Archive | October, 2005

ICT FO Camp Day Three; Part Two (Disco Night, and the Informal NightWalk)

27 Oct

            Back in SP we all showered, and waited patiently for the next event, Disco Night.

            Soon the moment came. All of us were assembled in T2011, and heard speeches by Chalk, the Club President,and other OC members of high position, pretty much else anyone who wanted to speak.

            The OC members gathered and did their dance which we saw during Shim Night. They invited members of the audience to dance with them. Suddenly the lights turned off and *everyone* was invited to dance. A disco light was turned on, and a smoke machine gave the place a cosy feeling (terrible for asthmatics, of course.) The music was deafening. The whole place was transformed into a discothèque!

            We danced to our hearts’ content, occasionally forming lines that snaked round but didn’t go anywhere. Someone, I think it was Chalk, operated a strobe light. The room was regularly smoked and when that happened we could barely see each other. There were so many people squeezed into one room. It was somewhat comforting to know that the floor could support 5.0kNs per square metre.

            I discovered that Chalk was missing from his post and busied myself by being strobe light operator in his absence. I suitably flashed the light according to the rhythm of the music (the light was actually just a desktop lamp, but a very blinding one.)

            The revelry ended after some hours. It was now 3am, and the OCs permitted us to sleep. The room, they said, would remain open, as a lounge (not a discothèque!) where those who didn’t want to sleep could engage in learned discourse.

            Amazingly, no one budged, and the OC members repeated their announcement. Still no one moved. So entertainment was staged for us. Several people who could perform singular acts were called upon. There was Bin with the mighty chest, Bun who was practically a human orchestra, Bash who could perform painful movements to make muscles budge, and Zacf, who could lengthen and twist his arm in alarming ways. Finally most of us retired to bed. I wasn’t feeling sleepy yet.

            I soon found out (rather discreetly) that there was to be an informal NightWalk. It was all very hush-hush, and the senior warned us not to tell the other seniors, due to the risky nature of a NightWalk. Who knows what we may encounter.

            After collecting the people who wished to take part, we set off. There were several people from my group, and a few members of BullShit as well.

            We went first to the Red Bridge. It conected T21 to T22, and had its share of stories; of people who fell down from it; of the apparitions sighted there. Our senior (whose name I shall not disclose) took these stories with a pinch of salt, and reported to us his findings after examining school records and histories for sensational deaths concerning the Bridge, and apparitions seen. There were no such stories. (Poppycock!)

            We sought to retrace the route of the original NightWalk. We were led all the way to the Workshops, on the other side of the campus.

            These Workshops had an interesting feature. They were situated in pairs, and had as an emergency exit a central corridor. Placed back to back, the central corridor created a sort of tunnel, with emergency doors placed at regular intervals on either side. Turn off all the lights and they are *very* dark corridors. Quite an effort to walk through them alone, though that *can* be done. They were the site of many booby traps. Our senior pointed out to us the location of a dead body (stationary), in an emergency fire hose box, and another dead body (falling), that was to fall at the end of the corridor. Other than these, live humans (usually the more mischievious seniors) could hide in the alcoves of the corridor and startle us in any number of ways: by making unearthly sounds, or just startling us. These types of booby traps were the most versatile, and thus the most unexpected. Just because you hear screams ahead of you doesn’t mean that trap would still be there. The senior could move to another place, and you would be left in great suspense as to whether that person is still there, since it’s so dark that he would go to another location undetected. Then you would have to approach it with caution (lots of it).

            We approached a junction further on, whilst walking in the yellow-box corridors that connected the different blocks. Our senior shined the torchlight along the left corridor. It illuminated, at the end of the corridor, a human figure walking past. Only I and our senior witnessed it, us being at the front of the line. We both looked at at each other questioningly, "Should we treat this as an apparition sighting or not?"

            The figure, when it passed briefly, looked like an Indian. Perhaps one of the security guards or foreign workers. We dismissed it was an apparition, and continued with our journey. The rest did not see it.

            Eventually we reached our bunks. It was about 5am (or was it 6?) and the lounge was still open, though the people inside were inanimate. Some had fallen asleep, curled up in every nook and cranny, looking like dead bodies all over the place. I went back to my bunk and slept. The sight that greeted me when I opened the bunk door perpetuated the metaphor of corpses lined up in a morgue. The people were bound in sleeping bags, arrayed in neat lines, and the room was eerily silent. I could almost imagine joss sticks before the bodies. (Aiyoh.)


ICT FO Camp Day Three; Part One (The Excursion to Sentosa)

14 Oct

On the third day, I awoke and properly attended to personal hygiene. Unfortunately I was late for breakfast and only managed to eat two slices of bread, downed with gulps of the unpalatable "Ovaltine".

Then we were told to find our hidden team banners. After searching high and low, we finally found it around a corner. Luckily one of our group members thought to look there, or else we’d be stuck finding it all day.

Then we were told to proceed to Sentosa. We chose to take the MRT, then bus.

My associate’s group chose the taxi. Their group was divided among two taxis, and the one behind was instructed to follow the one in front. Unfortunately the one in front didn’t have any idea how to get to Sentosa and the one behind couldn’t follow the taxi in front due to a red traffic signal. They found out they were the first to get to Sentosa but it wasn’t accepted because the other half of the group was still en route. And Hi-5 was close behind. Well, too bad for them.

There was a great hurry when all of us who took the train realised that the NEL train was coming in 1 minute. All 50 or 60 of us rushed to the platform ("Wah! Like catching train like that!" An apt statement!)

Same thing happened for the bus. "Tooo the Palawan Beach!!"

Once there, we rested and were briefed on the upcoming game, Water Strike.

I quicken the pace here. There isn’t much to tell, and so my sentences shall consist mainly of little mentions of things as they happen to me and as they occur to me. Now, on with the beach games.

It appeared that Summit was filling their water bombs even when they weren’t supposed to.

Due to the unnatural placement of the different groups during Water Strike, each of us did not know which team was which. For lack of suitable nomenclature, we resorted to naming conventions: Summit was labelled the Coconut Tree Group, and Cherokee was labelled the Shelter Group, to state a few examples. These names were indicative of the locations of the respective groups.

Our group was one of the first to fall, due to an unbelievably accurate hit by Summit, what with all the people waving around trying to protect our circular paper target. I was an Immortal, and sought to protect my groups’ target by  means of reclining and other related positions.

So half our group joined Summit (the Coconut Tree Group) and my half joined Ozone, my associate’s team. They had an admirable supply of bombs, and were invincible, until all the remaining 4 or 5 teams decided to attack them all at once. I as a defender was caught in the ensuing melée (a violent free-for-all), ending up very wet and covered with sand. The target had gaping holes all over, and thus the game was ended. Time for lunch!

During lunch I and my associate contemplated the reasons as to why so many Indian nationals had been called upon to work on a small patch of land beside a road nearby. Surely only three or four would suffice.

Then it was time for the playing of assorted games. Blazerz performed well during Captain’s Frisbee™ and Dodgeball. We played for the rest of the day.

During dinner a whole group of Temasek Polytechnic students came and ate near our area. My associate quipped that Temasek and Singapore are one and the same country, therefore we were allies and should not feel threatened. Despite several bombings, we gave three cheers to them (Hip-Hip-Hooray!) and amiably departed.

Back in SP we all showered, and waited patiently for the next event, Disco Night.