There’s a trip I took when I was very young that deserves justice, and that’s why I’m bringing it back here. I call it the pictureless trip, since – believe it or not – there isn’t a single picture of it. Hard to believe today, right?
This was my quinceañera trip to the Dominican Republic in 2008. In Latin American countries there’s still an inherited tradition from the Spanish era to celebrate a girl’s 15th birthday in a big way, a moment that was once seen as a transition into marriageable age. Back then, families would spend a fortune celebrating the event: colorful gowns, big cakes, vals dances, and groups of boys escorting the girls were all part of the routine.
Society has slowly moved away from that idea of marriage, but turning 15 is still a huge deal and widely celebrated. In Colombia in particular (not sure about other countries), gifting girls a trip instead of throwing a party became a popular choice at least for families privileged enough to afford it.
I must admit I never dreamed of celebrating my 15th birthday. Still, my mom (and dad) made a big financial effort to make the most out of the occasion and gave me the choice between a party or a trip abroad. What do you think I chose?
Of course, I couldn’t say no to a trip. My mom pictured in her head the beautiful beaches of Punta Cana, and the best part was that she convinced the mom of my high school best friend to let her come with me. What party could have been better than that?!
Months later, Cami and I were on a plane headed abroad, on a trip organized just for quinceañeras (I think there were about 20 of us). I didn’t stay friends with most of them, but I’m lucky to still call Cami one of my friends 17 years later.
Our days went like this: breakfast, beach with the boys we met, parasailing, pool in the afternoon, dinner, and dancing at night. We also visited Santo Domingo for two days, and even secretly shared tiny sips of alcohol from the guys, since the hotel wouldn’t give us any.
The nights were what we looked forward to the most: dancing at the hotel. We were only allowed until 11 PM, just when the fun really started with the bachata classes! The guys, being 18, stayed until 2 AM, while we had to sneak back pretending to be asleep, annoyed that we missed the best part. Some girls even escaped early in the morning, only to regret it when the guides threatened to send us home early as punishment.
On the dance floor, I can’t even remember how many guys tried to hit on me every night, but I must admit there were quite a few, and I was enjoying the attention. Still, only one really stole my heart. My quinceañera summer romance was with one of those boys, and we truly bonded during the trip. It was all perfect until we had to say goodbye, and we both felt the heartbreak. After the trip (which lasted about 8 days), we spent hours talking on the phone, trying unsuccessfully to meet again (we lived just a 30-minute flight apart). Eventually, time turned us into just good friends, until we lost touch a few years ago. Still, it’s a memory I’ll always cherish.
The not-so-good bits? Beyond the fun, the beaches, and the secret kisses, I still remember how shocking Santo Domingo was. The poverty was so visible that it was hard not to feel ashamed. I truly hope the country is in a better place now.
I guess the point of writing this at this stage of my life is to say thank you again to my mom and dad from a more conscious place for giving me the opportunity to start exploring the world at such a young age, and for showing me that traveling is one of my biggest dreams, one I’m lucky enough to keep living today.
P.S. I’m writing this post as I prepare to take off for Bergen. Norway is my country #42, but the Dominican Republic will always have a place in my heart.
And you… do you have a pictureless trip to remember? 💜
Random Lessons 