Kava Kalaupu

In Tonga, in every village across every island, there is a cultural tradition of drinking kava. For those of you who don’t want to wikipedia ‘kava’ it’s basically a root that is dried and then pounded into a fine powder. That powder is mixed and strained into gallon buckets of water creating kava- a muddy looking grayish liquid that, if consumed in large enough quantities, can induce a feeling kind of similar to being stoned as well as numb your mouth and tongue. However, you need to drink a lot of kava for it to have that full effect- mostly it just seems to make you sleepy. Weekend days, you can tell who has been up late at the kava circle since the men will all have what we pelangis have termed “kava hangovers”. These mostly consist of being fakapikopiko (lazy) and tired and disoriented all day. There is a lot of napping that happens in Tonga, but even more so after a good kava circle the night before. Men get together to drink kava in two settings (women are not allowed to drink kava): the fiekava and the kalapu. The fiekava happens most days, but particularly on Sunday and the circle consists of the fifiekou (minister), village chief, town officer, and town elders. Other people come from time to time, but basically in these settings kava is drank before church as part of the service, after church, or really any time of the day in some way pertaining to church and on church grounds. It’s an extremely respectable event full of serious talk and tradition. If the fiekava is equivalent to an upscale wine bar, then the Kalapu would be the blue collared pub. Men, mostly younger men and those who work in the bush during the day, come to hang out, drink kava, smoke, tell stories and jokes, and sing. Kalapus are also interesting because they are generally fundraisers, either for a community organization or a particular person. Because most Tongans don’t have bank accounts (ideas of savings and money and currency are very different here) a lot of men belong to different kalapus, and hold fundraisers for themselves throughout the year, with all the members taking turns. They money is then stored in the kalapu’s account and given out on certain dates to the men who have had their own kalapus, which are attended by all other members as well as some non-members.

As a mandatory Peace Corps cultural activity, each village had to hold it’s own kalapu and donate the money to a community organization. We had to buy and make the kava, advertise our event, and attend and run the logistics. Now, you may be thinking, hmmm, only men are allowed to drink kava- how could PC trainee females possibly participate? Which brings us to another aspect of the kava circle: to’a. Single (unmarried) women attend kava to to’a (pronounced do-ah) aka sit in a circle full of men in a particular way (with your legs to the side and tucked under you) and serve them kava for hours. Awesome. In return, you get to enjoy the esteemed company of these fine gentlemen, the privilege of pouring ladles of gray smelly water into halved coconut shells for hours on end, and listening to the fine conversation, which mostly consists of said gentlemen teasing and making fun of you and proposing marriage spontaneously. In Tongan culture, this is also one of the only ways to “date”: a boy can ask a girl he likes to to’a for him and he’ll come sit next to her in her circle and talk and flirt all while being harassed and taunted mercilessly by all of his friends, who have come along for support and to enjoy the fun. But, as I am decidedly not looking to date any Tongans, this angle wasn’t really pertinent, and I was left with my own kava circle: a 10 gallon bucket of kava, a plastic ladle, 5 coconut shell cups, and 20-30 Tongan men, none of whom spoke English. I know I’m being a bit sarcastic, and in reality it wasn’t horrible. But, speaking very little Tongan, and only understanding about 15% of what was said to me, never mind about me, and existing solely to serve the men, wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. I did get a number of marriage proposals, a fair amount from already married men, and, if there’s one thing you need to understand about Tongan culture it’s that everything is a joke or fakakata pe (joking/teasing) - the most valuable skill we’ve needed so far is the ability to laugh at ourselves- so it really wasn’t bad. And the village apparently loved the pelangi to’a; there was a higher turnout at our kalapu than they’ve had in months and we raised over 500 pa‘anga (Tongan currency) for the village scholarship fund. Nevertheless, I can’t see myself to’a-ing again in the foreseeable future, and I’m sure the mental image of me sitting demurely and serving Tongan men will give you all a good laugh.