Count your blessings

Hello, and welcome to 2020.

It has been a year of mythical regard, what with society’s visions of flying cars and monorails (and Malaysia’s Wawasan 2020). But life is stranger than fiction, and the power of nature is on full display in these times.

Everywhere I have seen blessings, where others have only seen curses. Stay at home—do more! Social distancing—more space! No social gatherings—global gatherings! Truly the magic of the internet has made the world smaller and have allowed us from far away to communicate with each other.

I have finally been able to put in work on my magnum opus that I began exactly ten (10!) years ago (by the lunar year 😁🌝), a compilation of my learnings and innovations on Haunt Event planning, with their related stories. Indeed, Rome was not built in a day and I could not hope to complete it by any artificial deadline. I’ve learnt so many new things that I felt obsolete one day and enlightened the next. I am thankful for everything that has occurred to me.

For many things, it is extremely uncertain what will happen. But I believe that if we are genuine, sensible and practical, the important things in life will return. We can already see some semblance of normalcy (which I hope is sustainable), but let’s pray for better fortunes and prioritise the productive.

“The gift of choice, [is] the gift that’s given to you that nobody can take away from you. You have unlimited choices. If you make the wrong choice you can try to correct it with another choice and make it right. Your life is the most precious gift you’ll ever have. And it’s the only one you have. You’ll come into this world alone. You will leave alone. Who you meet in between, is the challenge of how you deal with your life. Remember, no matter how bad something is in your life, it has a time limit. But also remember, no matter how good [something is] in your life, that too has a time limit.” 

—Kathy Buckley

Unfinished Business

Nearly 4 days later, what I didn't do continues to haunt me. There is always next year, I say, but the wait is torturous—and even then, what I didn't do continues to haunt me.

I always take great pride in planning everything to the last detail, and having a list of things to accomplish. So when something I absolutely look forward to, make great preparations for—no, *extraordinary* preparations for—does not get achieved, firstly, I have myself to blame, and then I can point the finger at other things.

Nobody will understand, because no one has even tried. It is too easily dismissed; it is deep. What on the surface seems superficial, to me has become my sustenance. You know how after some time one looks forward to the same little pursuits, the highlights of every year? That's how it has become for me. And the worst part is, it is never guaranteed and the people are *never* constant. It's like your hometown; over the years, everything changes around you, and although you change as well, you are only hanging on to fragile memories which no one will care about.

I tell myself, it takes time—everything will pass, eventually. But the reality remains. The sliver of comfort I can take in this is that well, some things have already been decided for the future. But there is that bitter taste in the mouth: what did I come for—work? Why did I linger? Why didn't I get there faster? Why did I sleep in the day? Useless, it was. Why waste half the day? It's not the first time I've sacrificed for this, anyway. For them—anything! As the last legitimate event, why not pull out all the stops and then laugh about it afterwards? Too many things went wrong, too few things went well.

You could say, "Concentrate not on what didn't happen, but on what did." I tried. It backfired. Some things *did* go exactly to plan. But what *didn't* happen was so huge and so basic that it stares at me in the face every time I don't see my face. Because it is a personal choice, a personal plan, not fulfilling it gnaws at you slowly from the inside.

I now depend on a new but wholly antisocial event to uplift me. I hope it goes some way to mending the open wounds that remain. It is completely different by nature, so I don't expect closure at all. But if I plan my day, and take a step back and sense what is important, I may be able to heal some things. But nothing will compare to a hundred and thirty people over a fire by the sea.

In the meantime, what I didn't do will continue to haunt me.

 

24 May 2011 1:15 AM

I Am

Fiercely Secretive

Sometimes

Irrationally so.

Do we need to make something known

If there is no need for it?

Do we need to say something

If it does not serve any purpose?

 

We were not on the same page

29 October 2013

A tension. Myself: a bridge, an 'awkward-lessening agent', reducing implied animosity.

Why the current dormancy? It should be a time of great fervency! We should be furiously debating and exchanging ideas!

Is this what happens when strangers meet to create? A cold, nonchalant ignorance? Is this professionalism?

If it is, I don't prefer it.

Most friction occurs when the intentions of a person is not the same as the intentions of the others. One tries to mould someone, but if they are not willing, nothing results. Even worse if they don't tell each other their true intentions.

But we have seen that if intentions align, magic results. Fierce loyalty. Fervent ardor. Selfless sacrifice. Without question. Without reward.

If we can form an organization with these very attributes—all passionate, with the exact same goal, and willpower to do it—we are three-quarters of the way there.

Night Cycling!!

Night Cycling!

This is an activity so niche, everyone has different ideas of it, each treating it in their own way. Some view it as simply cycling in the night, with all the bells and whistles so proper to cycling, but I regard it as a grand nocturnal adventure lasting till the next morning, with a loosely defined route you don't even have to follow and rules you don't even have to obey! It's about the journey, not the destination.

The first night cycling I ever attended, on the 23rd of December 2005, was a large affair, with 35 participants divided into two groups and travelling on a mixture of pavement and road (mostly pavement). There was no fancy traffic police or even a safety van tailing us ("Ain't nobody got time for that!") and as far as I know, the only administrative matter was the actual rental of bikes from the shop, which we got at the bulk price of $7, red lights included. We were extremely lucky that nothing serious happened. Travelling from East Coast Park to City Hall via Geylang, Kallang, and the Esplanade, with such a large number of participants (some of whom were not so experienced themselves), was no joke. The only mishap—namely, a broken handlebar—was treated with good ol’ duct tape and a dollop of confidence. By the end of it we felt like we had completed a marathon. Such adventure! It was a definitive experience by which all subsequent night cyclings were measured.

Myself, Nadiah, Nasyiba (binti Sahari ;), Yazid, Ira, Gabriel, Idham. And behind the camera is Hasyim =)

This time we were a smaller group of 8, still more than 4 (thankfully), but much more manageable than 35! (Previous night cyclings had averaged only 4 attendees out of more than 10 invited.) The unique thing was that each of us didn't know more than 3 other people in this group. We had decided to open up the activity to any friends as may be sporting enough to join in. Therefore the rest were unknown to us, being friends of friends. Socially awkward, yes, but the good nature and sportsmanship amongst ourselves mitigated the awkwardness somewhat. After settling the rental of bikes and a short supper at Burger King, we began at about 11.30 PM. We headed towards Fort Road at the beginning of East Coast Park.

Sudden roar of Malay kompangs by the sea—perhaps there was going to be a wedding tomorrow!

Just before Fort Road, we stole into an underpass and magically emerged near Jalan Daliah on the other side, in order to avoid the tiresome road crossings at the ECP/Fort Road exit. After inflating tyres & purchasing drinks at Esso we set off in the direction of Tanjong Rhu.

And so night cycling begins in earnest!

Ira nearly got knocked down by a taxi entering the carpark.

I executed a nearly flawless curb jump, much to the chagrin of the rest, who didn't have time to follow suit because I suddenly turned into the kerb.

We soon reached Gardens by the Bay East. Now this is a lesser-known sibling of the popular Gardens by the Bay South, the one with all the supertrees and whatnot. Gardens by the Bay East only contains undulating meadows and little lakes and 'natural' streams—a Botanic Gardens Part 3, if you will. And it is absolutely dark, too! We nearly fell into a lake crossing bridges without railings, my goodness.

That treacherous bridge without railings.

The bottom of Benjamin Sheares.

Marina Barrage, Gardens by the Bay South, the Helix Bridge and finally we were at the 'black' 7-Eleven at Marina Bay Sands opposite Avalon, so-called because the signage is back-lit, creating a silhouette effect. Quite classy.

We reached Sentosa at 2.00 AM (just as planned!) and sought to explore the island a bit. It was quite chaotic, though. Resorts World Sentosa was not built for cyclists (or for that matter, the wheelchair bound) and so we spent an inordinate amount of time circling the place, trying to get somewhere. Finally with advice from Gabriel we climbed ramps and slopes and ultimately went up in a lift, coming face-to-face with the Merlion.

Short break at a convenient 7-Eleven nearby; everybody couldn't tahan, super hungry. Then up a zig-zag ramp in complete darkness, aided only by our night-vision. We ended up behind Mount Imbiah, and from there an excruciating 10-minute climb up a gradual slope to the front of the building.

Then disaster struck!

Gabriel's gears broke! The metal piece attaching them to the rear dropouts gave way and simply split clean into two, leaving a tiny bit of metal still bolted to the dropout. We tried to fix it using cable ties taken from various parts of our bicycles (the girls' hairpins and needles were extremely useful in undoing them) but after barely a moment's cycling, they loosened. Gabriel had to propel himself with his legs all the way to Palawan Beach 7-Eleven, looking absolutely ridiculous seated on a bike with legs flailing.

There we purchased a dishcloth and borrowed a penknife from the cashier. A kind fisherman lent us whatever cable ties he had and two rolls of duct tape, and we managed to string everything together in a sustainable fashion, only needing Gabriel to adjust the derailleur every few minutes or so to keep the chain on the right track. The only drawback of it was that he was restricted to the 'granny' gear (read: lowest gear) behind. Well at least he'd have no trouble climbing slopes.

It was now 6 AM. Three hours wasted on this most unfortunate occurrence. Since it was already morning prayer time for the Muslims, we headed towards the mosque opposite Vivocity, using one "heck of a shortcut" back to the Merlion, as Hasyim would put it.

Nadiah's chain came off at the entrance of the bus park. Whilst fixing it a bus suddenly appeared out of nowhere and swerved into the bus park, nearly hitting us in the process! Crazy bus driver.

And there I was wondering what the name of the mosque was. Wak Tanjong lah, Wak Temenggong lah. Actually the full name, as written in Jawi script at the entrance was Masjid Temenggong Daeng Ibrahim, Johor Darul Takzim. My Jawi was not so bad after all! #achievementunlocked

We rode back by the safest way, which was exactly the way we came. Gabriel's gears held up excellently. It could even correct itself if the chain came off, after lots of rattling and clicking. Thank God for the cable ties!

By the time we reached the end of Gardens by the Bay East, I could see signs of zombification. According to Arshak (an associate of mine from the DMIT Club), when you're suffering from lack of sleep, two things can happen: either you become super tired or you're super high. Both were apparent. Idham, having cycled his own bike from Pasir Ris the night before (and had to cycle back there later!), looked ghastly pale. Hasyim, on the other hand, was yelling at the top of his voice! His headphones lent little credence to the fact that he was singing along to an MP3 player.

Eventually we reached East Coast Park. We stopped at a shelter just before the bike shop to clean up the cable ties around the damaged derailleur and make it presentable. The plan was to simply return the bikes and not say a word. I mean, it wasn't our fault! Nothing was lost, only wear and tear caused by a lack of maintenance. I got back onto my bike to cycle to the shop. It was then I heard a curious squeaking sound.

My rear tyre was flat.

Aiyah.

What the—? Of all things to happen at this time?! We resolved to walk the short distance to the bike shop. Lucky we were nearly there!

Hasyim went first, followed by myself. The bike shop man didn't notice the flat tyre. I handed him the red lights we detached from the bikes to get the cable ties, saying that they "came off". Gabriel rolled his bike in. The man glanced over the bike.

"This one, spoil ah?"

He eyed the derailleur, peacefully wrapped in its cocoon of duct tape. Our hearts froze.

"Yah, a bit, can fix one." I tried to be as calm as possible. Gave him the receipt. He took a look at it. The girls returned their bikes one by one.

"Okay," he waved us off.

We made our escape!

I half-expected all the shopkeepers to come running after us (brandishing pitchforks and knives), demanding some explanation, but nothing of the sort happened. A huge sigh of relief.

We bade goodbye and good luck to Idham who would continue the long arduous journey back to Pasir Ris where he came from. By now he was half-alive. Gabriel would take a straight bus home. As for the rest of us? A McDonald's breakfast!

It had been a night of highs (literally), and lows. We climbed Imbiah Hill, crossed treacherous bridges, tore down slopes at great speeds, and fixed the most unfixable of mishaps. Never mind! One learns from experience. We may've been caught unawares now, but we sure as hell will be ready in the future.

Next time, we shall come prepared!

38 KM!!

 

What if NightWalk…?

This post was begun on June 22, 2011 at 10:11PM and I only decided to post it today, after a dawning revelation.

********************

"........the NightWalk is cancelled!"

–ICT FOC 05/06, May 17, 2005 at 2.50AM, after Battle Royale finished.

And so begins a question of What If... "What if NightWalk was not cancelled? What if it piqued my interest early on? What if I had time to document and know everything about the school before I took part in FOC 06/07? What if—?"

After more than 10 NightWalks, looking back on this, it is a shame—an extreme shame, that I didn't go through it in a virgin FOC setting, when I was completely unfamiliar with the geography of Singapore Polytechnic. Once you become familiar with the twists and turns, the idiosyncrasies of the location, the fear of the unknown lessens. Therefore the best time to experience a NightWalk is when you don't know the place well, which means: when you are a freshie!

But it just goes to show how the ICT Club FOC Organising Committee placed great importance on the campers' welfare. They'd rather us sleep properly than be tired. Then again, NightWalk shouldn't have been placed after Battle Royal. We freshies were dead tired ("A NightWalk? At 2.50am?!") and daylight was fast approaching. I wonder what the NightWalk committee felt then, when the momentous decision was made to cancel NightWalk. Everyone must have been disappointed. Nevertheless, what's passed is past. We have since learned from our mistakes, and now DMIT Club never puts two major night activities in the same night for FOC.

Today, SP is a different place. The school management is more privy to the great interest in NightWalk. But they are taking it in a negative way. Sometimes the rules are relaxed, and NightWalk goes on as usual. But the main sentiment is one of disapproval. I don't know whether it is because of students' carelessness, or conservative thinking amongst the management.

In terms of carelessness, noise is an issue. Screams at night draw calls from residents to the police hotline, which in turn alarm the school management. Conservativeness dictates that all activities must end by 11pm, and resume at 7am the next day. Even a NightWalk. Which is rather ridiculous to me. The most recent ruling recommends that all camps be held outside school, including Orientation Camps. Honestly I don't know how an Orientation Camp is to be held without the Campus in attendance.

There is also renewal and relentless renovation. Previously forested areas with a foreboding presence are cleared to make way for some newfangled study corner. Old buildings are bulldozed without mercy. With sparse commemoration. I still haven't got over the loss of our dear MLT2 and Childcare Centre, and probably never will. (Abit sad.) But to the builders' credit, a sinister path has been cut through the hill where the old Childcare Centre once stood.

Due to the presence of 3 (!) construction sites in SP now, the FOC of 13/14 shall have its sleeping quarters at Terror Sea campsite in Sembawang. I had once asked before, why not try a NightWalk in the campsite? We could do with a refreshing challenge. But once you do it outside school, they will never know a NightWalk is possible in SP. Therefore I stand resolute in the idea of continuing to do FOC NightWalks, specifically, in school. Campsite NightWalks can wait till ICE camps etc, where campers are mostly students already savvy with the school terrain (where a NightWalk would be on familiar, comforting territory) and wish to have a different experience in an unfamiliar location.

"Hold steadfast to our tradition of NightWalk in SP, whether outdoors with ample effort to ensure darkness and isolation, or in conjoined classrooms with tons of partitions."

Rest assured that the tradition will continue.

 

The Amazing Race! (ICT FOC Day 2; Part 2)

********************
MAY 17, 2005 AROUND 10 AM
Later on we gathered in the T19 Foyer (or Lobby, as some prefer to call it). We were instructed to form radiating lines around a yellow pillar. Then we were told to feel sleepy. All of us stood with eyes closed.


Suddenly someone whispered in my ear, "Psst! Open your eyes! Come!...Just follow!"
I was led all the way to FC6 on the 2nd floor, where I hid. It was fully lit, although there wasn't a soul there, save for the painters and cleaning uncle (who were all wondering what I was doing there.) I waited.
The cleaning uncle came and asked for one of the remaining brunch set meals. I assented to his request. The sight of me hiding in that corner evidently amused him.
Finally my team found me! We went back to the foyer to get our first Clue.
And so we went to the Moberly, untangled ourselves; to SP CARE, where we created a cheer even the Game Master forgot; to the Childcare Centre, where I was blindfolded to find something, and where the Clue led us outside campus (finally!). Something about an immobile Mercedes, we headed to Orchard towards its suspected location, courtesy of Timothy. The Race began, proper!


In the MRT train Mark did his sleeping thing again whilst standing holding onto a handgrip.
Nous arrivons! We discover that Cherokee is ahead of us by one road crossing.
We had to pass long pieces of food from mouth to mouth. Not for the more hygienic.
The Next Clue led us to the Orchard Geodesic Dome (it's *Not* a golf ball), and we used anything we had to knock down some stubborn drink cans. The Game Master didn't cover the gaps on the sides, though, so the Stray Items Collector was kept busy. I should have brought a longer umbrella, so I could hit more cans.
Then to Lucky Plaza, where we searched for people and blew up condoms. The general public was amused.
Our next stop was the Istana Park. Halfway along the journey there, we stopped to repose ourselves. Half of us went to an Old Chang Kee stall to eat, and the other half went to a nearby building's toilet. Some of us did both. (The building was the Heeren.)
Then Hi-5 passed us!
We quickly gathered ourselves, then ran like the wind to get ahead of them. Luckily our group could run for prolonged periods.
We managed to get ahead of them, separated only by a busy street. There were already some groups at the Istana Park pit stop. After performing our cheer, we had "ICT FOC 05/06" and our group name branded on our arms. Then one member went into the fountain pool to retrieve our next Clue.

To the Fort Gate! We brought the house down with our rendition of "She'll Be Comin' Round The Mountain".

Then to Clarke Quay, where we wasted time counting windows. I don't understand why we had to do so; we could've just asked the receptionist inside that MICA building. We had to cross the road countless times counting the different coloured windows. The hidden ones tested our patience. If we wanted to see them, we had to cross to the diagonally opposite side of the nearby junction (marked in the illustration below by 'X'). But that junction only had one crossing--to the other side! The other three roads had no pedestrian crossing (typical of chaotic roads in the city.) We had to cross at another traffic light further down the road, once we crossed to the other side at the junction.

There was a traffic policeman controlling the junction at one point. During those times, whatever the policeman ordered, we did. Though the traffic lights seemed perfectly all right to me, we followed his instructions. I resisted the temptation to dash across the road even when the green man was visible, since the policeman knew better. Some tried to disobey him: a taxi nearly ran over him as he tried to halt traffic. Well, it *was* rush hour.
We had been there for an hour: from 6.30pm to 7.30pm. One hour counting windows! By then it was twilight. The Final Clue led us to the Esplanade. We were told that we were in 5th position, out of eight. It was a slightly comforting fact.
Unfortunately all of us agreed to walk there. That was because we didn't expect such a great discrepancy in location: the place *wasn't* the Esplanade, but 750 metres further than expected, and not even included in our Singapore Map and Transport Guide (inexistant location!)

By the time we got there, we were so tired we couldn't even give our cheer. Well, we didn't have to. Some time was given for rest. Then we did some silly charades game. Finally we were given another Final Clue: go back to the Polytechnic! Whichever team gets there first wins! (Of course some other team already got there first--we were in 5th place, remember?)
Thus we and some two other teams took the most direct form of transport to get back to SP: the bus 106, whose stop was conveniently nearby. We certainly didn't want to walk the 750 metres back to the nearest train station.
Blazerz, Fire, and the third group (certainly not Cherokee or Ozone) waited for bus 106. It duly arrived.
Our entrance was a sight to behold. Even the ez-link card readers were not ready, the bus having left the Marina Centre Bus Terminal just before this. Everyone wanted to get in. In the end there was standing room only. There were so many people, it seemed like we chartered the bus.
Members of the public who boarded the bus after that were equally surprised. Our profuse apologies to those who were looking forward to a nice good seat on the bus.
We arrived at SP, did our cheer, and were promptly crowned 5th (as expected).
End of the Race (How 'Amazing'!) at about 8.30 pm.
We showered and waited in our bunk for the next Event, the Shim Beauty Pageant. Whilst waiting, we played games and held amiable conversations within ourselves and several OC members and GLs.

********************

Darkness. | Silence. | Isolation.

A NightWalk is a Journey

on a Marked Path

through Buildings or Areas,

Alone, in the Darkness,

with Props and Scares.

Ruminations: The paper vs the computer

Last time, I used to, in the dead of night, write a few sentences in my Black Book, whether about the day's events or major chronicles I had planned for. Now, nights are spent surfing the Internet, endlessly, sacrificing sleep and rest. What has become of me? Where has my creative self gone? The one that is lured by the immediacy of the written word, the printed page? And now a computer distracts?

Frequently I find myself thinking that I should stop reading and start writing already, or get on with life and whatever needs to be done. This has happened much too often. Recently I pinpointed Facebook and its endless nature as a threat to my focus, and reduced the act of reading every status update there was till the point where I last stopped, which wastes a lot of time. So, one time-waster laid to rest.

What about the others? Twitter is still manageable. Blogs, not so. Of course, the fact that I'm writing now bodes well for my efforts at reducing distractions. I only need to take it further and focus entirely on my intended tasks.

To the NightWalk manual! And the FOC Chronicles!

But first, to sleep.

The Sleeping Prince (ICT FOC Day 2; Part 1)

********************
MAY 17, 2005 AT 8.30 AM
The second day began terribly. It was raining! We were allowed to wake up late, since we slept at 4.30am the night before. Some early risers had readied themselves, and some went to bathe, though the majority who woke up just in time for brunch didn't. Really, the irregular bathing hours! (Well at least we should have been told that there would be no bathing time given, so that we could awake and bathe earlier.) Our GLs told us to brush our teeth and freshen up instead, and report back to our bunk. We did so.
After performing the necessary ablutions, we went to the foodcourt for brunch (refer to Wednesday, June 8th 2011, for the full story.)
Then there was the spoiled handphone (refer also to Wednesday, June 8th 2011, for the full story.) Brunch finished and we waited for further instructions concerning The Amazing Race, a sort of obstacle race (the only amazing thing was the absence of a prize.)
After the episode of the spoiled handphone, there was Mark. A member of our group, he was known as the Sleeping Prince of our group, due to his strange way of catching up on lost sleep. He would close his eyes and nap in any kind of position he happened to be in. Currently he is sitting upright with arms crossed. Jia Xian took some pictures with his handphone. Someone remarked that a girl should kiss this Sleeping Prince and wake him up (which soon became a running joke.) The others giggled and had a look. When Mark was finally roused, he did not know that he was the centre of attention only some moments before! Absolutely Bizarre™!

********************

Concerning the NightWalk, and the Showers (ICT FOC Day 1; Part 4)

********************

MAY 17, 2005 AT 2.50AM

Suddenly one of the OC members announced that the NightWalk was cancelled ("That is Good News!") There were sighs of relief, as people were rather tired. It was 2.50am in the morning.

Either way, we still had to perform the NightWalk, as our bunks were at the other end of the campus, from where we were congregated. Thus, we instead walked in a huge group, in a sort of mass NightWalk.


Pause. I have just found out why (perhaps) the food was unpalatable. From an undisclosed (human) source, it was found out that for last year's camp, a team of food tasters from the ICT Club sampled each meal personally. They gave their opinions and comments about the dishes, and suitable changes were made to the menu.

However, this year, they did away with the panel of judges; instead, the choosing was based on price. So, the food was bad.

Continuéz.

The mass NightWalk was the exact opposite of what a NightWalk was supposed to be. A NightWalk, for your information, is solitary. Its main purpose is to instill Fear within the walkers, and several methods are used to achieve this result. Other than the solitary nature of the Walk, the next easiest method is to deprive walkers of light. No flashlights are allowed.


Booby traps and terrible items are placed along the route at regular intervals. Most common ones consist of dead bodies, falling or stationary. There are also disembodied heads "floating" on ropes connected to pulleys (silent pulleys, not creaking ones), and the Walkers are supposed to detect by themselves the approach of the head(s), and scream at appropriate points.

Of course a drawback of installing all these apparati would be the screams, indicating to those behind that a booby trap was near, and they had better watch out. How ironic.

The NightWalk was uneventful.

The booby traps were taken down because the Walk was cancelled, if you remember me saying so.

So we reached our bunk. The OC members announced tomorrow's waking time, 11.00am. Then we were permitted to sleep.

My group chose to bathe first. We had already agreed to do so earlier.

Unfortunately the nearest mass showering area was a good 450 metres away (could be more!), and travelling there required the use of a torchlight, since the roads were uncustomarily dark.



Once there, we discovered luxurious showering areas (3 in all) and some apparently so big that they needed two different doors. Of course, the actual *number* of showers were not so luxurious for us campers all at once. Impatient ones whiled away the time walking to and fro between the areas, hoping to find one with shorter queues.

For goodness-knows-what reason the number of toilet cubicles in one of the showers-cum-toilets were equally luxurious. I suppose shower cubicles are in great demand during bathing times, but I can't imagine vast numbers of people coming to use the toilet cubicles (only). Well, for the female toilets, that would be perfectly acceptable due to the eternities spent there, but Really, for the male toilets, put more showers!

The school has an excellent ez-link card payment system for the vending machines. I have tried it. ("It's Good!") There are shortcomings, as usual (what do you expect? It's electronic!)


Average number of showers per toilet: only 5! One changing room (out of 3) could be done away with, and converted to a shower. The Reduction of toilet cubicles goes without saying. Out of an estimated 6, 2 could be converted into showers. Sinks? Put more. Benches? Also. We don't want people standing about expectantly (they walked a long distance to get here, so let them sit and rest!) Also useful for wearing long pants when the floor is wet; they can stand on the benches to do so.

Finally I was back in my bunk. To bed! (sleeping bag rather.) After a long day.

NightWalk: How did I get into it?

Everything has to have a beginning, doesn't it? I didn't step into SP with the desire to scare people. (That would be a tragedy.) As an interested Games Personnel in MIT FOC 06/07, I tagged along during NightWalk XX (Xploration and Xperience, as we called it) and participated in the planning recces in the dead of night with my seniors and peers: Chalk, Yap Meng, Jun Hao, Teck Chau, Joshua etc. I had no interest in them other than the excitement of exploring the school at night. Often we would end at 1 or 2 in the morning!

Even though I helped in making props for NightWalk 06/07, and made a few breakthroughs, my interest in NightWalk wasn't really there. I did find out that my prop-making methods used a LOT of masking tape, though. (It was the main ingredient. To this day Joshua, my senior PropMaster, still reminds me of my voracious appetite for masking tape.) As a scarer, my interest was only in perfecting my assigned scare point. MIT FOC NightWalk 06/07 was largely considered to be a success, I am pleased to say.

A serious interest in NightWalk stirred within me somewhere in the middle of 2006, well after FOC 06/07 in April. It began as a series of scare ideas in a notebook I used to keep track of school assignments and the like; a leisure activity. My brain was constantly thinking of ways to scare people: I couldn't walk anywhere in school without chancing upon a perfect place for a scare point. They were always simple ideas: a figure appearing, a sudden sound.

The scares were visualised in vivid detail. Having been intimately involved in theater and the arts since young, my methods for bringing a scare point to life were decidedly dramatic, and I strove to recreate what I imagined in a NightWalk setting, in real time. Thus all my ideas were rather elaborate, requiring a whole team of props people in the background operating the different effects in a single scare. Not very practical in a NightWalk setting, where manpower and ease of setup is paramount, I confess. But the main Idea always was: make the Scare seem Real. Something that will make you go: "Was that...?"

Black light theatre helped a lot. It involves doing something against a black background, such that a puppeteer wearing black can control a prop ghost without being seen. It was easy to see how it could be applied in terms of NightWalk scares, where darkness is a given.

The natural progression was to think of the Route itself and how to improve it. The best parts of SP could be strung together to form a route that is scary as well as easy to demarcate. I asked for advice from my friends and seniors who had organised NightWalks before, whether in SP or secondary school camps, and they helpfully offered their tips and knowledge. I proposed a split route to take advantage of all the hotspots in SP, and to this end, in February 2007 I set off on a photography expedition on my own, where I took pictures of this proposed route.

Sad to say, the proposed route never did gain any following, due to lack of manpower. But the pictures were useful somewhat.

The biggest event was the loss of the notorious MLT2 and Childcare Centre, in late April 2007. I regret not conquering my fears (yes, I was fearful of the MLT2 area, with all its stories!) and not taking photos of the MLT2 and Childcare Centre, which were part of my proposed route. I only took pictures of them from far away. I daresay if someone was there to accompany me, I would have ventured into those areas. And explored them to death. (Pardon the pun.)

Those ideas expanded until I decided to gather all my thoughts and put them together, and this I did. The rest, as they say, is history. My NightWalk Folder grew and grew until today it holds records of nearly everything about NightWalk since FOC 07/08 (and a bit of FOC 06/07). DMIT NightWalk Event 2010 forced me to think of everything else in a NightWalk, from traffic control to route setup, and this I did in collaboration with my juniors at the time. (It didn't go smoothly, I'm afraid.)

To date, I've participated in close to 10 NightWalks, inside and outside DMIT. All those NightWalks and recces I've taken part in have really deepened my knowledge of the school. There may be some things I don't know, but I'll leave it to my juniors to further their knowledge of the school on their own. I'll only facilitate them and offer help where requested.

However long my involvement in NightWalk has been, I dislike to bog down my juniors with my ideas on what a NightWalk is supposed to be. So now, I'm in the process of collecting my discoveries into a Manual, and then leaving it to them to reinvent and innovate the NightWalk. Some rules have to stay, like noise control and clandestinity. Others? They decide.

You should never forget something just because you must. I will never deny my involvement in NightWalk. It has been a hallmark of my time in SP, and I hope others will receive insight from what I've discovered.

Thanks to Yong Xian for this photo. My Signature Scare; the Sadako-Goes-Towards-You. Perfected in FOC 06/07; original location W4/W5 Emergency Corridor. (Here it is located behind W13.) Never fails to scare the living daylights out of campers, especially as the first scare point in the NightWalk. =D

The Battle Royale (ICT FOC Day 1; Part 3)

In every camp there are night games, and Battle Royale is one of those that have no precedent. It does not base itself on pre-determined ideas of horror like NightWalk, but is a game on its own, able to be played in any way we want the experience to be. Unfortunately, in all camps, there is a dearth of pictures of night games (whether due to "rules and regulations" or "forget to take", I don't know) so I had to go through all my archives of SP photos to at least illustrate the action in this Part. Forgive me for any inaccuracy; we are lucky some of the pictures were taken, for some buildings have since been demolished or changed beyond recognition.

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DAY 1 NIGHT
MAY 17, 2005 AT 12.00AM

Battle Royale promptly started at 12am. The briefing, I mean. There were 12 zones, A through L. The campus thus divided, we were to collect lightrings, which were to be our sole source of light during the NightWalk, to occur immediately after the game. (Or was it lightsticks?)

We were to travel as a group through the zones. Some zones had more lightrings than others. At regular intervals, we would be informed that certain zones were closed. The game utilized the SMS feature on handphones to do the messaging. As a rule of thumb, if a particular zone is not mentioned, it is open. So the layout of open zones changed with each message.

And what happens when a zone is closed? Well, the Angels and Devils and Zone Masters will move in. There were 2 pairs of OC members acting as Devils, labelled with red lightsticks. Only one pair of Angels, labelled with blue lightsticks. Basically, if you meet a Devil, it's Bad; they will take your lightrings; if you meet an Angel, Good, they will give you one; if you meet the Zone Master, may God bless you. Therefore groups in the closed zones at the time of the message should move out quickly for fear of meeting the Devils and Zone Masters. Giving and taking of lightrings include forfeiture.

A map of the campus was presented to us, neatly divided into the different Zones. I immediately volunteered to be the navigation captain, and proceeded to indicate our position, in Zone F. Our stratagem was to search in the further areas, Zones G to L, since other teams were likely to go to Zones A to E, rumoured to contain the most number of lightrings.

And we set off! Immediately we went towards Zone I. The only torchlight we had was used sparingly. It was owned by Bash, and had several different light colours and a two-function switch. Quite blinding.

We had already passed T10, 9, and 8. Their corridors were *very* dark. Our sole torchlight was used mainly for, but not limited to, the brief illumination of a whole length of corridor and adequate illumination of staircases.

Finally we gave up trying to get to I due to its (extreme) darkness and isolation. We instead perambulated around the areas of F, G, H, and J (only). At times we imagined we saw people, in the corridor after T8 leading towards MLT2. We even witnessed another group being caught by Devils, from the corridor between T7 and the Administration Building. The unfortunate group was at the entrance of the library.

Then the Devils caught up with us! We were at the corridor running parallel to, and between, T9 and T10. Suddenly the Devils came. The rest of my team ran whilst I took refuge within the alcoves of the corridor.

After that episode, we resumed our rounds. Someone suggested that we use the lift. Although doubtful whether they were still operating at that hour, it was soon answered when the lift door opened.

Momentarily blinded, we entered. A lift! At that hour of night!

A message came through declaring that the game had ended. Finally!

(Before that we went all the way to Zone A, near our bunks, where we met with *more* Devils.) (And a Forfeit where we had to spin 10 rounds.)

We made our way to the meeting place, FC1. Other teams took a long time to come. After everyone was accounted for, we were told to wait at a gate nearby, for further instructions.

The wait lasted nearly half an hour. We were expectantly waiting for the NightWalk to commence. In the meantime, we were entertained by stories of the different reputed places in the campus (which we soon found out to be poppycock.)

Suddenly one of the OC members announced that......

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Concerning the Different Groups (ICT FOC Day 1; Part 2)

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MAY 16, 2005

Our bunk is well air-conditioned, though if you set the temperature too low, glacial temperatures would result in the middle of the night. I have assigned myself a spot, second table from the door. All footwear is to be deposited at the front, and we sleep haphazardly. That is, until the OC decided to add *more* groups to our bunk. At present only 2, it rose to 3, and finally it was decided on 4. We slept that night looking rather like corpses lined up at a morgue, what with our sleeping bags, and the equal distribution of space that was necessary for such large numbers of people.

Oh by the way, for purposes of posterity, I will disclose the names of the eight different groups (in no particular order): Cherokee, Blazerz, Ozone, Fire, Bull Shit, Hi-5, Summit, and Samurai Six.

Blazerz. We are a strange group in that there aren't many talkative people, save for Terry and Jia Xian, who create most of the conversation during mealtimes. Even they cannot be buzzing all the time. We strategize, cooperate, comment, and suggest. I was the unofficial navigation leader, and performed well I think. It was partly due to my thoughtful provision of the Singapore Map and Transport Guide. Another member, Edwin Toh, brought the same thing, and thus became our second navigator. We Blazerz are good people.

Cherokee. Mad people, according to Timothy, a member of our group.

Ozone. A concise name, and they could call themselves O³ if they wanted to. Exists in that group an associate of mine.

Fire. They lost miserably during the beach games at Sentosa (on the 3rd day of camp.) Well, Fire cannot play water games, as my associate put it.

Bull Shit. Their aptly chosen name is the laughing stock of the camp, enough said. There are one or two slightly corpulent members, and the group is adept at games using playing cards.

Hi-5. Childish name but good. Likeable people. Quite sporting. Jovial.

Summit. An ally for the Water-Strike game at Sentosa, it soon changed to enemy when they appeared to be using dubious methods to thwart us.

Samurai Six. Quite a lot of team spirit they had, but weren't so prominent, somewhat.

So, on the first night we had a game called Battle Royale or something; before, we ate a distasteful dessert (it's *supposed* to be distasteful) and appointed some boys as our "shims", but more on that later.

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