Basket.

Only Tuesday and it's already been a torrid week. Well, I'm now itching to find out what wondrously unpleasant surprises the new month holds.

I am drowning in paper and I have no time to write that really long rant which always makes me feel like there is hope after all.

I have not been posting much because I have been fucking tired. I returned to work immediately after coming back from OBS and the fatigue continues to take its toll. Gone are the days when I could snatch a quick handful hours' sleep and go to school fresh enough in the morning. Ever since I began teaching, I have no problems sleeping anymore, because as I have realised, it is an unbelievably draining job.

Anyway, as we all should know, one of our local Crown Princes recently felt the full force of military law. Yes, a reprimand - the full force, as I said. Anyway, somehow this has become a big issue with the "blogosphere" (I fucking hate that word) and even print media filling with all sorts of opinions, perspectives and unnecessarily complex analyses of the situation.
Honestly, what the fuck is the big deal? I could sum the whole thing up for you in one sentence.

Prime Minister's son believes he is somehow invincible to common military practices due to being Prime Minister's son, contravenes them, SAF grows a pair for once and punishes him, although lightly.

A pretty long sentence, but one sentence nonetheless.

My view? He was let off lightly - and PM's son or not, he had better know his place from now on.

End of issue.

There, was that so hard?

Next, to comment on the fawning letters that have unsurprisingly appeared in today's print media. The Malay phrase "angkat bola" comes readily to mind - for the uninitiated, it means literally "carrying balls". That is, fawning praise and flattery, for someone who overreached himself in a fit of ego. Did the right thing? Perhaps, but with the right intentions and in the correct manner? Rather questionable, I would say. But that does not seem to matter to our proud sycophants.

Well, I am back after four days of sun, sand, surf and seeing most of Pulau Ubin. It was tiring, but overall an extremely positive experience. I would certainly be very glad to have colleagues like this in future, as we navigate the minefields and booby-traps of plotting the future of our great nation.

It did help that many things were tinged with familiarity. From the dormitory being referred to as "bunk" and coming complete with a store and store check to our land expedition, which was a Nav Ex minus helmet, SBO, rifle and military discipline, few things were completely new to the males of the group. Not that we carried the hefty backpacks with ease, but at least we were used to the weight. And no artillery drills this time or leopard-crawling through mimosa. Also our tent was almost completely waterproof, which a flimsy green bashar would quite emphatically not have been. I could go on, but you get the idea.

The one thing completely new to me, of course, was the water expedition. The last time I so much as touched sea water was more than ten years ago. Well, I certainly got an excess of it this time around, and now my question is: why the fuck would anyone want to swim in the sea arouns Singapore? If it is anything like the sea around Ubin, and hopefully it is not, then it is a green, polluted, unpredictable bubbling substance with a distinctly unpleasant taste.

That aside, it was a fun experience, although most of that probably has to do with the fact that we were extremely fortunate. It was a cloudy day and the normally venomous Singaporean sun was meek by its own exacting standards. Still enough to give me light sunburn, though, but I'm certainly not complaining. In any case, I rowed for five hours, eleven kilometres up and down the Ubin coast, 2 people in a boat meant for three, and I think I can definitively say I did very well indeed.

Cooking a meal outdoors was novel, too, especially the rice. Personally, I did the canned curry chicken, but the people in charge did a magnificent job with the rice, albeit of course aided by our instructor. Who possessed experience in spades and was an all-around good guy, even though he referred to us as the "stupidest bunch of scholars [he] had ever seen. Possibly due to the fact that some of us commented on that the sea was salty on our first immersion in the shallows. Hm.

Ironically, my best night's sleep was in the tent. It rained and thus was cool, yes, but also because the dormitories were unbearably hot. And bright. And full of vile stinging insects. The situation was not helped by the fact that I have something of an aversion to insect repellent, to the extent that at times I would rather put up with multiple bites than put on repellent. Especially the SAF variety, which I firmly believe should instead be classed as an industrial solvent of high toxicity. It has been said to melt plastic and I have little doubt about the veracity of that statement. At no time whatsoever in all my outfield activities during NS did I apply repellent - but I did, this time, before we set off. It worked well, but I wonder how much higher are my risks of deadly cancers in later life.

All in all, a very positive experience. We can talk about the value of teamwork all we want, but it is truly an amazing, heartwarming sight in action. That will be the enduring lesson I shall take back from this course past.

The new (ok, not so new by now) RJ continues to befuddle me. Sheer size is a problem, but a bigger problem is the incredibly convoluted design. Combined, these two factors contrive to make me wander in circles for inefficiently long periods before I finally bash my way to my destination. God knows Mt Sinai was bad enough with the split levels, but at least it was small. Here, corridors go on forever and I need a bloody GPS.

In addition, the parade square is now so vast that I can barely hear the commands. In fact, I missed the first one, so the national anthem caught me off guard. I could barely make out Hodge's and Mr Leong's features, although the latter's distinctive "Morning, College" was exactly the way I remembered it. Yes, and he still makes the bulk of the announcements.

So in case you haven't inferred by now, I'm back to teaching at my alma mater. More accurately, I'm back to teaching only because it is my alma mater. I would have flatly turned down any other school, except RI, as this opportunity was one I had always been waiting for. Fortunately, the sheer scale of things these days is just about the only difference; most of my own teachers are still in place (and on seeing me, moaning that they're too young to have ex-students back as teachers already), most of the old terminology and tricks students use exactly identical (caught someone trying to sneak quality reading time during my GP lesson today, confiscated the book and exhorted him to "improve your technique" to the general laughter of his classmates. And "floating bodies".) and, of course, standards remaining very high indeed (although all my ex-tutors grouse that they are slipping. Maybe it's a nationwide thing. Also they said *our* class was hardworking...!) Campus aside, I felt perfectly at home, and my juniors were exactly the way I expected them to be: S03 quieter, S06 quite a bit more active. Unfortunately, failed to get A01. Would have liked to see the Arts Stream of present and compare it to the Arts Stream of past.

All in all, it was an excellent first day. No problems settling in; I would be worried if there were. Fit in like a glove, I know the students and understand them perfectly. It has been a blast, and it will continue to be.