Always Stay Golden

The entire time I’ve been here my nickname has been “golden girl.” Not because I’m blonde or tan, but boringly enough because I say “golden” a lot (well, more than any Dominicans are used to hearing anyway).

Apparently “we’re golden” or “sounds golden” isn’t really a thing anywhere else around the world??

So, each person who comes to the place I’ve been living must paint a rock before they leave, as the piece they’ll leave in Dominica forever. Throughout my trip I was brainstorming what I could draw on mine. Palm trees, mountains, crabs, hammocks, bugs – but when the time came and I sat down to paint mine, it wasn’t the views at the end of the hikes, full bags of fresh fruit, or finished garden beds that came to mind.

It was singing horrible camp songs on a six hour hike, or making it through a 1 a.m. concert after that six hours. It was non-stop complaining while weeding in the pouring rain, or watching Kamille climb (and fall) from avocado trees. Those are the moments that I can look back on and say no one else can or will have.

I’ve seen maybe 15 pictures of the Eiffel Tower this summer, and in each picture it looks exactly the same. But what’s not the same is what happens beyond the pictures – the trip to the tower itself. Whether it be a disaster of a day or a wonderful memory, everyone has different experiences that lead them somewhere.

Anyone can climb to the top of a mountain and smile at the beautiful view, but not everyone can turn around and smile just as big because of the people they are with.

And that’s how I finished my rock – because it doesn’t take a foreign country with beautiful sights to make overlooking a view anymore sweet. It takes ~golden~ people who can make you enjoy all the time in between.

So, moral of the story: always stay golden, because the views are already sparkly enough – it’s the steep, muddy hills that need a little shining.