slack?????
the course i'm taking is 7 months long, maybe 8 depending on how lucky we are. the people here are very strict on discipline so it can get a little irritating at times, but nothing i can't handle. we just get punished quite a lot over small things.
we sleep 2 to a room, with 2 rooms sharing a toilet, so it's like room-toilet-room. the rooms all smell terrible because they haven't been used for like 5 months, and the cupboards smell even worse. the bedsheets too, even the new ones.
some people may think it's great that we have our own rooms, but seriously i'd rather sleep in bunks because firstly there're more people around and it's more lively, rather than now with my buddy and if we don't get along, things will be terrible. secondly it's really troublesome to be cleaning the whole damn room and toilet with so little manpower, besides that their room inspections are very strict, and also they may have surprise inspections after which we will all be dead meat.
anyway our life now is not slack at all, but in a few months' time it will probably be, once we've settled down and the instructors stop bothering us so much. in the future i will most likely be sitting in an office in some police station doing paperwork, so no driving around in cop cars and arresting people who are ridin' dirty etc.
most of our time will be spent studying and studying and studying. there are 6 essay-based exams i think, and also a few mcq papers which have a passing grade of 70%. if we fail we'll have to retake, and if we fail too many times, it's GOODBYE.
2x WTF
i was thinking about yesterday's events and i realised something. to a normal person, yesterday would have been a very good day, with double happiness from the impending removal of braces as well as the 'perfect' vocation in ns.
if i were a normal person i'd be jumping for joy and doing other things that happy people would do, like hugging each other etc.
however, yesterday was a double WTF? day for me. i wasn't really happy or sad, just thinking WTF? and maybe a little shocked in a bad way.
don't you think it's a little strange? i think something's wrong with me, like seriously wrong, and i should try to figure out what it is. let me know if you have any clues/ideas/hints/gameshark codes.
two sides to everything
shock #1
this morning i went to the dentist and she said my braces can come off by november if everything goes well. i was slightly stunned and disappointed because i had already prepared myself to have braces on for at least another year, and now she suddenly tells me that they can come off after only 8 months.
i mean, it's supposed to be a good piece of news but i was rather taken aback for some reason. so anyway if you still haven't seen me in braces then please quickly make an appointment to do so within the next 2 months.
shock #2
after going to the dentist, i proceeded back to np to play soccer. i then found out that posting results were already out, although it was supposed to be out only at 12. so after some hesitancy, i finally gave in and got my friend to check for me.
turns out i've been sent to home team academy for training to be a police inspector. it is considered the most value for money vocation because we get paid a lot to do very little. you'd expect me to be quite happy about it but my reaction was again one of shock and disappointment.
this is also because i had already mentally prepared myself for OCS/SISPEC training and all the assorted shit that came with it, and now suddenly all my preparation has gone to waste. i was ready for the jungle and now i'm sent to a concrete jungle.
another thing i wasn't happy about was that almost everyone i know has been sent to command school to slog their asses off while i get to chill and drive police cars while at the same time getting a higher pay. i know it's not a bad thing but somehow it just feels wrong.
is there life after youth? (fun)
a small group of us went out to celebrate our 1 year vietnam anniversary. this time last year i was sleeping in a hotel room in hanoi after smoking a cigar and getting a big headache. fun times, fun times.
i think i need to instill a greater sense of adventure upon myself. then i'd be terribly excited about all the crap life throws at me, because after all each day is a new adventure, and adventures are supposed to be fun.
i can then learn to enjoy my future young-adulthood and all the freedom it brings. go study, work overseas, go on holidays, enjoy life, blah blah blah. yea, fun.
tomorrow at noon (technically today) we're all gonna find out our posting results. i still can't decide on where i would prefer going, so at least i can be happy (or pretend to be) if i get my desired posting. now i just think that each posting brings about a different set of shit, so no preferences. just pretend to be excited and have fun.
they're all the same same same SAME SAME SAME
i buy albums quite often but it has been ages since i've heard a song that is really good, the kind that can shake your consciousness and slap you around, the kind that can make you think about life and death and love and everything else in the universe, the kind that can make you feel so terrible and yet you have it on repeat the whole day.
the albums i buy- rock, indie, hardcore, male singers, female singers, whatever. they all sound the same, like they're singing the same song in a different voice and in a different tune. it's hard to explain but the sound that comes out is the same. it feels like a global homogenisation of music, or something to that extent. or maybe i'm just too dead to enjoy it.
everything i hear i feel like i've heard it before in some form or another. there's nothing new, nothing exciting, nothing groundbreakingly awesome. everything's just nice. i think the last album i've heard that i thought was really great was blaqk audio's cexcells, exactly a year ago. maybe i just haven't had the luck and bought all the mediocre albums, or maybe my taste in music is simply rubbish, but i don't think it's so simple.
it's something terrible and it's happening now.
stalkerish tendencies
hello, pretty girl on the mrt, pretty girl who got on at braddell (i think it was braddell, and around 11:30pm) and alighted at sembawang.
yes, you. the one dressed in a black tank top, black cardigan and grey jeans, looking so very casual in your slippers.
i think you must have been the prettiest girl i've seen in ages, probably since before i enlisted. but you're not only pretty, you looked quite unique, much unlike everyone else. i think you're special.
there's something about that shock of messy hair and rectangular spectacles that framed your face so perfectly. it's as though you didn't even have to try and yet managed to look so perfectly well-constructed.
and your big set of headphones gave me the impression that you're some kinda metalhead. are you?
too bad i'll never get to find out, and you'd never know that i think you're so damn pretty, but that's ok because your image shall remain forever untainted.
cougar part 3: something's missing
3. being in the army
the pain of ns is not one that is sharp. it will not leave you writhing on the ground, screaming in agony. the pain is more of a dull ache that constantly gnaws away at your brain and at your heart. the aching comes and goes, sometimes it is so gentle that you forget it's there, sometimes it gets quite strong and you try to distract yourself from the pain, but the pain is always there.
even on weekends when you're free to roam the earth as you please, the pain will still be there throbbing at the back of your head, reminding you that in a day or two you're gonna be back on the ferry, back on the island, back to all the fun.
i've tried to figure out just what is it about ns or about the army or about being on that island that brings all this pain, and i think i know.
there's an army song that goes "here we go again, same old shit again." in the army it's just same shit, different day. everyday is just one long bore, every week is just one longer bore, every month is just... each day is spent counting down to book-out day, and each book-out day is spent counting down to book-in day.
there's no excitement being on the island. everyday you wake up and you know it's always the same people you're gonna be seeing for the next 17 hours, the same people who're gonna be shouting at you or working with you or having fun with you. it's always the same.
in the outside world, there's always the chance, no matter how slight, that something vaguely interesting is going to happen. maybe you'll meet a hot chick, or perhaps you'll somehow decide to fly overseas for a holiday. there's an element of surprise or spontaneity even in the most mundane of days.
it's not like we don't do different or new things in the army, but it's just that you always ALWAYS know that no matter what happens, you'll be having breakfast lunch and dinner at the cookhouse, you'll be going back to sleep in your bunk with the same people at 2230, you'll be waking up at 0530, and the cycle starts again.
maybe after reading this you'd think that the pain is nothing much, and i have to agree because it is not as painful as i thought it would be, but it is always there and that's how it causes the damage. even now when i'm at home with nothing to do but to relax and enjoy my leave, it is busily gnawing away, reminding me that in a week's time i'll be off to more unknown lands, facing more unknown adversaries.
ouch.
cougar part 2: digging your own grave
2. shell scrape digging
a shell scrape is a grave for recruits to dig and sleep in during their field camp, and is not intended for any military purposes. it is supposed to fit the digger and his field pack without any part protruding, so it's about 2m long and maybe half a metre deep.
when i heard that we were supposed to finish it in 45mins, i felt relieved because i thought it couldn't be that difficult, or else the time wouldn't be so short.
but like all things in the army, what we're supposed to do and what actually happens is usually very different. armed with a tiny hoe (aka ET stick and blade, i don't know what the fuck ET stands for), dressed in number 4 uniform, load bearing vest, helmet, and the damned rifle slung on my shoulder, i started digging.
the time was around 1530 to 1600. the ground was harder than i expected, the hoe was just as useless as i thought it would be. my rifle was falling off with each stroke i made, my helmet moving all about. the vest was cutting into my arm. "wow, this is fun," i thought.
so the process went something like this- swing hoe into ground, rifle falls off, pull rifle back up, dig out the chunk of soil, throw soil aside, adjust rifle again, continue.
soon an hour had passed and no one was near completion. 2 hours, and one guy was done. 3, 4, the sky was getting dark and we had to work in candlelight. more fun was to come when i started to dig into roots from the rubber trees, so i had to chop at the roots with my stupid blade.
5 hours and many people were done. i was still hacking away at the roots. we were supposed to stop at 2130, which was an hour away. those who failed to complete were supposed to go for a re-dig on a weekend.
time was almost up and i gave a last burst of fire, as well as got my buddy to help, and finally FINALLY completed the damned thing. the same cannot be said about some others, and they had to continue digging later that night.
our fingers were swollen for a few days afterwards, but because i'm special, my joints still feel funny when i clench my fists now, despite it being more than a month ago.
once again, this experience is more about mental pain than physical. spending 6 hours on a stupid hole with a useless ET stick is no joke. other countries' military forces have entrenching tools (aka SPADES) and all we have are stupid ET sticks. oh, and i think ET stands for Entrenching Tool.
my friend even managed to break 2 sticks while digging his hole because the whole area was filled with rocks and roots. whenever he swung the blade, there would be a TING sound instead of the blade digging into the soil. i can only imagine his agony.
cougar part 1: a walk to remember
looking back at the past 9 weeks of my bmt life, i think most of the pain i experienced was mental rather than physical, with most of it coming from simply being stuck in camp, rather than from the activities we had.
i shall share with you the first of my 3 worst experiences in bmt. parts 2 and 3 will come soon.
1. 24km route march
during our normal company marches, the pace is around 35-45mins every 4km (affectionately known as The Cougar Pace), which is much faster than what we're supposed to be walking but most of us were happy with it because we can end earlier, despite being more tired. however, the 24km march was done with several other companies who travel at the normal pace of around 1 hour every 4km.it wasn't so much about being tired, but rather being bored to tears. we started at around 1530 and ended at 1130, including 1 and a half hours of dinner break. during the 16-20km mark i felt like crying because i was so fucking bored and there was still at least another 3 hours left to go, and the pace we were moving was so incredibly slow. at one point we were stopping every few metres for some unknown reason.
anyway i didn't cry, in case you were wondering. i just continued walking and nearly fell asleep a few times along the way, but still managed to complete it without much difficulty. after the march at least 70% of my calves were covered in rashes from unknown sources, which alarmed some of the people around me because it really looked quite bad but it was gone in a few days.
out of the pot, into the fire
now that i'm officially off the island, you can bring on all the 'private ryan' jokes. the last few days passed without any incident, which i think is a great big anti-climax to the 2 months spent there.
i was in my bunk watching other companys' sergeants spraying recruits (and their beds) with fire hoses and recruits shampooing their sergeants, while our sergeants were all hiding somewhere, perhaps out of fear for their personal safety.
anyway i swallowed another piece of my braces wire yesterday, so if the last one didn't kill me this one will.
now i know why
"and i'll sit in wonder of every love that could've been
if i'd only thought of something charming to say"
the sound of settling - death cab for cutie
i think it's because i've never seen someone so happy to see me before.
perfect as cats
this is the best thing i've seen in a long long long time. so long that i can't remember the 2nd best thing, but it's probably related to random hot chicks i see on the streets, because hot chicks are always great.
speaking of cats, my cat has turned strangely docile since i enlisted. he just sits around and doesn't bite or scratch when i stroke him. maybe i was the cause of his crazy behaviour in the past, and now that i'm gone he has no reason to be crazy anymore.
and erm good news i'm still not dead. now i'm worried the wire will rip my ass when i eventually shit it out.
my invisible bra
i swallowed a piece of wire from my braces yesterday, so don't be so surprised if i die of internal bleeding within the next few days.
and i somehow managed to develop sweaty palms after my field camp a month ago. interesting thing is that they only seem to be sweaty when i'm not on the island (like now). told you that place was magical.
and and and i really don't have anything to write about so if you wish to read about any particular thing just let me know and your wish shall be granted.
army fucks you up
remember this? i'm struggling with my standing broad jump now, even struggling very terribly to get 234cm (minimum gold standard) when i used to be able to jump 260 for fun.
fortunately i managed to hobble my way to somewhere around 9mins 30secs for 2.4km so it's a gold.
anyway i'm getting off the island for good this wednesday and i think it's quite sad. people always say bmt is the most fun part of army and since it's coming to an end, i can expect to enjoy the following 1 year 8 months in wherever i shall be.
we've finally settled in quite nicely and started with our random nonsensical fun and now we have to go.
