Up To Speed

My previous post paints quite an unhappy picture of life in the past months, but there were definitely good things. I think those genuinely good things were as vital to whatever turnaround I experienced as anything else. Because time is short (I’m booking in soon), I will fall back on the expedient of lists.

Events (Momentous or Marginal):

• Theory Grade 8 Exam (last Saturday).
• All the outfield activities for my current batch.
• Finishing the last page in my awesome black notebook!
• Finally having a clear idea of the colleges I will be applying to this year.

Good Things:

• Toffee nut lattes. (‘Tis the season.)
• Nasi Lemak at Changi Village.
• Music! Lots of Wilco, Metric, Jamiroquai…
• Shrimp and avocado sandwich on freshly baked brown bread! The bread is chewy, the shrimp is fresh, the vegetables are crisp, and there’s avocado!
• YG5, a group of great people I’ve really come to appreciate.
• Finding solitude on duty. I listened to the other COS playing the bagpipes in camp when no one else was around, explored the area on bike, and listened to Radio Lab in the night. Quite wonderful stuff, really.

I think you’ll agree, life’s been going on even if I wasn’t really paying attention.

Before I leave the house, I really should mention something that’s coming up in the next few Sundays, because it’s something I’m excited about. Christianity Revisited is something two of the small groups in my church are organizing for our friends. The blog is really useful reading if you want to know what we have in mind, but what I’m psyched about is that it’s going to be an environment where we’re going to try and assume as little as possible, and be as open to questions and discussion as we can. We have you, our friends, in mind when we were thinking about this, so we didn’t want it to be something uncomfortably ‘churchy’ or sneakily evangelical either. We are Christians, but I guess what we’re hoping for is the opportunity to share about the things we think about the world and listen to what you believe, because beliefs are kind of difficult to bring up sometimes. I hope you’ll consider.

Now, I’ll be putting into effect my change-parade- and everything-in-everything-out-honed skills. I have a boat to catch. Until next week.

Wrapping Up

My Taiwan notes stopped at a point before the eight consecutive days we spent in the field, and before R&R, so I suppose I have the larger part of it left to cover, although it honestly wasn’t much.

Time and distance have blurred my impressions of the outfield experience. I remember that having wet underwear only an hour into the first mission was a huge morale sapper, but it rained every day after that anyway and somehow was got used to it. The long and short of it is that I got used to the walking, the sweat, the heat, the waiting and, to a lesser extent, the insects and insect repellent. In between that there were the missions. I suppose the matter-of-fact-ness could be taken as a sign that the ASLC was successful in making an infantryman out of me.

I’ve tried hard to conjure up something that was memorable from those eight days, but so far only two things come to mind. One was a long moment of stillness, the other was a moment of delirious accomplishment.

The still moment was when my buddy and I stood sentry on the hillside for about an hour and a half. The sky was heavy, and it rained throughout. From where we stood it was a straight drop down. We could look down into the valley between our hill and the next. There was a pylon about thirty meters behind us, and over our heads, the power lines went to the next hill and into the distance. I remember us being mostly silent throughout the time we were there, and I remember thinking about how rare it was to be comfortable with that silence and share it.

The other moment involved my left shoulder. It was the Matador and me again for a mission that involved scrambling up a muddy hill in driving rain as the sky got darker and the visibility plummeted. After the attack, we had to go down the hill in the dark. Then there was a long march to the next destination. Somehow my left shoulder (of steel) lasted the whole way through. I could feel every step, and every few meters I would think, ‘Stop!’, but I didn’t, and then I found I’d reached the end. So that was painful, and kind of fun.

Other than that, I remember the squelch of wet socks, but the rest is a muddy green blur.

R&R was unfulfilling. It had something to do with the fact that it was two-and-a-half days long. I spent almost all of the time shopping, something I don’t usually do. I ended up buying a lot of clothes though. I think, during R&R, I resigned myself to the fact that my peers’ lists of desires to be fulfilled were limited to spending money, getting stuff, eating food (mostly junk food), and spending money being comfortable in between all those things. Which isn’t bad, as far as things go, except for the spending. I think what was lacking was leisure. There was too much to do, if you weren’t prepared to go off on your own for a day. (Not that we had a single full day of unrestricted ops.) Taipei is a nice place, but R&R wasn’t much.

That about wraps things up, way over time.

The Strain of Decisions

Since I received my posting five days ago, I assumed that the next two thirds of my army life would see me being an instructor to recruits. (I should mention that the term ‘instructor’ has been roundly denounced in the course I am in the middle of, but I use the term in a general way.) In some ways, I had already been envisioning such a role for myself since my recruit days, although I’ve consciously told myself at each stage that nothing was certain, even as I saw myself first being posted to Specialist school, the infantry course, and, finally, to the eastern island.

When I reported, and when I was told about an available administrative job in the HQ, I quickly grasped that it was something I’d be very good at, because I knew I had done much of the work before as a QM and project manager, and picked up the skills in the process. That realization threw open another door for me that was more appealing than I would have anticipated, because of other factors like having a wider view of the system. I was also thrown into a trap of analysis and self-dissection, especially in the wake of answers I had had to provide before feeling as though I had had enough time to consider. Deliberating possible courses of action at the same time I was dissecting myself, all under time pressure, was stressful.

When things get confusing, having a ready and available check can be immensely helpful, and I thank God for friendship. I made a call, and God provided the answer through my friend. My answer is locked in, and I’ll see the result soon, but what I am most thankful for is that, right now, I am at peace.

When A Message Can’t Go Out

Having dutifully surrendered my handphone, and having been denied access to a calling card-enabled telephone for the time being, I am, at present, unable to call anyone. I have calls I wish I could make, and it is ironic that in the present situation, when I actually have the leisure to contemplate long conversations, I simply can’t get a call out.

The special situation I have been alluding to is this: the continuum of activity and exertion that is Starlight has been interrupted by a meteorological phenomenon known as a typhoon. [Note 070909: I didn't hear the word 'Morakot' until I got back.]

We’ve had to barricade ourselves in. The batteries for the lanterns have been charged, and the jerrycans are filled. The doors are locked and the windows are sealed. Unfortunately, the payphone is in the next building.

In Transit

I left the house about 33 minutes ago in a bit of a flurry. It was only when I was in the cab here that I realized that I won’t be seeing my house again until the 23rd. ‘Here’ is Adam Road Food Center, where I’m having dinner with my YG, and after Bible study tonight, I’ll be going straight to the airport.

I’m about 20 minutes early for dinner, and as I sit here, I’m starting to feel like I’m already in transit. In my mind’s eye I see the swirling current of travel logistics, the work of preparation and hard training in front of me, ready to suck me in before it releases me again three weeks later. My instinct is to take a deep breath, but I’m not sure I can hold my breath that long.

Perhaps what I’m feeling is pressure. I am having a headache, and I am attempting to relieve the pressure on my brain with a double serving of kopi-o. Not quite as poisonous as a double espresso, I think.

Country Music and the End of Abstinence from Coffee

From a few hours ago:

My mood is on a definite Up right now, and I know I’m going to be feeling really mellow later. This isn’t a strictly-speaking happy kind of ‘up’; it’s more of a pleased-with-life-and-smiling kind of up. I suppose the feeling comes from me laughing at a kind of inside joke between myself and the rain pouring outside; it’s a good joke, but it’s the kind of joke that I’ve been tired of thinking about lately because there aren’t that many who’d get it and few enough I’d share it with and most of the week I’m stuck somewhere away from them.

I managed to write that down before this country song suddenly started in my head. I don’t know where it came from exactly, although I suppose it has to do with some of the thoughts I’d been thinking of writing about mixing with the Friday Night Lights I’ve been watching. (I started watching it on Friday but I’ve watched quite a bit of it already. It’s quite awesome. I know I’m more than a year behind.) But it was exciting because it’s the first time I’ve managed to start writing a song with the words first. So, that interrupted me.

In other news, not a drop of anything caffeinated passed my lips for five solid days. (Cue applause.) That commendable effort was bolstered by the departure of my appetite brought about by my illness. And it ended spectacularly tonight at my favorite coffee place (remembered here, heh). The brew for today was the same as the one I had the bad judgment to try at Jurong Point two weeks ago, but they didn’t screw it up here (that’s why it’s my favorite), and it was terrific. It could’ve been the best cup I’ve ever been aware of having. Or, as Kenny reminded me, it could have been the sweet, sweet taste of addiction.

But yes, it’s been a good day after a comfortable, but dull and sometimes painful week. I still haven’t written down some of the stuff I’ve been meaning to, but I suppose the important ones have been covered some place or other. Here’s to the last day of the weekend and the last week before Grandslam!

Home Quarantine

The Panadol (well, Zerin, actually) is keeping the temperature down. I discovered ‘antipyretic’ while reading the label. The meaning of the word was clear, but it was funny because, just the Saturday before, we (Juliet company, SISpec) were happily cheering, ‘The Juliet on FIRE!’ on games day. (Don’t ask me about the ‘the’.) Yesterday, there were six of us burning up before we were sent home. I’ll be home, and nowhere else, until Saturday.

I suppose there’s no point bemoaning my ‘good’ luck, even if I don’t think coming within a day of status to having to redo my course is a good thing. In any case, the enjoyment of home comforts is all but driving away my niggling worries about OOC-ing. I am very relieved that I don’t have to go through the very painful experience of taking a cold shower while feverish again.

While at home today, I was catching up on stuff I’ve not had the time to do recently. Like posting here. But my throat is telling me I should go sleep and leave the rest until tomorrow.

How I Spent Friday Afternoon

After lunch at home, I took a walk:

Route in red.

There were plenty of detours along the way, the longest being the loop to Marina Bay station. That brought me right through the IR construction site, which was extremely dusty. I’d just walked by the office towers in the CBD proper, and it was kind of interesting to anticipate that all the construction will, if things go according to plan, result in another area of buildings and towers. There were other interesting spots along the way, like the shophouses along Neil Road and Everton Road, and the little square of grass by the river near One Fullerton. After that I had coffee.

It’s A Time Thing

Written on the night of 1 April, in bunk: 

Once again, that time of year has crept up on me. I imagine that a victim of a practical joke might feel the way I’m feeling now, although this is partly because of the manner in which I was I was reminded of the significance of the day: it was Mr. Yeang’s message that reminded me, but then I also remembered that I’d forgotten his. The first reminder left me feeling quite cheated. The second one made me feel quite terrible. Even worse, I have the vague feeling that the exact same thing has happened to me before. But then again, if I had remembered his, I wouldn’t have forgotten my own. 

From where I stand, it always looks as though pretty much everyone is constantly aware of where they stand chronologically, but for reasons I don’t understand, I feel like I actually have to consciously stop myself and get a fix on the calendar date from time to time. It is an odd feeling, when you feel like you’re odd. 

2215 (lights-out) is fast approaching. April 1 is nearly over and, well, I have IPPT to look forward to tomorrow. I feel as though I could almost believe that the weekend will be here soon, but anticipation is such an annoyingly ambiguous feeling. I think army life has worsened my time resolution by a factor of seven, because of the whole weekend thing. It could be the anticipation throwing me off, or my conscious blocking of it, which I accomplish by trying not to think about time. 

But now I’ve run out of time. 

The weekend before was a short one, and this weekend I kind of forgot about this until today, so this was posted late.

Things To Be Sure Of

As with most things we leave behind, we only realize what exactly we will miss about them some time after we’ve left them. THey’re quite often small things, but then we remember them because they were, in their small way, important. It is the absence that makes itself felt, and even if we thought we knew what we left behind was good, well, this heart grew fonder. 

My first week in a new environment hasn’t been challenging, exactly (read: slack), but I think it’s been less than easy in other ways. While I did suspect that Z/1/2 was exceptional, I suppose I was reluctant to consciously lower my expectations for the future. Either I was right before, or my current situation is the exception in the opposite direction. I hope things will improve with time, but I hope I don’t get used to the way things are now if they continue this way. A friend of mine once wrote something along the lines of ‘the reek of mediocrity’ (or was it ‘the stench’?), and, really, it is something you feel in the air; it’s also hard to ignore, especially when the voices in your head make themselves conspicuous. 

I think many people have voices in their heads that remind them about things whenever they’re in a certain type of situation. This week, I found that I’ve got a new one in my head: the voice of my first PC, complete with the emphatic expletives. This means that there has been a lot of swearing going on in the reaches of my mind whenever I didn’t manage to ignore the sloppy drills and lousy attitudes I’ve happened to observe, and I think you can imagine how that aggravates. Nine weeks have left their mark, evidently; but then again, one of my teachers once characterized me as a kind of tabula rasa, although he put it in less definite terms, because his England not so good, and his Latin also. In any case, I suppose this means I’m still impressionable. 

Right now, the flame of my discontent is still burning, but I know I’ll be tempted to lower my standards. I think my expectations will inevitably change, but at this moment, I actually feel strangely confident that my attitude won’t. I think it’s a good thing, and I suppose that, whatever the next few weeks will be like, this is something I can be proud of.