Dreams do come true

I find myself in a foreign country for the first time in my life, and 30 is a late age for that to happen. I've only been to Singapore before, but you can scant consider that foreign.

I walk out the entrance of the airport, and I'm not sure what to look for because I don't even know what Thai taxis look like.

"Pai thi nai?"

"Taxi mai, thuuk mak kab."

At least I look local. I get to skip purchasing lucrative gems and 'cheap' tuk-tuk rides.

I'm in Phuket on impulse, wanting to run away from it all. I knew for a fact that if I wasn't happy back home, I'll never be happy anywhere else, but I went ahead and bought the flight tickets anyway. I've always wanted to travel alone, and here I am with my life back home put on hold for a month.

So I'm at the taxi stands trying to look like I belong. All I have is a handwritten address of Sinbi Muay Thai and a phone number of the gym. I walk from one driver to another, my only word of negotiation being 'meter'. This is when I realise that I could find sparkling juice in a desert much easier than finding a taxi to Rawai, maybe because it's an hour's drive, without traffic.

After what seems to be an eternity and a million taxi drivers later, someone finally says yes and we make our way to the gym.

Upon arrival, helplessness starts rearing its ugly head again. I fumble into the gym not knowing what the customs are in gyms of the land of smiles. I swear, insecurity feeds off solitude. Luckily, the people there are friendly enough and checking into my three-person shared room is a breeze. I don't have roommates yet, but Gob the administrator says I can expect company soon.

One bunk bed, one single bed, a sink, and a bathroom. It's like a high end ashram up in here. It's 12:00 now. Class doesn't start till 16:00. Looks like I'll have to get used to being alone with my mind. I don't like the thought of that. I don't even like the thought of being alone with my thoughts. I don't even like the thought of—okay shut up, brain.

I beat the dust off my bed before lying down, hands on my temples while I stare at the ceiling.

What am I doing here? Is this what I really want? Is Muay Thai really my favourite thing? Will I be fine this whole month? Will I get hurt?

Maybe putting my thoughts on paper would help make sense. I rummage through my 30 litre backpack—yes I packed light—and produce a hardcover journal. I turn to the first page and start writing.

Day 1,
I finally did it. I finally made it to Sinbi. But I wonder, what have I signed up for? Is there room for finding myself here?

The weight of these two lines is reflection enough. I stare at the sparsely written page for a good hour, thoughts playing among endless possibilities in my head.

The day passes with physical silence and mental noise, and in the evening I finally hear the whacks of shins on pads. I drag myself to the gym, and by dragging I mean walking ten steps to the ring. I bring my camera for recording, and by camera I mean smartphone.

Training feels like shit, because I'm shit. I realise that my cardio isn't as good as I originally thought. I thought running a 9 minute mile is achievement enough to hang with the big boys. Boy was I wrong. I make a mental note to run everyday if I'm to make the most out of my training here. Like a trainer once told me, Muay Thai is running.

I go back to my room feeling sore and the post-workout endorphins aren't doing anything to help. I pour myself a cup of water and look out the window. Banana trees sway in the gentle breeze as crickets call out for sexy time. At least the view is nice. My calm is short lived.

Water starts dropping on my head. First a drop, then a trickle, then a motherfucking torrent. I look up and realise that the air conditioner is leaking. So I try being MacGyver and fool around with the remote control, as if I could fix it by changing the settings. Half an hour later, I decide to look for Gob.

Well here's the thing. I didn't know the place closes around 19:00 and all employees just straight up leave after that. After realising this misfortune, I mope all the way back to my room. Drops of water thunk against the metal counter, not unlike a Stomp concert. There's a fear in the back of my mind that I'll wake up to a flooded room in the middle of the night. I can't just turn off the air conditioner without being cooked alive, and there's no fan to be found.

I figure there's no choice but to rough it out. Despite my earplugs, the thunk of water drops still ring loud, and I feel like a victim of Chinese water torture. I keep waking up every hour to make sure that no water made its way to the plug points because apparently they don't have on-off switches here. The water continues dripping as if someone forgot to turn off the shower. There's a bunch of towels lined up on the floor—my best attempts at reconstructing Hoover Dam. The night passes slowly.

Thankfully, Gob's there the next morning and she gets it fixed.

The second day of training is much better despite feeling groggier than a medieval alcoholic. The sting of helplessness is slowly fading. The trainers are great and they make you feel at home. The students there are awesome as well. I go back to my room after the day's training and decide to watch the videos I recorded.

As I watch the videos, a realisation comes to my mind. A year back, I was scouring YouTube for videos of people training in Thailand. Back then, I never thought I'd be able to do this. Where would I find the time? What about the money? How can I train with people at such a high level? I'd just click one video after another, just wishing. Wishing like how people wish for a vacation when they watch Travel & Living.

It wasn't until this year that I reviewed my plans with new vigour. Now I'm here, experiencing it for myself. It was all I expected it to be, and more. The musty smell of fermented sweat, the sounds of yells and strikes to wake you up in the morning, the camaraderie among peers, the freedom from expectations, the celebrity trainers and the empowerment that comes with realising your dreams.

I smile. Achieving goals isn't as elusive as people make it out to be—you just need to take it step by step. Believe it or not, that dream you have about being a millionaire or that Euro trip you've been thinking of isn't so far off. No matter how big or small your dreams are, you can make it a reality.

I turn off my smartphone and bask in the joy of the moment. My eyes get heavier as I lie in the comfort of the cool air and silence of the newly serviced air conditioner. Dreams do come true, I think to myself as I float off into dreams of another sort.