Nikki Yeager

Determined to get rid of any zits on my forehead before Monday, I started a rigorous routine of excessive sunlight (to fry the blemishes of my face) and salt water (to wash away all that pesky bacteria that sneaks into open pores). That being said, I spent my third afternoon in a row lounging next to the water, book in hand.

It was around page 300 that I looked up. In front of me there was an endless expanse of water, throwing off rays of brilliant blue and turquoise reflections. To the right some kids ran back and forth on the sand dragging shovels and pails behind them, to small to really pick the toys of the ground. The sun kept on shining and the waves kept on rolling quietly to the shore while I sat there taking it all in.

It was beautiful. So I sat my book down, threw my shades aside and plunged in, letting everything disappear. Before long I was laying on my back letting the ocean carry me wherever it chose. And somewhere between the realization I may have overdone the sun and it was time for me to swim back to shore, it hit me: this is what brings people to the Bahamas. Despite the mind-numbing boredom and general lack of ambition on the island, there is something serene and beautiful about this place. Something about the way the ocean water feels after a days worth of sweating or something about the sound of laughter down the beach- it pulls you in and holds you there. It traps you in a wonderful state of idle happiness and it never lets go.

And for a few minutes, staring at the sun and ignoring the deep water below me, I knew first hand what so many people had told me. Island life is addicting and wonderful and filled with the type of contentedness that so few people ever understand.

Part of me will always hate this country for everything it is (and even more, what it is not), but part of me will be here forever.

Part of me has fallen into the ocean…where I suspect it will stay for quite some time.