Falling In

I wish I could be more excited about going for In-Camp Training (ICT).

After all, it's conventional wisdom that Singaporean men look forward to it as a break from the office environment, and a chance to catch up with old army buddies.

I see it a little differently. There are four things about ICT that get on my goat:

1. That I have to go for it. This is often treated with incredulity by many of my friends who don't have any reservist liability because they were downgraded, or were put on the holding list upon ORD-ing (despite being obscenely fit--too many of my friends fall into this category). They can't believe that I'm already due for my fourth ICT, having gone for three as an undergraduate at NUS.
2. That it isn't as easy as people think. Yes, my ICTs have been a far cry from the regimented days of my full-time National Service (NS), but it isn't exactly the "book in, read newspaper, go canteen break, go back bunk to sleep" affair that I often hear it described as. I've had to go outfield, and even been subjected to the ignonimity of being sent for a haircut by my RSM...despite having gone for a haircut the day before booking in.
3. That it isn't really a time for me to 'catch up'. My two and a half years in NS could perhaps be best described as 'complicated'. Even though I'm attending my reservist ICTs with the same people I did NS with, I'm neither familiar with my current function nor platoon mates. As I said, it's complicated...could take me a whole night to explain. The short of it is, I'm somewhat of a liability to my platoon, being the new kid on the block.
   

So you see, I do wish I could be more excited about going back. I wish I could tell the kind of NS stories that are told whenever Singaporean guys gather round at a table, but I don't. I wish I could reminisce with the people I will be seeing in two hours' time when I return to camp, but I can't.

What about the fourth thing, you ask?

Well, today's my 25th birthday.

Stars in Our Own Car

Last night, I eschewed a reunion dinner with acquaintances from my job search, a bluegrass listening party in the East, and a big-ass Poptart (at Phuture) in favour of a small, sit-down gathering at a friend's place. He'd organised it to celebrate his 25th birthday as he liked it: in his own room, with a few of his best pals, and the music they love.

Having known him only since April this year, I'm still quite a newcomer to his circles. Some of those who turned up go back with him as far as eight years. It was both interesting and touching to listen to them talk about people they knew, the times back in school, even the gifts they exchanged yonks ago. Though their words were tossed about casually, they dripped with humanity and warmth.

Cramped in the dim corners of his bedroom, feeling the night slip away with the alcohol, watching him and a friend smoke out the window like schoolkids having a furtive puff, listening to indie MP3s and gushing about the bands that made them, gawking at concert videos off the net, drinking and generally having a laff with everyone, I felt strangely moved. It felt no different from a junior college bonding session, except we were twenty-something, working adults.

And I'm glad that, even as working adults, we still hold on to the wide-eyed fascination of our adolescence...because teenagers, in their powerless idealism, always see something beautiful in the world that adults don't.

Six Degrees

Today I was at an event attended by friends, colleagues, ex-teachers, former mentors, and acquaintances. I did not anticipate seeing them there, though I should have. Apprehending the sight of them all in one place, and for the same reason, I realised how frighteningly small and self-reinforcing social circles can be. In turns, I witnessed awkwardness, politeness, effervesence, and adolescent self-importance. I was also briefly reminded of a person I once was, of how certain things used to matter to me, and of how I've tried to move on as if they never did.

It isn't nearly dramatic as it sounds, though--the afternoon was fine, but I am glad the evening ended in the company of people who understand.