Renegade

I remember back to before I had my tattoo. I went back and forth on what I would get. It had to mean something, but what?

Eventually, I settled on the words "I hope you dance," which are from a song I have always cherished and from a quote that I try to live by. The next decision was where I was going to get it. Would I have an image with it?

I would toss ideas back and forth... I would ask people where I should go and who I should call, but if I was given a contact, I never called. I just couldn’t commit.

But, one night I just went. I don’t know why, I just found myself in front of a tattoo shop that had the blinking “open” out front. I was alone. My friends weren’t available to accompany me. After staring at the front door for awhile, I finally just walked in and said I want the word “renegade” on my wrist. WHAT? This was not part of the plan… but, it just felt right.

So, I did. And, the word renegade sits boldly on the palm side of my wrist. Nothing fancy, but the meaning is deep.

And when I get there
It won’t be far enough
I’m a renegade
It’s in my blood
If ever I get there
It won’t be fast enough
I’m a renegade
I always was

It’s been three years since I wrote about traveling. Three is such a small word for such a significant amount of time. So much has happened in the last three years while I’ve seemingly been standing still. I found a “real” job and have made my mark in the corporate world and just as quickly left and been replaced, because that’s how the corporate world works. I have made friends in fitness and found levels of strength in myself I had no idea existed. I’ve learned the places to go in Des Moines. I’ve become part of a city that I never wanted a part of, and I’ve never been happier about that statement. I have met a guy that I have fallen for in senses of that word I never understood. And, while I never thought I could “settle” I’ve learned that I’m happy staying put as long as I can find ways to still grow. I have painted. Tried new beers. Learned I love wine. I have drank Tequila in Mexico and drank tequila in Des Moines (one is better than the other). I rode a motorcycle. I ran a mud race. I played in the snow. I watched football. I played football. I drove a stick. I swam in the Mississippi river. I conquered fears and I acquired new ones at the same time.

And, while I haven’t blogged or felt that I had a story worth sharing with the masses, that doesn’t mean that the last three years have been any less meaningful… No, not at all. If anything, they’ve meant more. They’ve meant I can be anything and be okay anywhere. I just have to be surrounded by the right people.

But, with that ode to the past, I begin a new future.

That’s right, folks… I’m moving on and that is taking me to Thailand. Let me just say a few things to clear up some confusion:
1. No, I don’t speak Taiwanese and no, I don’t plan to learn it.
2. No, I have not seen the Hangover 2 and no, I don’t plan on it.

Now that is out of the way… here’s the story. I’m going to be teaching in an area just outside of Lampang, Thailand. Lampang sits about six hours north of Bangkok and is about two hours southeast of Ching Mai (the second big tourist city in Thailand). It’s not surrounded by beaches or filled with skyscrapers. It’s surrounded by rice fields, mountains and ceramic factories. Soemngam is rural, about 20,000 people reside here. I will probably be the only, or one of two or three, white people (Thais refer to us as Farangs).

Culture shock.

I have never been a fan of the country. Bugs and I do not see eye to eye. I love the smell of the city and the sound of traffic. But, I’m not here to be comfortable, I’m here to teach and to be taught.

My town does not have a grocery store, it has nightly markets. My town is Buddhist. There are no fast food restaurants. I’ll be teaching at an all girls, secondary school.

I hope to grow up a little and to learn something I never knew about myself. What that is yet, I do not know, but I will let you know once I do. And, I’m sure it will come in some hard, embarrassing lesson. It usually does.

So, until then… I have one month left before I kickoff 8,500 miles away, I’m going to sit back and try to enjoy my last few months in the Midwest. And, once I get to Thailand I will update you periodically on my life at this blog, even thought it's titled Michaela in Oz. Because, OZ means a bizarre and unreal place. And, that's where my life is taking me... down a bizarre path that I'm very excited to share with you.

Until next time.