At first, I thought this would be much simpler.
We already had photography studios in Taiwan. We had lighting, sets, event experience, and a customer base that had followed us for years. So I assumed that if I prepared a proper company deck and sent it to Japanese photo session companies or talent agencies, there should at least be a chance to start a conversation.
Looking back now, I do not think that idea was completely wrong.
But it was still too much from my side of the table.
At the time, I was already in Japan. The first half year was mostly about settling into daily life, work, and a new environment. After things became more stable, I finally started working on something I had wanted to try for a long time: creating a real connection between the photography entertainment industries in Taiwan and Japan.
This idea had been with me for years.
When I was in university, I became interested in Japanese culture through J-POP, anime, manga, and cosplay. Later, because I continued working in the photography entertainment industry, I naturally began to think about whether there could be a way to connect both sides.
Not just as a personal interest.
I wanted to make it into an actual project.
I wanted Japanese agencies to see the Taiwanese market, and I wanted Taiwanese participants to have a chance to meet Japanese models, cosplayers, or creators they usually could not meet in Taiwan.
That was the idea.
But having an idea and making it happen are two completely different things.
The Starting Point: Having the Ability Does Not Mean People Will Trust You
My first approach was very basic.
I looked for a few Japanese companies and agencies related to photo sessions, prepared a cooperation deck, and sent it to their business inquiry emails.
After sending the emails, I gave myself two weeks to observe the result.
In Japanese business communication, replies usually do not take too long. And since this was a proposal from an overseas company, I assumed they might need some time to discuss it internally. So two weeks felt reasonable.
The result was simple.
No reply at all.
Not a rejection.
Not a polite message saying the timing was not right.
Just silence.
That was when I quickly realized this method probably would not work.
In the past, I might have thought that if the information was complete enough, people would read it and consider it. But in cross-border business, complete information is only the starting point. The real issue is that the other side does not know who you are.
From a Japanese agency’s point of view, a Taiwanese company suddenly sends an email saying it has studios, event experience, and the ability to host overseas photo sessions.
Even if the deck looks fine, there are still too many questions.
Is this company real?
What does a photography event in Taiwan actually look like?
Will the participants follow the rules?
If something goes wrong, who handles it?
Can visas, taxes, event control, and local arrangements really be managed properly?
A slide deck cannot answer all of that.
My first setback was not that we lacked ability.
It was that I had not solved the issue of trust.
The First Change: If Emails Do Not Work, Go to the Actual Scene
After getting no replies, I did not continue sending more emails.
If the first few emails have no reaction at all, the issue is usually not that the list is too small. More often, the approach itself is wrong.
So I changed direction.
I started attending local photography events in Japan.
At first, I simply observed.
I watched how people checked in, how the schedule was controlled, how the staff managed the space, how close the participants could get to the model, and how the organizers handled small problems on site.
These things are hard to understand from a website.
You only notice the real rhythm when you are standing there.
After joining a few events, I gradually had chances to talk with people from the organizing side. Sometimes it happened at the event venue. Sometimes it happened later over drinks at an izakaya. The conversations were not always serious at the beginning. Many of them started as casual talk.
But those casual conversations were what helped me understand something important.
Japanese agencies were not uninterested in Taiwan.
Some of them had already thought about it.
They knew Taiwan had a market.
What they lacked was a reliable contact point. They did not know the studios, the event culture, or the local operating details well enough to take the first step.
That changed how I understood the problem.
I had thought my job was to create interest.
In reality, the interest was already there.
What was missing was confidence.
Those are two different problems.
If the problem is lack of interest, you need to explain the value.
If the problem is anxiety, explaining value again and again is not enough. You need to reduce the risk they feel.
The Second Change: Let Them See It for Themselves
Later, there was a useful opportunity.
A Japanese agency came to Taiwan for a photo book project. I used that timing to invite them to visit our studio.
This time, I did not just show another deck.
I let them see the space, the sets, the lighting, and the way our events actually worked. They also happened to observe a Taiwanese photography event taking place in the studio.
That visit mattered more than any email I had sent before.
Some things are not convincing when they only exist in words.
If I say the studio is professional, they can only imagine it.
If I say our event flow is stable, they can only take my word for it.
But once they see the studio, the setup, the participant behavior, and the way we control the event, their judgment becomes more concrete.
Not long after they returned to Japan, we received good news.
The cooperation finally moved into the quotation stage.
But a new problem appeared immediately.
The model fee proposed by the Japanese side was high for the Taiwanese market.
Once flights, accommodation, staffing, visa handling, and tax-related matters were included, the cost structure was not very attractive.
Another issue was that the Japanese side preferred to follow their own event rules. Taiwan’s photography event culture is relatively more flexible, and participants care a lot about value for money. If the price went up and the rules became stricter at the same time, the risk of not filling the event would increase.
To be honest, I did think about stopping the project.
From a short-term perspective, the profit was not high, and the work was complicated.
If registration was weak or the on-site response was poor, it could easily become awkward for both sides.
But in the end, I decided to keep pushing.
Not because I suddenly became optimistic.
It was because I felt that if we could make this first event work, the meaning would go beyond one single event.
For a first cooperation, it is difficult to get the best conditions from the beginning.
But if we could execute the first event well and show the Japanese side that the Taiwanese market was real, and that our company could manage the event properly, then we would have a better basis for the next discussion.
That was how I tried to convince our company president.
This event might not generate a large profit.
But as long as it did not lose money, it was worth trying.
Because it could become a case.
For the company, it was a new cooperation model.
For me, it was also a rare chance to take part in real cross-border business development.
The Result: A Full Event, and a Little More Room to Negotiate
In the end, the event was held successfully.
And it was fully booked.
That mattered to me.
Not because the word “success” sounds nice, but because it proved that the earlier judgment was not just wishful thinking.
Even if the price was higher than a typical photography event in Taiwan, and even if the rules were stricter, participants were still willing to pay as long as the model had enough appeal and the event quality was stable.
The feedback after the event was also close to what we expected.
Some people felt the price was high.
Some felt the rules were stricter than usual.
But most of them could understand it, because Japan and Taiwan do not always handle event rules in the same way.
For the Japanese side, the result of the first event also made them much more comfortable.
Later, we reached a shared understanding that similar Taiwan-Japan photography exchange events could be held once or twice every half year.
But to me, the most important part was not only that the event was full.
It was that after the first event succeeded, we finally had more room to discuss the details.
For example, Taiwanese participants care a lot about additional interaction options, such as handshakes, phone photos, and instant photos.
These are not unusual in Taiwan, but they do not always match the Japanese side’s original practice.
If we had tried to push for all of this from the beginning, they might not have accepted it.
But after they saw how we managed the event and how the participants reacted, the conversation became different.
Eventually, some of these items were adjusted back toward a format that was closer to how Taiwanese events usually work.
In other words, we did not gain more control from the start.
We first made the first event work, and then used the result to create space for the next negotiation.
That stayed with me.
Some cooperation does not begin with perfect conditions.
Sometimes you need to prove that you can be trusted first.
The Three Adjustments That Actually Changed Me
If I only describe this as a successful event, it would be too flat.
What really affected me were the three adjustments behind it.
First adjustment: Stop looking only from my own side
Before, I thought that because our company had real experience, studios, and technical ability, the other side should be interested.
But later I realized that was only my own logic.
What the other side cared about was much simpler.
Can we trust you?
Especially in cross-border cooperation, both sides do not share the same market experience, and there is no long-term relationship yet. In that situation, no reply does not always mean no interest. Sometimes it only means they have not found a reason to trust you.
Second adjustment: Treat failure as a signal, not a conclusion
No reply was disappointing.
Of course it was.
But if I had stopped there, the project would have ended there.
Instead, I went to the actual events, observed the market, and talked with people.
Those actions looked slower, but they worked better than another email.
Because business development is not always about sending out a perfect document and waiting for someone to agree.
In an unfamiliar market, you need to appear where people can actually see you.
Third adjustment: Accept short-term results that are not ideal
The first cooperation did not have an ideal cost structure.
If I looked only at immediate profit, it would have been easy to give up.
But not every project should be judged only by the first round.
The value of the first event might be that it proves execution ability.
It might be that it shows the market is real.
It might also be that it gives the next negotiation a foundation.
This is not an excuse to accept low-profit work blindly.
It is about knowing the difference between a pure cost and a cost that buys future options.
How I See It Now
I would not call this a great story.
It was simply a process where I thought a deck might open the door, found out that no one replied, changed my method, went to the actual scene, built relationships slowly, and eventually made the project happen.
Many parts did not go smoothly.
No replies.
High quotation.
Uncertain market demand.
Different event rules between Japan and Taiwan.
Internal persuasion inside the company.
But because of those problems, I understood more clearly that work cannot rely only on passion or confidence.
You have to see where the real problem is.
You have to accept that your first method might be wrong.
You have to reduce the other side’s anxiety one piece at a time.
And when the short-term conditions are not perfect, you still need to judge whether the project is worth doing.
Of course, there was luck involved.
There was also the participant base our company had built over the years, the quality of the studio, our on-site execution, and the Japanese side’s willingness to give us a chance.
But for me, the biggest takeaway was not simply that I completed a cross-border event.
It was that I learned I could take an idea that was ignored at the beginning and keep adjusting it until it became something real.
That experience still affects how I face learning, work, and even career changes.
The first result does not always decide everything.
No response does not always mean no chance.
Doing badly once does not always mean you are not suited for it.
Sometimes the method is not right yet.
Sometimes you have not met the right person yet.
Sometimes you have not found the real obstacle yet.
I still think this is an important ability.
Not a beautiful phrase.
Just the ability to face a problem, not rush to defend yourself, look at it carefully, adjust, and try again.
A lot of things are probably built that way.