The last few days have been a blur. I frequently find myself not knowing the day, nor that date. I wake up when breakfast is over, and sleep when the europeans do. A post ORD life.
I remember, that slightly more than 2 years ago, it wasn't like this. At all.
December 9th 2005
I woke up with a heavy dreading in my heart. In my mind, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, compounded by the lethargy of my civilian flesh. On that morning, I knew, that on that night, I wouldn't be back in my bed. My life, from there on end, would change forever. I wanted to cry, when I was about to leave my house, knowing that I would not see it again for the next 2 weeks. I stumbled at the thought of not seeing it, save for weekends, for the next 2 years. A watershed moment, in more ways than one.
I don't even remember the ride to pasir ris mrt, a venue I would well be familiar with in the weeks to come. As I stepped out of the car in the carpark, a slight drizzy greeted me; the calm before the storm. My parents and brothers were with me, and I guess I could sense the anticipation they had for me; all of them spoke not a single word.
We took a shuttle bus, with 2 other families, to pasir ris mrt. There, I got scolded for wearing a cap by one of the sergeants. I took it off. My 2nd brother, Ryan, was questioned as to why he was wearing short pants. If you know me, I hate to be in those kinds of situations, where you're new and suddenly the spot lights on you. I get very frustrated and often take it out on people close to me. I took it out on my parents, on why they chose those pair of shorts for my brother to wear.
I was nervous beyond description. My family and I soon boarded the bus that took us to Changi Ferry Terminal. On the journey over land and sea, I was silent. A train rush of thoughts crashed through my head.
The first thing that happened on the island was a temporary separation from my parents. And then, the moment that would define the next 2 years of my life.
I handed over my pink IC to someone whom I don't even remember.
I collected a bag, along with my dog tags. Sitting down at an area waiting for a briefing, I saw Daniel, and no one could know how relieved and happy I was at the sight of him. We were a distance away, and I mouthed to him "where?". He pointed "3", "2". My heart sank. I pointed back "3", "3". At this point, little did I know that we were actually in the same platoon, just different sections. I thought he was in a whole other different place from where I would be.
The (I would soon find out) Raven Sergeant Major then gave his address, and I can't really remember what he said or the jokes he made to calm us down. The only thing I remember was this question, "did any of you all go chiong last night?!". I remember thinking, " are you freaking insane?!"
We proceeded to the auditorium, where our families were already waiting. I remember Idzham's father asking the CO, "what if my son cannot wake up in the morning? at home his alarm clock ring he can also sleep through it!" Our familes laughed. The recruits kept a straight face. Afraid.
When the briefing was over, we were to proceed to the cookhouse for lunch. Us recruits had to line up outside the auditorium with all our belongings, and wait for our parents to pick us up. I was one of the last because my father had to go to the toilet. I was very pissed off, but I did not show it, because I knew I was gonna miss them very much in approximately 1 hour from then.
After lunch, it was time. We walked to the ferry terminal again to see our families off. I wanted to cry, very badly. I felt so alone, lost, scared...no...terrified. I remember my mom saying, "okay la son, it's time to go. Just go, just go." I know her, I know it's her way of saying "I'll miss you very much, but you're gonna have to go through this, you're a big boy now, you can do this, we all love you."
As the last figures of my family vanished into the boat, I turned my back and walked towards the grouping area. And I have not turned my back since.
