), I accepted this easily.
Piscine tasks are graded by machine, which feels brutally black-and-white. I both hate and love that system.

There are two kinds of “unclear”: either it’s written but you don’t understand, or it’s simply not written.
Whichever the case, what do you think? What will you do next? That’s what matters.


Speaking of unclear instructions:
Recently, I made a simple prime factorization game. At first, I only wrote “Prime Factorization” as the title—no explanation. The interface was simple, so I thought people would get it. But many didn’t:

“What’s a prime factor?”
“Why isn’t there any explanation?”

When it’s just one person, you can ignore it. But multiple people said the same thing, so I added instructions.
I thought this was elementary-level knowledge… but maybe not.
(If you asked me elementary-level English questions, I’d probably fail too.)

(The game is here: game.allie.tw)


One core concept in Piscine is recursion.
When I first saw it: “Wow, this is amazing!”
Just a few lines of code, but so elegant.
There’s a saying:

“To iterate is human, to recurse divine.”
Anything recursion can do, loops can also do—so why learn it?
I think it’s less about syntax and more about learning a way of thinking.

Speaking of loops, Piscine only allows while loops—no for.
If you’ve coded before, for loops probably come to mind first. Compared to for, while is simpler and more primitive.
And not just loops: Piscine only allows write, not printf.
Why learn an old language like C instead of trendy ones like Python or Java?

It reminds me of Demon Slayer.
The original breathing technique is the Sun Breathing style, from which all other techniques derive—just like modern languages stem from C.
C is powerful and efficient but requires mastery of pointers and memory—like Sun Breathing requiring special talent.
C gave rise to C++, Objective-C, C#, and influenced Java, Go, Rust, JavaScript.
(And yes, the analogy is very nerdy. Please don’t take it too seriously!)
(If AI writes code for you without learning programming, is that like killing demons without knowing breathing techniques?)
(Isn’t the Demon Slayer entrance exam kind of like Piscine? Throw everyone into the pool and see who survives!)


This year, being a Life Saver felt very different from when I was a candidate—because of AI.
I read an article recently:

“We should treat AI like an instrument, not just a tool.
Tools aim for efficiency; instruments aim for expression.
Tools help you reach a goal; instruments let you enjoy the process.”
(https://alexhsu.com/zh/stand-out)

I like that perspective. It reminds me of Piscine:
It’s officially an entrance exam, but I think the point is not the final score—it’s enjoying the process.
More than passing, the real value is learning how to learn.
I’m sure candidates today will use AI to complete tasks. That’s fine—but do you understand how it works? Do you really understand what it’s saying?


From my experience as a candidate and now as a Life Saver, I think those who pass Piscine share some traits:

Not afraid of failure; reflective and adaptive
Piscine is designed to make you fail. Submissions often fail—but that’s okay. Each failure teaches you something: a detail you missed, a new idea from a peer review, or a chance to adjust your schedule.

Self-motivation and discipline
Piscine lasts four weeks. No teachers, no fixed schedule—you decide everything.
Cramming before a test doesn’t work here. You need steady effort, balanced with rest and good health.

Stress tolerance and emotional stability
Four weeks may sound long, but it’s intense: weekly exams, weekend group projects, peer reviews.
Who you review, who reviews you, how long it takes—you don’t know.
It feels free, but it’s tightly packed. Simple rules, yet full of uncertainty.
You need to stay calm under pressure, avoid panic, and keep moving forward.

Of course, passion for coding, social skills, and learning ability help too.


This is just my personal view, not an official 42 standard.
Failing Piscine doesn’t mean you lack ability—it just means you didn’t pass this time.
It’s a two-way test: 42 evaluates you, and you evaluate whether this lifestyle suits you.

Whatever the result, I hope every candidate enjoys the experience.
Everyone who joins Piscine has one trait in common: the courage to challenge themselves.
That alone deserves applause. You’re amazing.

Finally, thank you to the 42Tokyo staff for this opportunity and to my fellow Life Savers for the support. Having teammates made me feel safe.
(I always felt confused during meetings, but when I heard others say “特にないです,” I felt relieved! lol)
And yes, I looked forward to meal times every week—free food tastes the best! haha

お疲れ様でした。

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