There comes a point in the life of every boy where the universe syncs with the rhythm of the cries of his heart and he transforms from a boy, into a man. For tribal boys in the Amazon, this metamorphosis comes after they are stung by an agonizing neuro-toxin that leaves them gasping for life at the end of the ordeal. Other tribal boys on the other hand treat their balls like phoenix-es sacrificing their balls by leaping off 30 metre towers with a few strands of vine being the barrier between life and the grim reapers's scythe; their balls will then be reborned into bigger, manly balls, that is, if they don't die.
Then on the other side of the table, western boys become men when they lose their virginity (So, yes, you can buy your manhood, you can beg for it, or YOU COULD DO IT THE MANLY WAY *INSERT MANLY ROAR HERE*). However, in places like Singapore where society is just a tangled mess of cultures, the mark of this transition is non-definite. Some still say its when you lose your virginity (if so there are probably tens of thousands full grown boys out there), others mark the transition by just partying at clubs...some perhaps circumcise themselves. But thanks to Jack Neo, we now popularize the notion that boys become men after their journey in National Service.
Sleep deprived, body aching, and psyching myself to get ready for the ordeal of booking in tonight, this is, my experience of the 14 days of "orientation week".
Day 1:
What lies ahead of me? What am I going to turn into? Is this 2 years really going to change me? Day 1 began with my relatives sending me off into camp, of course it really helps to be with your family when you're running late for a military appointment. So all went better than expected, first day food was underwhelming and so was the socializing. As said in my last post, as people transit between phases of their lives like going into NS, motivation fills their bodies resulting in many, many commanding tryhards with superiority complexes. I kept my mouth shut, kinda like many others too. Main challenge of the day was collecting our equipment provided, it was then I realized: You know NS is going to be tough when you have trouble merely carrying your field and duffel pack. By the way did I mention I don't look that bad bald?
Day 3:
I know, Day 3 doesn't come after Day 1, well ain't you a lil' smart ass. Well Day 2 was uneventful, full of lectures and shit. But technically, so was Day 3 except that it was ridden with warnings about how the NS adjustment period was ending tomorrow. What is an adjustment period, you may ask, just think of it somewhat like when you were two and you grew your first teeth to bite your mom's nipple, no one's gonna scold you for doing it, they just reward you with more milk, wew.
Day 4:
Psych for total annihilation, say goodbye to your arms, and banish your will to live into oblivion. What was left of hair on our scalps were raised in alarm to do our best not to get pumped by anyone, and anything said by anyone with symbols on their rank tag was like the moment before a fright in a horror film. Regardless, we took our first IPPT (I can't run, don't ask why) and ended the day, having done a mere 30 push ups, what a scare.
Day 5:
Perhaps the most inspiring moment every recruit will have before their ORD would be the rifle presenting ceremony. We were arranged in order of height...and I would say, if I was 20cm taller, I would have shook the hands of big shots...if I was taller. The parade was still inspiring after all, refilling all the tryhards with more temporal motivation, and I guess, it was needed, cos for the next few days, our rifles (or "wives") proceeded to screw us over (No euphemism intended).
Day 7:
Valentines day. Love is in the air. Hormones spewing. Testicles are going into overdrive and the sperms of us recruits are overflowing into our brains. I didn't get a desired response, but I don't regret what I did...
Anyway, have you heard of the saying that NS turns boys to men, but in the process it robs our intelligence leaving nothing but stupidity. NS doesn't rob our ability to think, the sleep deprivation that comes with NS does. Even during the time after lights out, I slowly feel my brain cells just dying in hope for a more sleep filled afterlife, and despite knowing this, my newly developed stupidity still compels me to deprive myself of more sleep by using my phone.
Day 10:
So begins our time at Nee Soon camp to finally shoot our wives (euphemism intended). This "camp" did go on for 3 days till day 12, but really, all that was required was one day for I hit my marksman criteria on the first day. Both inessential and detested, every day our highly packed field pack, helmets, battle vest and rifle worked in unison with Satan to pull our souls closer to the ground. Back and shoulders screaming mercy, and body spewing what ever moisture that was in our skins, we wondered how our 72 km road march would be like when the most we marched was probably only 2 km.
Day 14:
Guess what day it is? BOOK OUT DAY. I may not have been looking forward to coming home, or the food because the food at Pasir Ris camp, is, really darn good, but I did look forward to experiencing aircon, civilian clothing, and quite significantly, the freedom to cross my legs whenever I wanted. Our feelings were played with as instructors changed instructions that determined whether our bookout was going to be smooth or not; it was smoother than expected. However deep inside of me, I know it wouldn't be that easy in future, especially with my IPPT results.
On a side note though, there are certain things I remember vaguely without the respective dates they occurred on (Thanks to my dying brain). Like how the resident big shot boss in camp told us that we, chosen recruits, are the top 10% of our batch in terms of family history, personality, health and IQ (though perhaps not so much on that anymore). I took pride that my personality had traits of anti-establishment character (Yes, we are taught to be good, and proud of it).
Book in in less than 7 hours. Hello again regimentation.
