17 Days in Brunei
Departure
The SAF being the good and efficient organisation it always has been, for a 2:30AM flight, we were made to gather at 11:30AM, and got our boarding passes less than 2 hours before the flight. The hour being late, not many shops were open but I managed to have my last taste of Babbi for the next 17 days.
Some of the men seemed quite excited on departure day, taking pictures with their Ah Lian girlfriends in the Departure Hall while the latter were chattering in their shrill voices. It was rather enervating but forgivable, for perhaps it was to be their first time on a plane (some even took pictures in the plane before takeoff). There was also this very lame incident where one Ah Lian scurried to her presumed boyfriend's side, and her strap fell off her shoulder.
Being a patriotic organisation, the SAF commandeered an SIA flight for us, even though they might have saved more money flying us there on Ma-laysian Airlines, albeit with a transfer at KLCC. We'd been told that SIA's SAF flights differed greatly from their normal ones, that the service was poorer and the stewardesses all "could not make it". Happily, this wasn't true, except that no alcohol seemed to be served. The amount of makeup on the stewardesses was the same, though this isn't necessarily a good thing - the 3cm of foundation tends to make them look artificial and plasticy.
Sidenote: SIA is really quite dilligent about upgrading their services - they now have Video on Demand in Economy class, and the airline seats come with additional padding for the back which can optionally be retracted.
Arrival
Just before we disembarked, the pilot proudly told us that it was not raining, but by the time our buses arrived at the jetty, it was pouring. On seeing the vehicles that were to convey us down the river, we were dumbfounded - we'd been told that we would be ferried to the eastern part of Brunei on "fastcraft", but the boats waiting for us in the river were just glorified Motorised Sampans.
After a somewhat bumpy ride, we reached Temburong. As we were bused to Lakiun camp, I noticed a "Temburong Tourist Information Centre". What tourists would want to or be able to do in Temburong, I have no idea, unless their idea of fun is bumping into SAF training troops somewhere in the jungle.
Lakiun camp was underwhelming, but then it is 30 years old. In a token effort to capture some of the atmosphere of Singapore, thoroughfares in Lakiun are named after Singaporean roads - they have a "PIE" and "Holland Road", for example. This amused a few, but the amusement turned to shock when we went to our bunks - I reckon they are the worst bunks in any SAF camp. They are crowded, stuffy, hot and poorly ventillated. The cupboards are damaged and of insufficient size (each shared by 2 people to boot), the mattresses are of dirty foam and many bedframes have springs missing. The front door to our bunk could not even close properly, and large gaps were left for insects to fly in through. All this did not bother me much, however, for after SMM Ulu Pandan, nothing fazes me anymore.
Due to a screwup, of the 3 sets of uniforms (treated with some slightly pungent-smelling chemical) that I was initially issued, one shirt was one size too small. Happily, this problem was later resolved. One pair of pants had many holes in it, though. Luckily, I didn't have to go outfield in them. My bed was another issue, however. When I first sat on it, I noticed that it was sagging dangerously at one corner. When I lay on it later, a spring broke, followed shortly by another. Alarmed, I decided not to lie on my mattress anymore - at least not while it was on the bedframe. That night, and the next night I slept in the bunk, I placed my mattress on the floor. Seeing me do this, Zhenhao, who was occupying the bed above me, was alarmed. It turned out that he too had a defective bedframe and he had been counting on me to break his fall if, in the middle of the night, his bedframe should give way. With my migration to the floor, there was now no helpful Gabriel to cushion his impact. He thus moved to the position that I had vacated and got some cardboard to add support where there were no springs.
Mercifully short torments
In a fit of energy, my Senior Medic got me to walk up and down the steeply sloped Lakiun road. It was tiring already but to make matters worse, after I'd done a few rounds, he set me an impossible timing of 2 minutes to complete the round, with a penalty of pushups if I could not meet the timing. My previous timing had been 2:30 and I was even more shagged now, so I did the only logical thing - I cut the round short. Unfortunately, I was caught and had to do 20 pushups and 40 crunches. I don't know why - maybe it was the combined strain of the slope walking, mind-numbing boredom, unrealistic expectations, poor nutrition and the prospect of no supplementary intakes, physical punishment and loneliness - but I started tearing. I was made to go another few rounds, and by the end of the session, my tear-streaked face had elicited concerned and curious looks. I went into the medical centre to compose myself, but was chased outside to "cool down", so after a suitable interval wailing outside, I retreated to the Isolation Sickbay (while wearing a N95 mask, of course, the being socially responsible citizen that I am) to compose myself, nuzzled by my polar bear, whom I had brought along to comfort me during the 17 days.
Thankfully, that was my one and only slope training session, but I was also made to go for one session of Company Morning PT despite being PES C9L2 and having done Medical Centre duty the previous day. The PT consisted of several rounds of a steep circuit at the top of the camp, each followed by a static exercise. Possibly because of several factors, including not having had breakfast and my collapsed arches hurting as they do every morning just after I wake, my performance was worse than usual and I was chastised by my Acting CSM.
The Daily Grind
Mercifully, I did not have to go outfield, either to chiong or to do cover (except for 1/2 day), so I spent every day in the medical centre (some might be led to wonder why I still have so much to write about). Following the example of the permstaff, I was in vest and slacks more often than No 4, so I managed to make one set of No 4 last for 10 days (a veritable first).
42SAR, being the outstanding unit that it is, chalked up the highest Report Sick rate in living memory, keeping the medics' hands full. Furthermore, some people were being obsessive about keeping redundant statistics and updating the Ops Room about patients' statuses though, but very often the Ops Room screwed up and lost the updates. It was quite infuriating.
My main challenge in Lakiun was overcoming mind-numbing boredom. The 2 periodicals and 5 books I brought would have run out, if not for Melvin and Jason's kind loans to me of Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code" and Catherine Lim's "The Song Of Silver Frond" respectively (see post above). I should've brought my MP3 player and digital camera also, but was afraid that they might be stolen. In the end, many people brought the latter.
The Medical Centre in Lakiun is for some reason well-stocked with back issues of Pioneer magazine and Army News. And so it came to pass that I read the first issue of Pioneer that I would have no chance to receive in my mail due to my recent unsubscription. The most interesting story in that issue was about 5 female Officer Cadets, and included an extensive interview with them. All of them said that they joined the SAF because they did not want desk jobs. Sadly, it seemed no one had told them that most female Officers get posted either to: 1) slack non-combat units, 2) Staff Officer positions or 3) Both.
The story proudly noted that the 5's all-girl team came 3rd in some OCS competition that included physical as well as mental challenges, beating 20 all-guy teams, thus subtly if not fully rebutting the common refrain that females are always weaker than males (and perhaps also the related argument about females and Slavery, but that is another issue). I would just like to add that the 6th person to swim across the English Channel was a woman, and Gertrude Ederle beat the time of the previous 5 men by 2 hours.
Lakiun also gets day-old copies of the Straits Times, intact except for a stamp on the 4D results which is magically supposed to deter hardcore gamblers. Thus, I remained reasonably appraised of goings-on. I, of course, could not receive my periodical in Brunei, but I brought along 2 issues, one of which I'd half-finished. To my supreme annoyance, however, the second issue disappeared before I'd finished it!
I found a bottle of "chromatically fragrance" glue in the medical centre. I sniffed it but it didn't have much of a smell. Screwed up girls will nonetheless keep smelling it, get addicted and their brains will turn to mush!
The medical centre had 2 terrapins, but one base medic, after hearing from an MO how sunlight causes skin to produce Vitamin D, left them in the sun for 2 days and they died. On the morning that their corpses were disposed of, the Commander visited the medical centre. Apparently the two events are somehow linked :)
The amount and variety of wildlife to be merely in the camp itself puts the old SMM to shame. Many of the permstaff keep mini-zoos, and some preserve the insects for display - fringe benefits.
At one point during the first week or so, I'd accidentally left my Organics Shampoo and Papaya Body Shop in the bathroom, and never saw it again. I was then reduced to buying low quality substitutes - Sunsilk Shampoo and Dettol Bath Gel.
I saw the Sound of Music on TV. Except that it was an Anime series called the Von Trapp family (http://www.animetoxic.com/prodetail.cfm?itemno=J202-634). How low can humanity sink? As He Who Must Not Be Named put its it, "my last lingering faith in humanity has been crushed by avalanche caused by anime yodelling from the bavarian alps".
Wild Force was on Malaysian TV but other people were watching a Taiwanese variety show so in the interests of communal harmony, I let them watch it.
One night I found a cockroach in the treatment. Having no insecticide at hand, I was forced to improvise. I splashed a bit of cetrimide on it and it scurried under a trolley to hide. I then threw a piece of gauze soaked in cetrimide onto it to flush it out. After that, I froze it with a jet of Cold Spray (Ethylchloride), poured more cetrimide on it and in the toilet, poured diluted Sudol solution (toxic!) onto it, before flushing it down the toilet bowl. I would've done as Chong See Eng said he used to do and plucked its legs out one by one, but I'm squeamish, so.
On one of the last days, I finally went outfield for about half a day since the others had sent in their uniforms already. At the site I was at, the water was a startlingly clear blue-green - even the water in small puddles. Is Brunei that clean? On the way back from the cover, I ate one packet of "Mixed Bean Longan Dessert". Besides containing a frightening amount of solids (doesn't SFI know that we want the liquid only, not the solids?), the liquid in the packet tasted of... Mooncake filling. Scary.
Security
Unlike most places in the SAF, Lakiun (and, I suspect, all SAF overseas camps) does not have an obsession with spurious "security breaches". This is because of several factors:
1) The base is manned by permstaff. They choose to get posted to Brunei and are not forced to do so. This is the same reason why regulars get away with flouting security regulations.
2) There is no MSD around to drop by from time to time to make spotchecks.
3) The base is slacker, offers more welfare and has a more friendly environment
4) Life there is horribly boring so they need to loosen up and allow laptops, cameras and the like or the permstaff will all go nuts and have to be flown back to Singapore to be warded at PMIC
In fact, the stakes are arguably higher at Lakiun - it is, after all, the premier training ground for many combat units. I'm sure the details of exercises, SAF training techniques and details of the terrain SAF troops are trained to fight on, if leaked, are more of a threat to security than my unit's Guard Duty list ('Restricted'), the guidelines for a military wedding (also 'Restricted') or indeed pictures of people in compromising solutions after having unspecified things done to them in bunk. Hell, they have Mindef Intranet access there also, so material on it can leak out.
All this just goes to show that security is a sham, used to oppress NSFs.
The Cookhouse
At the Lakiun cookhouse, training troops bring their own cutlery and cups and eat from compartmentalized metal trays. After their meals, they wash all three. This is something I have not had to do since OBS, but I'm not complaining, except that some people did not wash their trays properly, resulting in occasional unpleasantness while dining.
The water in Lakiun camp is treated with a generous dose of chlorine, and so tastes similar to, but not quite the same, as that on the Island of Doom (Pulau Tekong). Perhaps the mind-altering chemicals they add are different. At the cookhouse, the kind chefs make the drink at lunch time marginally more palatable by adding just enough syrup to overpower the taste of the chlorine - no more, but sometimes somewhat less. Whether they do not have receive enough syrup to make the cordial sufficiently concentrated or they use the excess to make drinks for themselves in bunk, I cannot say.
The food at the Cookhouse can be described in 4 words - Hot, Bad, Little and Repetitive. It is a killer combination indeed, perhaps evidence of a conspiracy afoot to enrich the canteen vendors.
Hot
Practically all lunches and dinners had at least one dish with chili or curry, often more. This was made worse by "stealth hotness" - the inclusion of chili in dishes that do not necessarily have to be cooked with it, and at first glance might not appear to contain it; for example, Sweet and Sour Chicken or chopped chili mixed into stir fried vegetables.
Bad
The food we got during the first few days was exceptionally bad. After that it improved and was just intolerably vile. I think often, combat rations would have tasted better than the cookhouse food.
Perhaps the worst culinary experience that I had in Brunei was at breakfast one morning. I had been on duty the previous day and so had to collect breakfast for the people in the sickbay. Before collecting their food, though, I decided to eat first. Bleary eyed, I noticed the server ladling what looked like glutinous rice onto my tray. This piqued my curiosity, but it was not until I put the first spoon of the "glutinous rice" into my mouth that I realised, to my horror, what had been cooked for Breakfast. It was actually Fried Bee Hoon, where each strand was only a few mm long and they all clumped together, and it tasted like fried rubber bands. After a few spoonfuls, I felt like puking, and ending up eating extra nightsnacks from the previous day. (They improved their cooking the next week, though, and the bee hoon was then actually quite tasty.)
Other notable items:
- their Nasi Lemak which seemed to have no salt and almost no "lemak" (Coconut Milk), only smelling vaguely of Coconut
- the Planta Margarine served during breakfast one day where the top of the tin contained yellow globs floating in a clear liquid. Below the yellow globs was a thick layer of an orange coloured paste that reminded me of ear wax
- what Vincent calls the "Kid's Value Meal", Lakiun's Pseudo-Western meal. It consisted of 2 Fish Fingers, a small piece of fried Spring Chicken, Fries (not all fully cooked), 2 small Buns and Cream of Mushroom soup. The second time we had it, they gave us some plain rice and maybe 4 baked beans (I kid you not) each as well
- the Nightsnack I got for the sickbay patients - doughnuts. Only thing is, the doughnuts had no sugar!!!
Little
Instead of 3 meat dishes, 1 vegetable dish and a full bowl of soup, as in other SAF cookhouses, Lakiun gives 2 meat dishes, 1 vegetable dish and half a ladle of soup. Meanwhile the servings are as small as or even smaller than, those in the other cookhouses. I doubt normal SAF cookhouses give you the promised 2500 calories per day - 75% of that is a more likely figure. For Lakiun, it's probably 50%. It is no wonder that people flock to the canteen in droves.
The first time we had Chicken Porridge, it was tasty, but the portions were minuscule and so doubly unfilling. I considered doing an Oliver Twist - "Please Sir. Sorry - Lance Corporal... Can I have some more?" but swiftly dismissed the idea. Meanwhile, Senior Specialists and above and permstaff got enough porridge since they had proper bowls instead of metal trays. The next week, we were given a more generous serving, but somehow the porridge was bland and tasteless, as if the aggregate taste of the porridge was fixed, and increasing the quantity cooked would decrease the average taste of each serving.
though on the first few days, senior ranking people and permstaff got a bonus dish during lunch and dinner
Repetitive
As if it were not bad enough, the cookhouse menu was also woefully limited. The menu repeated itself both within the week and between weeks, ie Monday's dinner was always the same, as was Friday's breakfast. Popular items included Fish Fingers and Fishcake Lemak.
There were some saving graces, nonetheless. Besides the first time we got Chicken Porridge (see above), meals were palatable when they cooked Fake Shark's Fin soup, Oyster Sauce Chicken and the time when they cooked Lor Chicken (without Lor sauce). Often, the vegetables were tasty but I suspect this is because of the oil and salt, and also because they were the least screwed up dish in the meal.
(Aside: On a wall of the cookhouse was a USMS "Participation Rate" board, monitoring how many USMS suggestions were made by the permstaff. This is how bureaucrats warp a good idea and implement it in such a way that it goes against the spirit of the idea - ideas cannot be forced and if you implement quotas, all you get are crappy ideas)
The Canteen
The first few days, I tried to dull my hunger by sleeping, but then we were forbidden to rest on the sickbay beds, so I had to draw more on my supplies, and visit the canteen discretely from time to time. I was successful in evading, if not detection, then confrontation, but with 4 days to go, my Acting CSM confronted me while I was in the canteen. With the words, 'If you'd performed during the run, I would let you come. Go back!", I was unceremoniously whisked from the prata queue and ran back with my tail in between my legs to the medical centre, there to sit placidly with an air of dignified, if tousled, serenity. It was a minor tragedy, but I'd grown sick of the canteen food already, had sufficient supplies and people could still buy drinks and snacks back for me. Meanwhile, the regulars patronised the canteen regularly, and some even went to the canteen immediately after meals at the cookhouse, testifying to the insufficiency of the cookhouse food; Anyhow, I care not - my time in this miserable, horrible unit is almost up, and as D Day approaches, I will soon have nothing to do with the Slave Masters ever again (if I'm lucky). My only concern is that, after I leave, they will be bereft of a target for their passions. I sincerely pray that they will not find anyone to take out their frustrations on, for there has been enough hurt caused already these past 10 months.
People had told me that the Lakiun canteen was grossly overpriced, but I found the prices mostly reasonable compared to Singapore, albeit slightly higher than most SAF canteens. By Brunei standards, though, the prices were high, which explains how they could afford to install satellite TV. The famous Lakiun prata, however, was cheaper than that found in Singapore - 50 cents for plain, and $1.00 for egg. The pratas tasted alright and came larger than the Singaporean ones - 2 plain pratas and 1 egg prata left me overly full. The quality and variety of the food, and the size of the portions were another thing, however, as the canteen vendors seemed inspired by the cookhouse's example. Fried Rice with 2 sausages and an egg, Fried Mee with the same, Chicken/Beef burgers, Fried Rice, Nasi Lemak - that was practically all they had. Furthermore, despite or perhaps because of their poor food, the canteen vendors have very bad attitudes, perhaps smug in the knowledge that they are the ones (indirectly) keeping the camp running.
Between the cookhouse and the canteen, I am at a loss to explain how the permstaff survive without going either crazy and withering from malnutrition.
(Aside: The shop in the canteen sold Cadbury Picnic, which I can't find in Singapore. Yeh.)
The Irritating Pussy and the Processed Cocoa Product
One day near the end of my confinement in Brunei, I made my way to the Isolation Sickbay to seek refuge from the harsh world above. However, my way was barred by a grey pussy which started meowing piteously at me, presumably since it had gone hungry since the sickbay patients had been discharged and were no longer able to feed it.
Despite my attempts to flank it, it adroitly scampered so as to block my path, but eventually the game of cat and mouse ended, and I managed to scurry into the Isolation Sickbay. The damn pussy, however, meowed outside for the next 20 minutes, disturbing my reverie.
Later, when I retreated to the Isolation Sickbay again, it was still there, begging for food. Now, I had just opened a pack of cheap, ersatz, Palm Oil-laden, un-Chocolatey Made In Malaysia Under License "Tango Bar" Fruit and Nut Chocolate, and the more I ate of it, the more sick I felt. It was so bad, I've dubbed it a "Processed Cocoa Product" (after my sister's "Processed Milk Products" for sliced cheese) for it was so bad that it was not fit to be called chocolate.
Seeking to kill 2 birds with one stone, I broke off some for the pussy but the chunk proved too big for it to handle. I then broke off a smaller chunk. The pussy nibbled at it for a while, then left it unfinished and begged me for some other food - a testament to the inferior quality of the chocolate.
Departure
In a pre-departure briefing, we were told that 2 signallers in 1997 were caught by SIB for stealing SIA pillows. They got 40 days in DB. The injustice of it rankles me, for a civilian would escape unscathed. Moral of the story: Don't travel with the SAF.
We were also told, during the briefing, to remove from our duffel bags and hand luggage the following: lighters, other flammable items like matches (they didn't tell us to remove those for the flight to Brunei - real sneaky, since a lighter is one of the required items for our webbing) and aerosol cans (even shaving foam), cutlery (interestingly, SIA provides metal cutlery during meals. I guess the air marshals are on high alert during breakfast in case someone tries to hijack the plane with a fork) and to remove batteries from our L-torches and keep them separately. In the civilian world, there is no such nonsense. What is the likelihood of the flammable material leaking, catching fire or otherwise being a fire hazard? If airlines were really so strict about the "no flammable items" rule, smokers worldwide would rise up in protest. Meanwhile, I got entrusted with the MO bag, and was contemplating threatening the pilot with hypodermic syringes filled with air, threatening him with a painful death by giving him an air embolism.
The SIA must love the SAF. They get dependable and predictable business, don't have to serve alcohol, the chance to utilise their planes when no sane person would otherwise travel instead of leaving them docked at the airport, no trouble with unruly or otherwise uncooperative passengers, and the chance to enforce all the extant unenforceable rules born of paranoia and bureaucratic whim.
For our R&R day, we transited to Jalan Aman Camp (JAC), an altogether more pleasant place than Lakiun, except that practically the entire camp was out of bounds to us and that many of the mattresses were Hamtaro mattresses, so the last images I saw before I fell asleep and the first images I saw when I woke up were of big-headed, round eared monsters with multiple cataracts in their gigantically deformed eyes acting cute.
I noticed that at the cookhouses of both camps in Brunei, almost all the kitchen staff were Malay. In JAC, they helpfully listed who was responsible for cooking which items (a good idea, incidentally, so you know who to blame if the food sucks), and I noticed that the sole non-Malay was responsible for preparing the Iced Water and the Plain Rice. This led me to recall my SMM platoon BBQ, when the Malays were most insistent about being responsible for preparing the food, and other's comments about how Muslims always wanted to prepare the food. Perhaps they are paranoid that someone will drop a bacon rasher in their curry.
I also met Haoxiang at JAC and we had a talk over (horrible) lunch. Among other things, he thinks I have too many stereotypes, but truthfully the only one I can think of is the "shrill, anorexic, chinese-speaking ah lian". Anyhow, stereotypes exist because very often (but importantly, not always) the are true.
I saw the following safety poster in JAC: "The hands of time can never be turned. What's done cannot be undone. Regrets should not be part of a soldiers' life. Follow safety regulations." Funny, that reminds me of the saga of my slavery.
Our R&R commenced with perhaps the 3 most miserable museum visits I've ever made. The first was the Royal Regalia Museum, home of the Royal Songkok. I think no one was interested in seeing the various ceremonial items. In my tentative wanderings, I found an exhibition on the Sultan's life, full of fulsome praise. I guess there are privileges to being a Sultan. I like museums, but this one was utterly devoid of anything remotely worth seeing. The only reason we were made to see it was to chew up the off they owe us and to improve inter-state ties (though I doubt the extent of the latter). Without a doubt, this was the worst museum I'd ever been to.
After that, we were bused to the misleadingly named Malay Technology Museum. I was expecting exhibits on how the Malays had mastered the arcane arts of turning Palm Oil into various useful substances, but was dumbfounded when I only saw exhibits on how rural Malays lived, built their kampungs and worked wood and metal. If this the best Technology the Malays have to offer? This was definitely the 2nd worst museum I'd ever been to, and the only remotely amusing or interesting thing was a black babbi (wild boar) I spotted underneath one mockup longhouse.
Finally, we saw the "Brunei Museum". This, at least, had some interesting exhibits about the Oil and Gas industry, and a fascinating collection of Islamic Art - Middle Eastern Korans, silverware and weapons with Koranic verses engraved on them, though the latter made me pause for thought: what are holy verses from a peaceful religion doing on weapons of death and destruction? So what then, made this a miserable visit? The air con had broken down! I managed to grab an ice cream cone before boarding the bus, though that turned out to be strategic mistake - better ice cream was on offer later.
The last item before dinner was shopping - well nigh 2 hours of it. I hold that it was a mistake giving bored teenage males 2 whole hours to shop, especially when they were forbidden to buy the only things worth buying (pirated DVDs, music CDs and VCDs) and the shopping centres were full of shops (even big departmental stores) selling a wide range of cheap pirated media. (Does no one respect intellectual property in Brunei? What are the police doing?) My beloved understudy embarked on a futile quest for Bruneian lifestyle magazines. I told him to look for those with tudung-clad women on the covers, but I guess he wanted a male lifestyle magazine, and Newman from Singapore was practically the only one on the newstands.
At the shopping centre we alighted at, there was a sign indicating the position of the embassy of the "Federal Republic of Germany". Said Republic not having existed for almost 14 years, I was intrigued, to say the least. Perhaps the place was stuck in a timehole. I also saw a pre-pubescent Malay girl in male attire, complete with a songkok. Curious, very curious.
While walking the aisles of a departmental store, I found Hawker equipment on offer, something you don't get in Singaporean shops. There was a bread slicer, a sugarcane machine ($990 for a more traditional model), an old fashioned ice-shaver ($220), a bean grinder machine, enclosed shelves to keep food hot, hot dog griddles, kebab machines and a mee maker. Now I know how much it costs to set up a hawker stall! At another part of the store were mini bomb bags - $0.20 each. I wonder if they're softer than the full-sized ones.
After all that was a buffet dinner. It was mediocre - they didn't replenish the food (so much for it being a buffet), the orange drink tasted like acqueous Redoxon Vitamin C and worst of all, they called the Bread and Butter Pudding simply "Bread Pudding" (oddly, I was the only one to add vanilla sauce to my pudding)!
Later we had more shopping. Many of us ended up sitting in Coffee Bean for a while - a testament to the relentless march of globalisation. Meanwhile Swee Shoon somehow got a free cup of tea from the cashier. Later, we saw that McDonalds was packed with 42SAR people.
Just as the shedding of locks on Enlistment Day is supposedly symbolic of the shedding of an old life, so was my disposal of various items I had gathered during my tenure as a slave symbolic of my forthcoming emancipation. Coming from my BMT days were my towel, a yellow toothbrush and a tube of Colgate toothpaste. From my early days in 42SAR were a green toiletries bag I found in the empty cupboard I claimed for my own, left by some guy who had ORDed and a pair of cheap slippers I'd bought for my fieldpack. A lousy thermometer, gotten during the SARS scare midway through my time in 42 joined everything else in the dustbin. Joining it was an Grey Army T-shirt I got just before leaving for Brunei. And finally, the Sunsilk shampoo and Dettol I threw away had been bought at Lakiun. The only thing missing was something from my SMM days.
Miscellaneous
Lancer
Outside the medical centre was this piece of driftwood embedded in concrete. An engraving at its base, which no one but me seemed to notice, read "He who trains hard will be blessed by the 'Knight of Sungei Temburong'" and was apparently set up by the Chief Instructor in 1984. What a good use for jetsam :)
I'm told the view from Mount Biang sucks. Apparently everyone was conned.
It was most novel hearing a Malay argue to a Chinese for gay marriage.
I forgot to take a picture of Bob, the Lakiun medics' pet millipede, for my friend 'Bob' to see. Damn.
Back in Sungei Gedong
I'm told that in one of 42SAR's companies, those who were excused from Exercise Lancer have been confined in camp since those who went for Lancer started their pre-exercise off, and will be confined till those who went for Lancer return from their post-exercise off. The warped logic behind this renders me speechless. 42SAR - a truly unique and outstanding unit, a wonderful place to be.
I think I know why 42SAR has embarked on a witch hunt for and crusade against plump NSFs. The regulars are probably upset that they have to get their BMIs below 27 or have their pay docked. Since shit rolls downhill and snowballs as it rolls, they decided to go one up and make the criterion for NSFs 25.
It seems that the people most enthusiastic about "encouraging" me are also those most responsible for tormenting me. Bah.
Someone who had OOCed from the Commandos commented that he preferred being in the Commandos to being in 42SAR, and I don't think he meant the "Honour and Glory" part. Gee.
General Slavery Matters
I wonder why some people are so fond of having guidelines and procedures for even the most minor of daily processes. Just as battle plans never survive the first contact with the enemy, so do carefully planned guidelines falter in the face of reality. Why can people not trust in the Invisible Hand to sort out trivialities?
Apparently in BMT, female recruits eat in the cookhouse when nobody else is around, their bunks have curtains and white tape cordons their company line off from the outside world.
Most people sign on for one or more of 4 reasons: 1) they're scholars, 2) they are greedy for the money, 3) they're sadists, 4) they can't get a job outside.
Miscellaneous (2nd Order of Miscellany)
According to the Lancer MO, Prickly Heat comes in two forms - pirated and non-priated. Powder in the 160g and 320g bottles is genuine and helps with rashes, but powder in the 150g and 300g bottles isn't. Hmm.
I saw someone extinguish his cigarette on the sole of his shoe. That is wrong. So wrong.
Weird song heard on a computer in Lakiun: "Fuck Her Gently" by "Tenacious D".
Pinstripe suits make one look like a gangster from Prohibition.
Many signs in Brunei have flowing Arabic script written below the Roman script. Quite strange since you don't see the arabic script on Malaysian signs.
Even though Brunei is a Muslim state, you see considerably fewer Bruneian women in tudungs than in Singapore. Then again, you also see proportionately fewer women on the streets, so maybe those who do venture outside are the more liberal sort.
The deceptive Malaysians are at it again. We all know the furore a few years back when a Malaysian company offered "Vegetable balls" that contained chicken (or was it fish?). Now, we have "Vegetable crackers" from "Miaow Miaow" which picture many vegetables on the packaging, but the only vegetable flacouring is Onion Powder. Worse, the crackers contain chicken powder!
One Lakiun medic claimed that "Boss" nightclub was a "certified" employer of university girls. Hmm.
Brunei is a pirate's haven - the pirated VCDs and DVDs there look original. The pirates evidently take more pride in their work than those in Malaysia, who make poor quality products which sometimes do not work. But they have some nerve - I saw not a few DVD 'Compilations' - the pirates had put 2 movies on the same disc, as well as a pirated Playstation retailing for $29.90.
On Cathay Pacific, people of all ages can order kids' meals. I wager they taste better than much of the other airline food.
Tim took a 5 week holiday in Europe. Wth?! He must be bankrupt now.
Quotes:
I saw pirated CD when I was in SMM doing guard duty. I just asked him where he bought it (caught someone with a pirated)
[On the arcane Lakiun cookhouse queuing system] Sometimes it's like that. They don't use their heads to think. They use their asses to think.
[On the rubbish dump at Lakiun being in building no 42] Did you notice the "42"? [Me: Yeah. What?] Cesspit. [Me: No lah - dustbin] Isn't it the same? You put shit in it.
[Ad for slimming centre] The first 50 FIL customers will enjoy delicious FREE food and beverage vouchers and much more! (free vouchers for delicious food and beverages)
[Cookhouse sign] Lakiun exotic soup
You're the most idle medic, I heard. [Me: Who told you?] Who told me? Ngan! *drags someone over* This, I call soldier. You... simi lan? [Translation: What the hell?] (a soldier)
[On someone: I think he cannot curse for one day] Mei2 you3 lei1. April 2nd wo3 mei2 you3 curse... April 2nd my birthday (Translation: That's not true. I didn't curse on April 2nd because it was my birthday)
[On river crossing] Most important is to look out for sharks (alligators)
[Me: 8 more days!] 8 more days? [Me: Before we get to leave here {Lancer}) I have 5 more months. [Me: Have fun, sir]
[On the cookhouse food] Sucks right. That's why you got see me go cookhouse or not? (don't see me going to the cookhouse)
[On the cookhouse food] At first, I liked the food... Maybe it's (Ed: the food) different for permstaff... After a while, sian... Curry every day.
[On Lakiun] You'll see people backstabbing each other. All nothing to do (They all have)
[Me] I am sealed to secrecy (sworn)
[On us] Kan4 ni3 men2 na4 me4 slack, wo3 na2 li3 ke2 yi3 su1 gei2 ni3 men2? [Translation: Seeing how slack you are, I can't possibly lose out to you in slacking!)
[On cold spray] Actually it's quite cold.
SAF stands for "Stupid Armed Forces".
[Me on not playing Monopoly with the others: So sad, I'm ostracised] Because you're RJ, you're too intelligent. They're scared you'll plot against them.
I've just realised that our battalion sucks. How can you win in Red Alert by building APCs?
[On someone reading her rank wrongly - 2WO instead of 1WO] Why do you demote me? Huh? Want to die is it? (Do you want to die?)
[Me on the Song of Silver Frond: Did you enjoy the story of pedophilia?] Not really. Sucks. I'll never ever read a Catherine Lim book. (book again)
You know why 42 is so fucked up? Because of fucking BHQ.
Zero times one explain'nation (Zero one times explanation)
[On doing area cleaning] You're not from Philippines, you're from Singapore. Don't let people treat you like a servant. (the Philippines)
[On doing area cleaning] See? You sweat. You sweat already, I feel guilty. I do DM I don't ask people work one, because I also don't work. (When you sweat, When I'm the DM [Ed: Duty Medic], to work)
My briefing, never say cannot touch air stewardess - doesn't mean you can go and touch (During my, I didn't say you could not touch the, that doesn't, touch them)
[On "Tango Bar" - cheap Malaysian chocolate] It's not very sweet... It doesn't taste very much like a chocolate.
[On a phone call] He's looking for someone called "nua" (Nah - "Nua" means "soft/weak" in dialect)
I'm a staff nurse at SGH. [Me: So young?] Staff nurse [level/grade] 1. [Me: I was under the impression that staff nurses were all 40 year old women] Do I look like a 40 year old woman?
[On getting a grossly undercooked chicken wing while doing COS cookhouse duty at Lakiun] I deserve better treatment.
[On the girls who went on his school trip to Germany] They do watch porn lah, trust me.
[On Lakiun's flag lowering music] Is that the Bruneian National Anthem?
authourised personnel only (authorised)
[On cigarette butts in Brunei] Don't anyhow throw or the sooltan will come and shoot you (throw them anyhow, Sultan)
[On 'fast cold' packs] These are the goods ones, those are the bads ones (good, bad)
The hands of time can never be turned. What's done cannot be undone. Regrets should not be part of a soldiers' life. Follow safety regulations (soldier's) (???)
[On the buffet] Go ahead. Nobody is stopping you. [Me: For once.]
[ST] The NKF's current reserves - which could last the group three to four years - is not unduely large, he added. (can, are not unduly)
[ST] Razer, the American maker of mouses for gamers (mice)
[Pilot] I know you've been in the bush for very long, but guys: if you continue staring at the stewardesses, you're gonna burn holes in their kebayas.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
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