Not an Island Girl
A month ago, my family took a trip to the Bahamas because it was my brother’s “parent’s week” at The Island School, where he spent this past spring semester. I say this like we do a lot of traveling but I will tell you, when we travel—which is not particularly often–we don’t tend to go very far. I’m from Massachusetts and every summer, for approximately eighteen years, my family spent a week in Deer Isle, Maine, and two weeks on Cape Cod. These weeks were spent not just in the same places but—besides this last year—in the exact same houses. This is all to say that the trip to the Bahamas (over 350 miles from our house) was a pretty big deal.
While in the Bahamas, I learned something about myself.
I am not an island girl.
As much as I love the mesmerizing aquamarine color of the the ocean and the vast abundance of coconuts, I would rather hike up a mountain surrounded by trees and covered in shade any day. Part of this might stem from the nightmarish experience I had whilst in the Bahamas. While the rest of the parents and siblings worrilessly (is that a word?) enjoyed their week in paradise, I was eaten alive by tiny mosquitos (“no-see-ems” as my brother calls them). I know this might not seem so awful, but I was absolutely miserable. I couldn’t fall asleep because my body was so itchy. I had so many tiny red dots on my legs that it looked like a disease and any time something touched me, I flipped out, expecting it to be an insect. It was during this week that the world got back at me for being so young when I got chicken pox that I can’t remember.
I can’t deny, though, that the trip was beautiful. It was exciting and new and filled with activities. We jumped off a rock that must have been twenty feet high into the sapphire blue water. We did a “run-swim,” where my brother pushed the rest of us through thirty-or-so minutes of alternating swimming and then jogging (worth it but never again will I wear those sneakers). We drove across the island to the “Glass-Window Bridge,” which, for some reason, I always wanted to call the “Glass-Mirror Bridge.” We drank overpriced-but-worth-it-due-to-the-unbearably-hot-weather smoothies. All in all, it was a good experience.
I just think New Zealand is going to drop-kick the Bahamas when it comes to competing for my heart.