Dear loyal blog readers,
Today I am departing on an unplanned last minute trip to Fiji…to get a root canal. See, that sentence got much less exciting. My tooth had been hurting quite a bit, so I came into Nuku’alofa on Thursday and saw the dentists at the hospital who determined there was no cavity. Although typical Tongan practice is to pull a tooth that hurts, I get special perks, being a PCV, and am being medically evacuated to Suva to have a root canal.
Despite being completely unprepared and woefully under-packed for an international voyage (yes I have to wash my clothes every night in the sink), I am greatly looking forward to seeing a dentist and getting this over with. Who know, maybe I’ll even be able to wear a bathing suit on a beach there… In any event, I will keep you all posted on the procedure and will hopefully be coming back to Tonga very soon.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
A Friend of the Devil is a Friend of Mine
Tongans are very serious about the devil (teivolo). People who fear nothing else in the world, who will willingly hunt and swim with sharks, who live in a place that could be literally swept away by a large wave are terrified to no end of the devil. The bush is avoided at nighttime, because that’s where the devil lives. People do not live in a house alone, because the devil will inevitably come and possess them. Every bad thing that happens in Tonga is the work of the devil, and he is always plotting to get you. Needless to say, I am constantly being asked with shock and awe, “Why are you living alone/ walking to the store alone/ leaving my house alone at night/ dressing up for Halloween? Aren’t you afraid of the devil!?” In response, I fluctuate between nervous laughter and bold assertions such as, “Palangais are not afraid of the devil.”
In some ways, the omnipresence of the devil is really interesting. Although Tonga is a completely Christian nation, it’s actually illegal for an organized religion that is not Christian to be in Tonga, they’ve incorporated quite a few traditional “pagan” beliefs into this Christian context, the most prominent being the transformation of bad Polynesian demons and spirits into the devil.
A few weeks ago I was sitting in my house, listening to some Grateful Dead and writing letters, a typical Tongan Sunday. My neighbor Lupe, her sister and her cousin (I think) stopped by to escape the children and chat. In the middle of a sentence Lupe stopped and looked at me, a little puzzled, and asked, “What is this music?” I told her the name of the album was American Beauty, and she looked even more concerned. I listened closely to the song, just in time to hear the refrain, “a friend of the devil is a friend of mine.” Lupe’s sister then chimed in, “Americans are friends with the devil?!” Cue shock and horror. I hastened to explain that no, Americans did not like the devil, and that the people who played the song did not worship the devil, but the damage had been done.
Later that evening, I spied Lupe coming back over to my house, and I ran to my i-pod. In a moment of supreme inspiration, I turned on the soundtrack from Godspell, and when Lupe again asked what the music was, I was ready. “Oh, this is from a drama about Jesus Christ.” Great success. She especially loved the song “Bless the Lord My Soul”, and I ended up burning her a CD of the album to bring home. So, in the course of a day I went from being a suspected infidel and devil lover to a good Christian girl, all because of my i-pod.
In some ways, the omnipresence of the devil is really interesting. Although Tonga is a completely Christian nation, it’s actually illegal for an organized religion that is not Christian to be in Tonga, they’ve incorporated quite a few traditional “pagan” beliefs into this Christian context, the most prominent being the transformation of bad Polynesian demons and spirits into the devil.
A few weeks ago I was sitting in my house, listening to some Grateful Dead and writing letters, a typical Tongan Sunday. My neighbor Lupe, her sister and her cousin (I think) stopped by to escape the children and chat. In the middle of a sentence Lupe stopped and looked at me, a little puzzled, and asked, “What is this music?” I told her the name of the album was American Beauty, and she looked even more concerned. I listened closely to the song, just in time to hear the refrain, “a friend of the devil is a friend of mine.” Lupe’s sister then chimed in, “Americans are friends with the devil?!” Cue shock and horror. I hastened to explain that no, Americans did not like the devil, and that the people who played the song did not worship the devil, but the damage had been done.
Later that evening, I spied Lupe coming back over to my house, and I ran to my i-pod. In a moment of supreme inspiration, I turned on the soundtrack from Godspell, and when Lupe again asked what the music was, I was ready. “Oh, this is from a drama about Jesus Christ.” Great success. She especially loved the song “Bless the Lord My Soul”, and I ended up burning her a CD of the album to bring home. So, in the course of a day I went from being a suspected infidel and devil lover to a good Christian girl, all because of my i-pod.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
A Tongan Birthday, Take Two
My birthday celebrations this year was different from last year, namely in that no mammals were harmed or killed in the ensuing celebration, something I attribute to the fact that I didn’t tell any Tongans it was my birthday. Birthdays here are, on the whole, not a big deal, with the exception of first birthdays, and no one really celebrates them in the narcissistic manner we do in America. But, being Americans, a few of my PC friends along with Brian and Sabina and Aki and Koitchi decided to use my birthday as an excuse to go out to dinner in Ha’apai, something that almost never happens. There is a guest house in town that, with a few days advanced notice, will prepare a lobster dinner (provided someone can catch lobsters) and I am so glad we went. Dinner was amazing: lobster, and root crop (obviously), a vegetable and octopus stir-fry, fried fish, a vegetable salad(!), papaya, and a delicious birthday cake provided by Kate. The lobster was, in true Tongan fashion, covered in mayonnaise and what Eric calls “government cheese”, and in a telling display of cultural integration, I ate the whole thing and thought it was amazing. The meal ended with the ten of us up to our elbows in grease and lobster juice, deliciously full and happy.
Clearly, the day was made even better by some lovely birthday emails, facebook posts, and even a few wonderful packages, and I really appreciate all of the love that was sent my way. It’s strange to think that I’ve already spent two birthdays in this country, and that I’ll be 25 when I leave here…as my mother reminds me, never having held a ‘real’ job!
Clearly, the day was made even better by some lovely birthday emails, facebook posts, and even a few wonderful packages, and I really appreciate all of the love that was sent my way. It’s strange to think that I’ve already spent two birthdays in this country, and that I’ll be 25 when I leave here…as my mother reminds me, never having held a ‘real’ job!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Halloween, Faka-Tonga
Despite the lack of Halloween staples such as jack-o-lanterns, craft stores, and Ressee’s peanut butter cups, we decided to celebrate October 31st in true American fashion. (sidenote: Melissa and I both have come to the same shocking conclusion: being in PC might be making us more ‘American’ and possibly more patriotic…) The plan: a bonfire on the beach behind a Tongan cemetery and a mandatory costume rule. (To put this in context, while European and American graveyards usually have a spooky gothic feel thanks, in large part, to granite headstones and somber settings, Tongan cemeteries are adorned with large colorful quilts, usually held upright by stands, and sandy grave sites are decked out with the brightest plastic flowers to be found. All in all, the effect is not as scary as we were hoping for on this occasion.)
The night before Halloween, I spent at least four hours coloring plastic drinking straws with a black permanent marker in preparation for my costume. I decided to dress up as a molocau, the poisonous centipedes that inhabit Tonga, but, as I explained to Thom when he expressed concern with how this might change my demeanor, I would be a friendly molocau, not a vengeful one. To achieve this look, I taped these black straws down the side of a black shirt and black pants, creating my “100” legs and used two more for my antennae. I also made every attempt to wiggle from side to side and to move very very fast.
There were some pretty great costumes made with very limited resources, and that just made the party even better. Notable get-ups included Brian’s elaborate bed-sheet mummy, Brett’s crocodile Dundee, complete with an inflatable raft he transformed into a crocodile and wrestled, Kate’s elaborate 80’s outfit which showed off more leg than any of us have seen in quite some time, Grant’s portrayal of a Tongan church woman completed by the floral dress and church hat he borrowed from his neighbor, and Sabina’s amazing nurse from ‘Kill Bill’.
Before heading down to the beach, Grant and I biked through town in costume to buy some more alcohol and mixers, much to the amusement of everyone we saw. All day on Monday I was accosted by children at my school wanting to know who the fakaleiti (literally, like a lady- a Tongan term for a man/boy who cross dresses or is effeminate ) I was biking through town with was, and on discovering it was a PC, why oh why he was wearing I dress.
Although there was no candy at our beach party, there were plenty of yummy things to roast on the fire and eat, as well as more than enough rum, and some great music. Much to popular disbelief, I discovered that there is indeed a molocau dance (as well as a mummy dance and a some 80’s dances and the infamous carrot dance!), although I suspect one must be rather under the influence to perform it to perfection. Some people had some much fun that they stayed up all night, slept on the beach, and had to perform a walk of shame through town on Sunday morning as everyone was going to church, in a dress…but I’m not naming names!
Since Muimui had followed me to town, we came back home around 3:30 in the morning, where I ran into my neighbor, Le’o, and a few of his friends slowly walking back from kava (Lupe and the kids went to Vava’u for almost two weeks, and Le’o’s house instantly turned into a guys hangout/ crash pad with an ‘informal attire at all times’ rule). Both of us said hello, said goodnight, and didn’t ask any questions, even when we all skipped church the following morning.
The night before Halloween, I spent at least four hours coloring plastic drinking straws with a black permanent marker in preparation for my costume. I decided to dress up as a molocau, the poisonous centipedes that inhabit Tonga, but, as I explained to Thom when he expressed concern with how this might change my demeanor, I would be a friendly molocau, not a vengeful one. To achieve this look, I taped these black straws down the side of a black shirt and black pants, creating my “100” legs and used two more for my antennae. I also made every attempt to wiggle from side to side and to move very very fast.
There were some pretty great costumes made with very limited resources, and that just made the party even better. Notable get-ups included Brian’s elaborate bed-sheet mummy, Brett’s crocodile Dundee, complete with an inflatable raft he transformed into a crocodile and wrestled, Kate’s elaborate 80’s outfit which showed off more leg than any of us have seen in quite some time, Grant’s portrayal of a Tongan church woman completed by the floral dress and church hat he borrowed from his neighbor, and Sabina’s amazing nurse from ‘Kill Bill’.
Before heading down to the beach, Grant and I biked through town in costume to buy some more alcohol and mixers, much to the amusement of everyone we saw. All day on Monday I was accosted by children at my school wanting to know who the fakaleiti (literally, like a lady- a Tongan term for a man/boy who cross dresses or is effeminate ) I was biking through town with was, and on discovering it was a PC, why oh why he was wearing I dress.
Although there was no candy at our beach party, there were plenty of yummy things to roast on the fire and eat, as well as more than enough rum, and some great music. Much to popular disbelief, I discovered that there is indeed a molocau dance (as well as a mummy dance and a some 80’s dances and the infamous carrot dance!), although I suspect one must be rather under the influence to perform it to perfection. Some people had some much fun that they stayed up all night, slept on the beach, and had to perform a walk of shame through town on Sunday morning as everyone was going to church, in a dress…but I’m not naming names!
Since Muimui had followed me to town, we came back home around 3:30 in the morning, where I ran into my neighbor, Le’o, and a few of his friends slowly walking back from kava (Lupe and the kids went to Vava’u for almost two weeks, and Le’o’s house instantly turned into a guys hangout/ crash pad with an ‘informal attire at all times’ rule). Both of us said hello, said goodnight, and didn’t ask any questions, even when we all skipped church the following morning.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
A Podiatric Update
Last month, after about 6 weeks of my foot hurting, I finally went to Tongatapu to get an x-ray taken of my foot. I’d been waiting until the class 6 exam and an island-wide clean-up attempt were finished, and once they were I figured I should finally have this checked out. My foot was still hurting quite a bit, especially with changes in weather and temperature. So, I flew to the capital and had a very Tongan examination done.
The medical officer, Seini, and I drove to the hospital, where I found out that we first had to get a form filled out by hospital medical personnel. Instead of waiting to see a doctor Seini decided we should just go to her house and ask her cousin to sign the form, since he’s a nurse at the hospital. So we drove across town and pulled into the yard of her parents’ house where she had a child go wake her cousin- I later found out he works night shifts and was sleeping when we woke him up. On the “patio” amidst pigs and dogs and children he quickly looked at my foot, sign the x-ray form, and back we went to the hospital. (As a quick sidenote, I’d like to mention that the newly renovated wing of the hospital outside of Nuku’alofa is quite nice- very clean and well staffed.)
The best part about having Tongan (or host country nationals in PC-speak) medical staff is that they know everyone within the Tongan medical community, and we were able to breeze right into the x-ray room, with Seini stopping to joke with everyone along the way. We got my x-rays taken and developed in record time and then, rather than go through the silly waiting for a doctor business, headed back to Seini’s family’s house to have her cousin look at them. Amid the animals in the front yard he read the x-rays and told me that I have a small fracture that’s healing well, and that most of the pain is coming from the fact that when the cement block fell on my foot it bruised all the way through and that my bone and soft tissue are still bruised and will take a few more months to heal thoroughly. All in all, best news I could have hoped for.
I spent one more day in the capital a got to do a bit of shopping for luxury items we don’t get out in Ha’apai (namely cheese and American candy!) for myself and the other PC, ate at restaurants, mailed letters (they take about a ¼ of the time to get places if I mail then from Nuku’alofa than if I mail them from Ha’apai), and I even drank a chai latte(!) then it was back home and back to school, sort of.
The medical officer, Seini, and I drove to the hospital, where I found out that we first had to get a form filled out by hospital medical personnel. Instead of waiting to see a doctor Seini decided we should just go to her house and ask her cousin to sign the form, since he’s a nurse at the hospital. So we drove across town and pulled into the yard of her parents’ house where she had a child go wake her cousin- I later found out he works night shifts and was sleeping when we woke him up. On the “patio” amidst pigs and dogs and children he quickly looked at my foot, sign the x-ray form, and back we went to the hospital. (As a quick sidenote, I’d like to mention that the newly renovated wing of the hospital outside of Nuku’alofa is quite nice- very clean and well staffed.)
The best part about having Tongan (or host country nationals in PC-speak) medical staff is that they know everyone within the Tongan medical community, and we were able to breeze right into the x-ray room, with Seini stopping to joke with everyone along the way. We got my x-rays taken and developed in record time and then, rather than go through the silly waiting for a doctor business, headed back to Seini’s family’s house to have her cousin look at them. Amid the animals in the front yard he read the x-rays and told me that I have a small fracture that’s healing well, and that most of the pain is coming from the fact that when the cement block fell on my foot it bruised all the way through and that my bone and soft tissue are still bruised and will take a few more months to heal thoroughly. All in all, best news I could have hoped for.
I spent one more day in the capital a got to do a bit of shopping for luxury items we don’t get out in Ha’apai (namely cheese and American candy!) for myself and the other PC, ate at restaurants, mailed letters (they take about a ¼ of the time to get places if I mail then from Nuku’alofa than if I mail them from Ha’apai), and I even drank a chai latte(!) then it was back home and back to school, sort of.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sivi Time
The education system here in Tonga is comprised of primary schools, which contain classes 1-6, and high schools, or, as there are known here, colleges, for forms 1-7 (7th-12th grade for us Americans). In order to pass from primary schools into high schools, all class 6 students must sit an entrance exam (sivi) (four subjects: English, Tonga, science, and math) and obtain a passing score. If they don’t, they must repeat the year in primary school. In addition to passing, the exact score is also important because it qualifies the students for different high schools. Only those with the highest scores are accepted to the “best” high schools (the government-run ones). Those with lower passing scores are usually accepted to various church-run high schools (Free Wesleyan, Catholic, Mormon, etc.).
As most of you know, I am working in a primary school, which means my class 6 students, the class 6 teacher, and I have essentially been preparing all year for this test, which they took on October 6-7. I have a few concerns about having a placement test for high school entrance, particularly that it places an enormous amount of pressure on 10-12 year old kids. All year they have been coming to school early, usually 7:30, leaving late, around 4:30, and coming back again for night school from about 7:00-9:00. In addition, I generally dislike standardized tests and the “teaching-to-the-test” mentality that accompanies them, which is a large part of what happens in class 6, and, on top of that, these tests have a history of being terrible and full of errors. The English portion has been particularly bad in the past; a few years ago a PCV took the test for one of his students, a college graduate and native English speaker, and scored an 80% because the test had so many mistakes!
Still, despite these concerns, all in all, I think the sivi went pretty well. The English portion of the exam was much more grammatically sound than in past years (I think there were only 3 mistakes on the whole paper), there weren’t too many ridiculous trick vocabulary words, and there was only one section that was pretty impossible (combining multiple sentences by choosing the correct conjunction…boo).
And, since we’re in Tonga, a major event means one thing: feasts! Over the two days of the exam there were four kai pola at my school compound: two breakfast feasts, and two dinner feasts. Huge tents were set up in the school yard and tables and benches were brought over from the church halls. The breakfast feasts were fairly typical: giant plates of bread, cookies, and cakes for each student/teacher/guest, all to be washed down with a large mug of milo (knock-off hot cocoa) or sugar and milk with a bit of tea. (The day before the exam, I had a serious talk with the students about not eating too much before the test began to avoid being sick…overeating can be a serious problem at a kai pola!)
However, the dinner feasts blew my mind. All Tongan feasts are pretty astounding to us portion-conscious foreigners and tables are typically completely covered with food, often at least two layers deep. But, for such a special occasion, the typical would not do. As the exam was wrapping up, giant flat-bed trucks pulled up to the school, each covered with food and giant shelf-like structures covered in tin foil and other shinny paper and decked out with balloons and ribbons. These shelves were first placed on the tables, and then loaded with food, creating the surface area of three tables where there was once just one!
I should note that for the entire two days and nights that the exam was taking place, the fathers and male members of the community were showing their support by drinking kava. Nonstop. All year long I’ve been avoiding being a to’ua (lone unmarried woman who sits in the kava circle and serves the men kava) and somewhere along the line in a string of excuses I made the vague promise that I would only to’ua during the sivi. Now, to put this in a cultural context, Tongans say they are going to do things all the time that they have no intention of doing- it’s more important that you tell a person what they want to hear rather than refuse anything. But, apparently, this does not apply to Alicia. The first day I held the kava drinkers at bay telling them that I had to go into town and work on the water project application, which I did. The second day, I had no such handy excuse, and every time I appeared in the school yard someone ran up and asked me to come to’ua. For the morning I made indistinct references to having to clean the classroom and talk to the kids, but once they were in the room with the exam, I was out of excuses. Essentially, I spent the rest of the day hiding, moving around, and performing very menial tasks (like washing a table) with great energy and concentration to avoid having to join the kava circle.
Now that the exam is over, the class 6 will essentially sit around for the last month and a half of school. I’ve told them we’re still going to have class, much to their dismay, but have promised only “fun” lessons and no written work. We’re working on how to read/act plays now and I’m hoping to put together a show to perform for the community when school finishes in December.
As most of you know, I am working in a primary school, which means my class 6 students, the class 6 teacher, and I have essentially been preparing all year for this test, which they took on October 6-7. I have a few concerns about having a placement test for high school entrance, particularly that it places an enormous amount of pressure on 10-12 year old kids. All year they have been coming to school early, usually 7:30, leaving late, around 4:30, and coming back again for night school from about 7:00-9:00. In addition, I generally dislike standardized tests and the “teaching-to-the-test” mentality that accompanies them, which is a large part of what happens in class 6, and, on top of that, these tests have a history of being terrible and full of errors. The English portion has been particularly bad in the past; a few years ago a PCV took the test for one of his students, a college graduate and native English speaker, and scored an 80% because the test had so many mistakes!
Still, despite these concerns, all in all, I think the sivi went pretty well. The English portion of the exam was much more grammatically sound than in past years (I think there were only 3 mistakes on the whole paper), there weren’t too many ridiculous trick vocabulary words, and there was only one section that was pretty impossible (combining multiple sentences by choosing the correct conjunction…boo).
And, since we’re in Tonga, a major event means one thing: feasts! Over the two days of the exam there were four kai pola at my school compound: two breakfast feasts, and two dinner feasts. Huge tents were set up in the school yard and tables and benches were brought over from the church halls. The breakfast feasts were fairly typical: giant plates of bread, cookies, and cakes for each student/teacher/guest, all to be washed down with a large mug of milo (knock-off hot cocoa) or sugar and milk with a bit of tea. (The day before the exam, I had a serious talk with the students about not eating too much before the test began to avoid being sick…overeating can be a serious problem at a kai pola!)
However, the dinner feasts blew my mind. All Tongan feasts are pretty astounding to us portion-conscious foreigners and tables are typically completely covered with food, often at least two layers deep. But, for such a special occasion, the typical would not do. As the exam was wrapping up, giant flat-bed trucks pulled up to the school, each covered with food and giant shelf-like structures covered in tin foil and other shinny paper and decked out with balloons and ribbons. These shelves were first placed on the tables, and then loaded with food, creating the surface area of three tables where there was once just one!
I should note that for the entire two days and nights that the exam was taking place, the fathers and male members of the community were showing their support by drinking kava. Nonstop. All year long I’ve been avoiding being a to’ua (lone unmarried woman who sits in the kava circle and serves the men kava) and somewhere along the line in a string of excuses I made the vague promise that I would only to’ua during the sivi. Now, to put this in a cultural context, Tongans say they are going to do things all the time that they have no intention of doing- it’s more important that you tell a person what they want to hear rather than refuse anything. But, apparently, this does not apply to Alicia. The first day I held the kava drinkers at bay telling them that I had to go into town and work on the water project application, which I did. The second day, I had no such handy excuse, and every time I appeared in the school yard someone ran up and asked me to come to’ua. For the morning I made indistinct references to having to clean the classroom and talk to the kids, but once they were in the room with the exam, I was out of excuses. Essentially, I spent the rest of the day hiding, moving around, and performing very menial tasks (like washing a table) with great energy and concentration to avoid having to join the kava circle.
Now that the exam is over, the class 6 will essentially sit around for the last month and a half of school. I’ve told them we’re still going to have class, much to their dismay, but have promised only “fun” lessons and no written work. We’re working on how to read/act plays now and I’m hoping to put together a show to perform for the community when school finishes in December.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Holopeka Water Tank Project
Most of you blog readers have already received this announcement via email, but I figured I'd post on it on the blog as well! I am currently in the process of helping the village next to mine, Holopeka, look for donations to address a critical water problem. After an intense fono (official and formal town meeting) (where I may or may not have gotten very nervous at having to make an official Tongan speech) that village council and town officer decided that the only way we can address this problem is to ask for outside assistance.
Water is supplied to the villiage via a pump and generator that pumps well water up to a large holding tank which sits atop a metal-frame stand. The water is then distributed from the tank and into the community and hosueholds via pipes for general household usage, generally flush toilets and water for washing. (Drinking water herecomes from rainwater.) The stand that holds the water tank is made of metal and has rusted so much that it's on the verge of collapse. The village shortened the stand by 3 meters in 2007 to remove erroded sections, which was a temporary fix, but the decrease in height also made it more difficult for the water to be transported. We fear that the stand will break and collapse within the next 3 months, and if that happens the village will have no well-water. Good drinking water is a precious supply, and will run low if an entire village is forcedto use their rain water collection tanks for general purposes. As a result, we are looking for help to build a new stand and keep enough water in the village! The village has been able to fundraise about half of the necessary funds and will provide all the labor inconstructing the new stand, but we still need some assistance.
I've applied to an organization called Appropriate Projects, which is part of a larger organization, Water Charity. They have approved our project and are helping to collect donations to make our project happen. If you are readigg this, I would ask that you please consider making a donation and help my village. Any amount of money, even $5 or $10, would make a huge difference, and I would be so grateful!
Here is the link to my water-tank project page, which has the donation information on it: http://appropriateprojects.com/node/54.
I am in awe at the number of people who have already donated money in the few short days since I sent an email out, and I am so thankful for all your support. It's just wonderful, and I'm so overwhelmed and grateful. Thank you all so much!
'Ofa atu!
Water is supplied to the villiage via a pump and generator that pumps well water up to a large holding tank which sits atop a metal-frame stand. The water is then distributed from the tank and into the community and hosueholds via pipes for general household usage, generally flush toilets and water for washing. (Drinking water herecomes from rainwater.) The stand that holds the water tank is made of metal and has rusted so much that it's on the verge of collapse. The village shortened the stand by 3 meters in 2007 to remove erroded sections, which was a temporary fix, but the decrease in height also made it more difficult for the water to be transported. We fear that the stand will break and collapse within the next 3 months, and if that happens the village will have no well-water. Good drinking water is a precious supply, and will run low if an entire village is forcedto use their rain water collection tanks for general purposes. As a result, we are looking for help to build a new stand and keep enough water in the village! The village has been able to fundraise about half of the necessary funds and will provide all the labor inconstructing the new stand, but we still need some assistance.
I've applied to an organization called Appropriate Projects, which is part of a larger organization, Water Charity. They have approved our project and are helping to collect donations to make our project happen. If you are readigg this, I would ask that you please consider making a donation and help my village. Any amount of money, even $5 or $10, would make a huge difference, and I would be so grateful!
Here is the link to my water-tank project page, which has the donation information on it: http://appropriateprojects.com/node/54.
I am in awe at the number of people who have already donated money in the few short days since I sent an email out, and I am so thankful for all your support. It's just wonderful, and I'm so overwhelmed and grateful. Thank you all so much!
'Ofa atu!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
My First, and Hopefully Last, Tongan Tsunami
September was a pretty crazy and hectic month, so, I suppose, in a way it was fitting that the last day of the month was taken up by massive fear and panic resulting from a tsunami. I was going about my business last Wednesday morning around 7:30am as usual. I had already brought water inside from my rain water tank and it was on the stove boiling for my morning tea. The radio was prepared to be switched on at 8:00 (which is when we get 10 minutes of English-language BBC Pacific Region news broadcasts), and I’d already scolded school children for looking in my windows and staring at me. It was a typical day. My cell phone rang a few times, but, not unusually, my network was atrocious, and all I could hear was infinite static and what I’ve dubbed ‘space noises’- I really didn’t think much of it.
About a half hour later my phone was still ringing (but unable to connect) and the words “earthquake”, “tsunami”, and “Samoa” caught my attention from the news broadcast. Samoa is pretty close to Tonga (very close if you are a giant tsunami wave) so I tried to call the emergency coordinators in my group who have satellite phones and are immediately contacted by the PC office if there is any natural or political threat to safety, but the phone network was still busy/down, and I couldn’t get through to anyone. It wasn’t until school officially started that the teachers turned on the radio, and we heard, in Tongan, that there was a tsunami warning in effect for Tonga. Massive panic ensued. Now, Tongan children, as a whole, make American kids look like tiny spoiled wimps. They do strenuous chores American children would never consider doing unless they were getting paid, they routinely run around with giant bush knives, climb coconut trees, take care of younger siblings on their own, and are seemingly impervious to cuts, scrapes, bits, and even infections. So, when the word got out that there was a tsunami warning, I was a bit surprised to see how quickly the students at school began to panic and cry, although with good reason: if a serious tsunami were ever to hit Lifuka, there’s a very slim chance that anything or anyone would survive. Immediately school was dismissed, and the kids went sprinting home or into the bush. No organization, no protocol. Just running.
I was still trying to get in touch with other volunteers, but I couldn’t get through to anyone. Not really knowing what was going on, I weighed my options: to get to the PC consolidation point or higher ground, I would have to bike/ride along the one road from my village to town, which runs right next to the shore of the island, which didn’t seem like the best idea. My school and house is located almost directly in the middle of the northern half of the island, so I decided to just stay put. My fellow teachers joined me in this strategy, since the majority of the village I live in is pretty close to the water, and in the spirit of not panicking, we made some morning tea and keke (Tongan doughnuts) and pretty much hung out. A few hours later I was able to receive a phone call from another volunteer telling me we were all clear.
We were so incredibly lucky here in Ha’apai. Only a few tsunami waves hit the main wharf in Pangai, which is virtually the best place it could have since there are no houses on the beach there, and the highest wave was no more than 3 meters. Kate and Brett, who live right on the beach in Pangai and left with their neighbors for higher ground, saw the ocean before and during the waves, and even though there wasn’t a lot of damage, it sounds terrifying. According to them, the entire harbor drained out before the waves hit, almost like the harbor was a sink and someone had pulled the drain. (For a more exciting version of the tsunami in Ha’apai, check out Kate and Brett’s blog: http://asleson.blogspot.com/) The only damage that my island incurred was to some of the boats that were at the wharf and in the harbor, but even they weren’t damaged too badly. The biggest issue was that no one was really informed and hardly anyone knew what was going on- the word tsunami (peau kula- literally ‘red wave’) was heard, and everyone understandably panicked.
Sadly, there were deaths and much more damage in the Niua island group of Tonga, which is actually closer to Samoa than it is to any other Tongan islands, and all this week there have been fundraisers within Tonga to send money and aid up to Niuatoputapu.
Talking with some of the other volunteers the other day we realized that in 2009 there have been multiple earthquakes, two cyclones, a volcanic eruption, and now a tsunami in Tonga, which is a pretty tiny country. We’ve really been blowing through those natural disasters…I think all we’re missing is a blizzard! Still, we’ve been extremely fortunate because none of the events have really caused widespread damage or loss of life.
Thank you so much to everyone who sent me and/or Thom (who perhaps shall henceforth be referred to as my personal secretary… I’m kidding, I love you!) an email to make sure everything was alright down here. It means so much, and I really appreciate your concern.
About a half hour later my phone was still ringing (but unable to connect) and the words “earthquake”, “tsunami”, and “Samoa” caught my attention from the news broadcast. Samoa is pretty close to Tonga (very close if you are a giant tsunami wave) so I tried to call the emergency coordinators in my group who have satellite phones and are immediately contacted by the PC office if there is any natural or political threat to safety, but the phone network was still busy/down, and I couldn’t get through to anyone. It wasn’t until school officially started that the teachers turned on the radio, and we heard, in Tongan, that there was a tsunami warning in effect for Tonga. Massive panic ensued. Now, Tongan children, as a whole, make American kids look like tiny spoiled wimps. They do strenuous chores American children would never consider doing unless they were getting paid, they routinely run around with giant bush knives, climb coconut trees, take care of younger siblings on their own, and are seemingly impervious to cuts, scrapes, bits, and even infections. So, when the word got out that there was a tsunami warning, I was a bit surprised to see how quickly the students at school began to panic and cry, although with good reason: if a serious tsunami were ever to hit Lifuka, there’s a very slim chance that anything or anyone would survive. Immediately school was dismissed, and the kids went sprinting home or into the bush. No organization, no protocol. Just running.
I was still trying to get in touch with other volunteers, but I couldn’t get through to anyone. Not really knowing what was going on, I weighed my options: to get to the PC consolidation point or higher ground, I would have to bike/ride along the one road from my village to town, which runs right next to the shore of the island, which didn’t seem like the best idea. My school and house is located almost directly in the middle of the northern half of the island, so I decided to just stay put. My fellow teachers joined me in this strategy, since the majority of the village I live in is pretty close to the water, and in the spirit of not panicking, we made some morning tea and keke (Tongan doughnuts) and pretty much hung out. A few hours later I was able to receive a phone call from another volunteer telling me we were all clear.
We were so incredibly lucky here in Ha’apai. Only a few tsunami waves hit the main wharf in Pangai, which is virtually the best place it could have since there are no houses on the beach there, and the highest wave was no more than 3 meters. Kate and Brett, who live right on the beach in Pangai and left with their neighbors for higher ground, saw the ocean before and during the waves, and even though there wasn’t a lot of damage, it sounds terrifying. According to them, the entire harbor drained out before the waves hit, almost like the harbor was a sink and someone had pulled the drain. (For a more exciting version of the tsunami in Ha’apai, check out Kate and Brett’s blog: http://asleson.blogspot.com/) The only damage that my island incurred was to some of the boats that were at the wharf and in the harbor, but even they weren’t damaged too badly. The biggest issue was that no one was really informed and hardly anyone knew what was going on- the word tsunami (peau kula- literally ‘red wave’) was heard, and everyone understandably panicked.
Sadly, there were deaths and much more damage in the Niua island group of Tonga, which is actually closer to Samoa than it is to any other Tongan islands, and all this week there have been fundraisers within Tonga to send money and aid up to Niuatoputapu.
Talking with some of the other volunteers the other day we realized that in 2009 there have been multiple earthquakes, two cyclones, a volcanic eruption, and now a tsunami in Tonga, which is a pretty tiny country. We’ve really been blowing through those natural disasters…I think all we’re missing is a blizzard! Still, we’ve been extremely fortunate because none of the events have really caused widespread damage or loss of life.
Thank you so much to everyone who sent me and/or Thom (who perhaps shall henceforth be referred to as my personal secretary… I’m kidding, I love you!) an email to make sure everything was alright down here. It means so much, and I really appreciate your concern.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
My Bed Saga
My back has been hurting ever since I moved into my house in February. Personally, I think it has a lot to do with my bed, which was a metal frame with wire fencing in the middle. I started sleeping on the floor, but that just made my hips hurt. When Thom came to visit I brought over an air mattress from the Peace Corps office, and after he left, I put that on top of my bed. I had been talking with the medical officer of PC since May, trying to get a mattress, and finally, this week, they sent a foam pad on the boat. Happily, my neighbors also found an extra wooden bed in the house of one of their family members, and I was very excited about the possibility of a combination of the two. The boat, the Pulupaki (which is the only one we have now since the Princess Ashika sank, and this one boat system has resulted in severe food shortages, shipping delays, and painfully slow mail delivery) was spotted pulling into Pangai around 10:30, and at 11 I was at the wharf with Lupe and another woman from my village who has a truck to get my new mattress pad (fakamolu- to make soft) and then go to the village of Hihifo to pick up the bed.
The boat started to unload, and we waited. Some days the Pulupaki and her crew and quite efficient at unloading, but this time that was not the case. There’s a small hut on the wharf where tickets are sold and you can get receipts for items that are on the ship, usually with the container number. The hut was packed with Tongans, and frankly, there’s no such thing as a line in Tonga. Everyone crowds around yelling and pushing, and there’s no order or reason. After 30 minutes, I finally got up to the front of the window, but had to try and yell my name over people screaming behind me in very loud and fast Tongan. Eventually I was told there was no ticket for my item, and I called PC who told me that they did put it on the boat and there should be a ticket. I’d been near the hut for almost an hour, and decided to look around the wharf to see if it’d been unloaded yet, since if something is unloaded, it’s pretty much fair game, and, as a result, packages are mixed up sometimes. It had already been an hour and a half, and the truck that drove me had to get back to Koulo. They told me they would go pick up the bed in Hihifo and that someone else from my village would come by later.
I waited for a while longer and then decided to go back to the “office” and ask them to check the receipts again. This time, after only a 15 minute wait, I got to the front and they found my receipt. But, instead of a container number, it said “c/o Pasifiki” at the top. I asked around for a while, and finally found out that Pasifiki was a person who possibly worked on the Pulupaki and that I had to find him to get my stuff. I finally ran down one of the boys who worked on the boat, but he told me my fakamolu was on the top and I would have to wait until the boat turned around to get it (the boat had turned to back into the wharf so the forklift could drive in and unload the containers). Meanwhile, all around me was chaos. People were climbing all over the boat trying to get on or off of find things. Men on the deck were trying a rope around whatever was on board, pigs, root crops, cases of beer for the bar, and throwing it down to boys who were waiting on the gangplank, dodging the forklifts backing out with huge metal containers containing foodstuffs, cars, and cows, while people were climbing on the forklifts to get up on the ship. Chaos. I realized that all the Tongans who were supposed to have to wait for things until the ship turned were getting boys to climb up and throw stuff down, but as a palangi every time I tried to break into the Tongan system, I was shot down.
I decided to just give up and wait it out, and sat down on the wharf. Soon, a Tongan boy and girl who were about my age came over and started to talk with me. They were actually pretty funny, and spoke really good English, which only meant one thing- they were Mormon. They had both been to America and done their mission work in the Philippines, and kept switching from English to Tongan to “Filipaini” which was quite impressive. The boy told me all about his girl problems and his American girlfriend and the girl kept trying to get me to help him realize that since this girl loves him he should love her too. They were very interested to hear about my boyfriend and kept asking what the “American way” to deal with certain relationship situations would be. Both of them wanted to return to American to go to Brigham Young University in Utah or Hawai’i where there are apparently already a lot of Tongans at, and I really hope they are able to. As much as I hate the Mormons and missionaries, Tonga has me feeling pretty conflicted. One the one hand, the church brainwashes people and makes them ashamed of their traditional culture, but on the other hand it provides a lot of scholarship and opportunities to travel that wouldn’t be available otherwise. I don’t know.
Anyways, I’d been at the wharf for about three and a half hours when the person for my village who was going to give me a ride pulled up. I told him I was still waiting and he pointed to the back of his truck where there was a huge dead pig with a gunshot wound through its head that was bleeding freely. He explained that there was a church feast the next day and that he had to go bring the pig back. I told him I would find a ride back, and was very ok with the fact that I would not be riding home next to a dead bleeding pig. I made the rounds of the wharf and chatted with some people I knew. I was very hot and tired and made the mistake of buying a soda, which meant I had to go back and buy sodas for everyone I was talking with at the time, and then go back and switch two colas for orange sodas because I forgot that Mormons don’t drink caffeine.
I had almost given up hope when I saw three teenage girls flirting with some of the boys who worked on the boat and heard the name “Pasifiki”. Immediately, I ran over and stood with them, telling them I was looking for Pasifiki too. After about 15 minutes of very witty and clever remarks by the boys, we found out the Pasifiki wasn’t actually on the ship- he had stayed in Nuku’alofa. Fortunately, the young girls I was with were dressed in a very western style (which made me think they’d want to impress the palangi) and once I told them I was fiu ’e tali (full of waiting) they started yelling at the boys and telling them to go find the stuff or they would kill them (typical Tongan joking). (Brett likes to tell his kids he will hit them until the poop rainbows, which they find absolutely hysterical. I just don’t get it.) After a while he brought their box down and I started yelling at him to bring mine too. Somehow it worked and, at 3:30, four and a half hours later, I finally got my mattress pad. I walked around the shops, which were packed with people stocking up on things that were unloaded before it ran out and found some people from my village, who said they’d give me a ride, and an hour later, we left town and I finally got home with my new bed and mattress (and my first Tongan sunburn)!
The funny thing is that no one thought it was strange that I spent my whole day waiting for something off the boat. Here, things happen when they happen, and you’re probably going to have to wait. So yes, the rumors you’ve heard about island time are true. Please me kind to me when I come back home…I fear ‘Alicia time’ may need to be pushed back an hour or two.
The boat started to unload, and we waited. Some days the Pulupaki and her crew and quite efficient at unloading, but this time that was not the case. There’s a small hut on the wharf where tickets are sold and you can get receipts for items that are on the ship, usually with the container number. The hut was packed with Tongans, and frankly, there’s no such thing as a line in Tonga. Everyone crowds around yelling and pushing, and there’s no order or reason. After 30 minutes, I finally got up to the front of the window, but had to try and yell my name over people screaming behind me in very loud and fast Tongan. Eventually I was told there was no ticket for my item, and I called PC who told me that they did put it on the boat and there should be a ticket. I’d been near the hut for almost an hour, and decided to look around the wharf to see if it’d been unloaded yet, since if something is unloaded, it’s pretty much fair game, and, as a result, packages are mixed up sometimes. It had already been an hour and a half, and the truck that drove me had to get back to Koulo. They told me they would go pick up the bed in Hihifo and that someone else from my village would come by later.
I waited for a while longer and then decided to go back to the “office” and ask them to check the receipts again. This time, after only a 15 minute wait, I got to the front and they found my receipt. But, instead of a container number, it said “c/o Pasifiki” at the top. I asked around for a while, and finally found out that Pasifiki was a person who possibly worked on the Pulupaki and that I had to find him to get my stuff. I finally ran down one of the boys who worked on the boat, but he told me my fakamolu was on the top and I would have to wait until the boat turned around to get it (the boat had turned to back into the wharf so the forklift could drive in and unload the containers). Meanwhile, all around me was chaos. People were climbing all over the boat trying to get on or off of find things. Men on the deck were trying a rope around whatever was on board, pigs, root crops, cases of beer for the bar, and throwing it down to boys who were waiting on the gangplank, dodging the forklifts backing out with huge metal containers containing foodstuffs, cars, and cows, while people were climbing on the forklifts to get up on the ship. Chaos. I realized that all the Tongans who were supposed to have to wait for things until the ship turned were getting boys to climb up and throw stuff down, but as a palangi every time I tried to break into the Tongan system, I was shot down.
I decided to just give up and wait it out, and sat down on the wharf. Soon, a Tongan boy and girl who were about my age came over and started to talk with me. They were actually pretty funny, and spoke really good English, which only meant one thing- they were Mormon. They had both been to America and done their mission work in the Philippines, and kept switching from English to Tongan to “Filipaini” which was quite impressive. The boy told me all about his girl problems and his American girlfriend and the girl kept trying to get me to help him realize that since this girl loves him he should love her too. They were very interested to hear about my boyfriend and kept asking what the “American way” to deal with certain relationship situations would be. Both of them wanted to return to American to go to Brigham Young University in Utah or Hawai’i where there are apparently already a lot of Tongans at, and I really hope they are able to. As much as I hate the Mormons and missionaries, Tonga has me feeling pretty conflicted. One the one hand, the church brainwashes people and makes them ashamed of their traditional culture, but on the other hand it provides a lot of scholarship and opportunities to travel that wouldn’t be available otherwise. I don’t know.
Anyways, I’d been at the wharf for about three and a half hours when the person for my village who was going to give me a ride pulled up. I told him I was still waiting and he pointed to the back of his truck where there was a huge dead pig with a gunshot wound through its head that was bleeding freely. He explained that there was a church feast the next day and that he had to go bring the pig back. I told him I would find a ride back, and was very ok with the fact that I would not be riding home next to a dead bleeding pig. I made the rounds of the wharf and chatted with some people I knew. I was very hot and tired and made the mistake of buying a soda, which meant I had to go back and buy sodas for everyone I was talking with at the time, and then go back and switch two colas for orange sodas because I forgot that Mormons don’t drink caffeine.
I had almost given up hope when I saw three teenage girls flirting with some of the boys who worked on the boat and heard the name “Pasifiki”. Immediately, I ran over and stood with them, telling them I was looking for Pasifiki too. After about 15 minutes of very witty and clever remarks by the boys, we found out the Pasifiki wasn’t actually on the ship- he had stayed in Nuku’alofa. Fortunately, the young girls I was with were dressed in a very western style (which made me think they’d want to impress the palangi) and once I told them I was fiu ’e tali (full of waiting) they started yelling at the boys and telling them to go find the stuff or they would kill them (typical Tongan joking). (Brett likes to tell his kids he will hit them until the poop rainbows, which they find absolutely hysterical. I just don’t get it.) After a while he brought their box down and I started yelling at him to bring mine too. Somehow it worked and, at 3:30, four and a half hours later, I finally got my mattress pad. I walked around the shops, which were packed with people stocking up on things that were unloaded before it ran out and found some people from my village, who said they’d give me a ride, and an hour later, we left town and I finally got home with my new bed and mattress (and my first Tongan sunburn)!
The funny thing is that no one thought it was strange that I spent my whole day waiting for something off the boat. Here, things happen when they happen, and you’re probably going to have to wait. So yes, the rumors you’ve heard about island time are true. Please me kind to me when I come back home…I fear ‘Alicia time’ may need to be pushed back an hour or two.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Cat versus Rat
I’ve had a rat in my house for almost a month now, and we’re officially at war. He has eaten my flour, my sugar, chewed through the handle of a pan, eaten the tomatoes from my garden that are on my windows to ripen in the sun, and eaten granola that that was sent to me- low blow. In retaliation, I bought another large plastic container to store food, started doing dishes the second I finished eating, and transferred all my baking supplies to empty peanut butter jars. Still, he lingered, and that’s when I decided drastic measures needed to be taken.
That night, I went next door and returned with my neighbor’s cat. Now, this cat usually comes around during the day, starved for affection, and annoying follows me everywhere trying to rub up on my legs, usually as I’m walking and carrying something heavy. But at night she always returns to sleep next door. I figured if I locked her in at night when the rat is most active, she’d be able to kill him, eat him, and that would be that. What I didn’t count on was the fact that this may be the most annoying cat that ever lived. She spent the first hour I was trying to sleep jumping up on my in bed and trying to get attention. Then, when I threw her into the living room and shut my bedroom door she cried outside that door for the next hour (she’s persistent, I’ll give her that). At last, I heard her climb up into the roof, and I figured she’d be fine.
I was woken up the next morning at 6 o’clock because my neighbor, Fotu, a charming and loquacious four-year old, had fallen down and cut his chin and his parents, instead of cleaning his face, decided to send them to me. I washed his cut with soap (they didn’t have any), put some antibacterial cream on it, gave him a band-aid, and sent him home. The cat had watched all of this before running off into the kitchen, and I hoped she had gotten a whiff of rat and was going to finish him off.
I decided to go back to bed for another hour, and woke up at my usual time of 7:30 when the kids start showing up for school. I went into the kitchen and started boiling some water for tea when I saw the cat trapped splayed out in the window. The windows on my house, and on most Tongan buildings, are made up of panes of glass fitted vertically into holders. When you open the window the panes are vertical, and when you close then the planes are turned up horizontally. At first glance I thought the cat was dead, but as I walked closer, she started to mew. I have mosquito netting outside my windows, and she was stuck between the net and the glass. I tried to pry the window open, but the bottom of the window was clogged up by the tomatoes that had been sitting there to ripen. The glass itself was covered in cat fur and tomatoes, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an animal looking that pitiful. It was also pretty funny.
I went next door to ask Le’o for help, and finally we were able to pop one of the panes of glass out, freeing the cat. I have never seen an animal run away from something so quickly. I started cleaning up the smashed tomatoes and I realized that, along with the claw marks from the cats, there were bit marks on some of the tomatoes. The rat had been sitting on the window eating tomatoes and the cat had jumped up to try and get him and her weight had been too much, causing her to be trapped in the window and outsmarted by a rat.
I’ve yet to see signs of either rat or cat in my house for the past few days. It’s possible that they are both traumatized, a symptom I’ve seen more here in animals than anywhere else. (Case in point, Kate and Brett’s dog (sort of), Simba, was missing for a few days while we were in ‘Uoleva. Their neighbor found him eventually inside a water tank which, thankfully, was empty. How/why he was in here, no one knows, but now he spends most of his time hiding under furniture inside Kate and Brett’s house. It’s very sad.) With any luck, the rat will stay away until I can convince the cat to come back inside my house.
That night, I went next door and returned with my neighbor’s cat. Now, this cat usually comes around during the day, starved for affection, and annoying follows me everywhere trying to rub up on my legs, usually as I’m walking and carrying something heavy. But at night she always returns to sleep next door. I figured if I locked her in at night when the rat is most active, she’d be able to kill him, eat him, and that would be that. What I didn’t count on was the fact that this may be the most annoying cat that ever lived. She spent the first hour I was trying to sleep jumping up on my in bed and trying to get attention. Then, when I threw her into the living room and shut my bedroom door she cried outside that door for the next hour (she’s persistent, I’ll give her that). At last, I heard her climb up into the roof, and I figured she’d be fine.
I was woken up the next morning at 6 o’clock because my neighbor, Fotu, a charming and loquacious four-year old, had fallen down and cut his chin and his parents, instead of cleaning his face, decided to send them to me. I washed his cut with soap (they didn’t have any), put some antibacterial cream on it, gave him a band-aid, and sent him home. The cat had watched all of this before running off into the kitchen, and I hoped she had gotten a whiff of rat and was going to finish him off.
I decided to go back to bed for another hour, and woke up at my usual time of 7:30 when the kids start showing up for school. I went into the kitchen and started boiling some water for tea when I saw the cat trapped splayed out in the window. The windows on my house, and on most Tongan buildings, are made up of panes of glass fitted vertically into holders. When you open the window the panes are vertical, and when you close then the planes are turned up horizontally. At first glance I thought the cat was dead, but as I walked closer, she started to mew. I have mosquito netting outside my windows, and she was stuck between the net and the glass. I tried to pry the window open, but the bottom of the window was clogged up by the tomatoes that had been sitting there to ripen. The glass itself was covered in cat fur and tomatoes, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an animal looking that pitiful. It was also pretty funny.
I went next door to ask Le’o for help, and finally we were able to pop one of the panes of glass out, freeing the cat. I have never seen an animal run away from something so quickly. I started cleaning up the smashed tomatoes and I realized that, along with the claw marks from the cats, there were bit marks on some of the tomatoes. The rat had been sitting on the window eating tomatoes and the cat had jumped up to try and get him and her weight had been too much, causing her to be trapped in the window and outsmarted by a rat.
I’ve yet to see signs of either rat or cat in my house for the past few days. It’s possible that they are both traumatized, a symptom I’ve seen more here in animals than anywhere else. (Case in point, Kate and Brett’s dog (sort of), Simba, was missing for a few days while we were in ‘Uoleva. Their neighbor found him eventually inside a water tank which, thankfully, was empty. How/why he was in here, no one knows, but now he spends most of his time hiding under furniture inside Kate and Brett’s house. It’s very sad.) With any luck, the rat will stay away until I can convince the cat to come back inside my house.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Hiko Veve (Rubbish Clean-up)/ OMG, I Really Am My Father’s Daughter
On Saturday Brian and Sabina held a trash pick-up event at the wharf as part of International Cleanup Day. It was an event sponsored by a group called Project AWARE, which, I think, is made up of divers who work to conserve aquatic environments. All of the Peace Corps and Japanese volunteers in town came out and we spent the morning cleaning the area from the “old wharf” to the wharf, probably about a mile long. Armed with gloves and giant trash bags we all headed out to different areas and started picking up trash.
Since it was Saturday morning, everyone was in town and at the market, which is right across from the area we were cleaning and lots of people saw us. A few made fun of us (yes, teenage boys are jerks in every culture), more thanked us (“Malo e hiko veve!”) and a couple children and women even joined in and helped us. The amount of trash we found was appalling. Since it had rained pretty heavily for the days preceding, all of the garbage was soaked, which made some of it, especially the dirty diapers, downright disgusting. It was also interesting to see what the most common pieces of rubbish were- I’d have to go ahead and guess that bags from chips, candy wrappers, and ramen noodle wrappers made up a majority of the trash we collected. Areas that were overgrown with bushes hid more trash than we could have imagined, as did crevices between rocks on the wharf. The wharf itself was filthy, and none of it was hidden- people just throw all their rubbish on the ground when getting on and off of boat, and cargo boats usually just leave their packing containers there.
It took us all about 3 and a half hours to cover all the ground, and we finally had to stop because we ran out of bags to put the trash in. Our final count was about 40 bags of rubbish, which all the trash collectors posed with outside the dive shop under a banner promoting the event. Brian handed out certificates and stickers to everyone who helped (the kids and women loved this- in Tonga it’s just not an event without a certificate) and we all relaxed for a bit before heading home.
We got to talking about how frustrating it is to see all the trash around and to have so many people oblivious and apathetic to the problems that rubbish can cause, and it made me think of my father. Tim has spent the past 10 years or so walking the lake in my home town in Massachusetts picking up trash. In America, I’d say our education system is pretty good: everyone, at the very least, knows it’s bad to throw rubbish on the ground or in the lake. Still, he always comes home having picked up buckets of trash. He’s received awards from the town and the community always thanks him, yet hardly anyone goes out and helps. And yes, in high school my brother, sister, and I were routinely mortified when several times a day students and teachers would come up to us to tell us they had seen our father, yet again, picking up trash. Now, we realize what a wonderful thing he’s doing, but it really makes me wonder how, in Tonga, where awareness is nowhere near the level it is in America, how to make people care when even Americans don’t. It just goes to show that rubbish disposal and sustainable living are really global issues.
Still, there’s a representative of a non-profit called Costal Clean-Up in Pangai right now, and she’s organizing a big island-wide trash pick-up day in October. All of the school and youth are involved, and I’m really hoping this makes an impact and the kids start to understand the importance of rubbish disposal. I’ll keep you all posted.
Since it was Saturday morning, everyone was in town and at the market, which is right across from the area we were cleaning and lots of people saw us. A few made fun of us (yes, teenage boys are jerks in every culture), more thanked us (“Malo e hiko veve!”) and a couple children and women even joined in and helped us. The amount of trash we found was appalling. Since it had rained pretty heavily for the days preceding, all of the garbage was soaked, which made some of it, especially the dirty diapers, downright disgusting. It was also interesting to see what the most common pieces of rubbish were- I’d have to go ahead and guess that bags from chips, candy wrappers, and ramen noodle wrappers made up a majority of the trash we collected. Areas that were overgrown with bushes hid more trash than we could have imagined, as did crevices between rocks on the wharf. The wharf itself was filthy, and none of it was hidden- people just throw all their rubbish on the ground when getting on and off of boat, and cargo boats usually just leave their packing containers there.
It took us all about 3 and a half hours to cover all the ground, and we finally had to stop because we ran out of bags to put the trash in. Our final count was about 40 bags of rubbish, which all the trash collectors posed with outside the dive shop under a banner promoting the event. Brian handed out certificates and stickers to everyone who helped (the kids and women loved this- in Tonga it’s just not an event without a certificate) and we all relaxed for a bit before heading home.
We got to talking about how frustrating it is to see all the trash around and to have so many people oblivious and apathetic to the problems that rubbish can cause, and it made me think of my father. Tim has spent the past 10 years or so walking the lake in my home town in Massachusetts picking up trash. In America, I’d say our education system is pretty good: everyone, at the very least, knows it’s bad to throw rubbish on the ground or in the lake. Still, he always comes home having picked up buckets of trash. He’s received awards from the town and the community always thanks him, yet hardly anyone goes out and helps. And yes, in high school my brother, sister, and I were routinely mortified when several times a day students and teachers would come up to us to tell us they had seen our father, yet again, picking up trash. Now, we realize what a wonderful thing he’s doing, but it really makes me wonder how, in Tonga, where awareness is nowhere near the level it is in America, how to make people care when even Americans don’t. It just goes to show that rubbish disposal and sustainable living are really global issues.
Still, there’s a representative of a non-profit called Costal Clean-Up in Pangai right now, and she’s organizing a big island-wide trash pick-up day in October. All of the school and youth are involved, and I’m really hoping this makes an impact and the kids start to understand the importance of rubbish disposal. I’ll keep you all posted.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Uoleva ‘Eva
As last week was school vacation (our last one this year) Kate, Brett, Sarah, and I decided to go to Uoleva for a few days of palangi beach time in our bathing suits and a short break from Tongan life. Since this had already been an expensive month with whale watching and a few birthday parties we decided an economical excursion was in order: we would hitch a ride with a Tongan fishing boat going to Uiha, a nearby island, camp in tents, and cook all our food over an open coconut fire so we wouldn’t have to pay to use the kitchen at the guesthouse we would camp at. We made massive preparations, stocked up on food, and even bought some beer to keep in a cooler bag for an evening around the campfire.
Kate and Brett’s neighbor told us that there would be some Tongan boat leaving around 10 or 11am Wednesday morning, after a church concert the previous night, and that we should be ready to go by then. We all headed into town early, did our shopping and final packing and were ready to go around 10:30. Unfortunately, we forgot about Tongan time. Sometime close to 1 o’clock their neighbor and his family pulled up and told us they had to run and errand but they would be back very quickly and then we would go. We waited and waited and finally, close to 5 o’clock, they pulled up screaming at us to hurry and that we had to go right now. Yes, after 6 hours of waiting, all of a sudden we were the ones slowing them down! We went down to the old wharf, which isn’t actually a wharf anymore, just some rocks between the ocean and the land, and loaded onto a Tongan boat. There were several of them leaving for Uiha at the same time, and they all tried to race one another, shouting joking insults to boats with slower engines or more people.
Luckily we got to Uoleva before the sunset and had just enough time to set up our tents and gather wood for a fire. We made a wonderful dinner of roasted hot dogs and fish, vegetable skewers, and corn and potatoes roasted in the fire. Kate’s parents had even sent over marshmallows, which we toasted as a delicious dessert. Some friends of Brian and Sabina’s were out there as well, and they and a French couple came and sat with us around the fire. All was going well, until we felt the first rain drops, which forced us back to our tents.
The next day it just rained. It was cold and gray and yes, rainy. Somehow we managed to cook pancakes over a small fire before it got too wet, and we finished just in time. We sat out a bit and talked, and spent the day reading in our tents and coming out when it was just drizzling. It finally let up around 5, and we gathered what dry and damp wood and coconuts we could find and made another fire. Since it was still drizzling we decided to forego our dinner plans, and just made sandwiches. A few people joined us around the fire again, but once again our plans were spoiled by the rain.
It poured all night, and in the morning, wet and tired, we decided we should probably just concede defeat and head back. It was too wet to start a fire for breakfast so we snacked on some cookies while we waiting on the beach to flag down a Tongan boat to take us back to Pangai. However, it was very cold and windy on the beach, which meant boats were most likely waiting for the weather to calm down a bit before heading to town, which meant we were stranded. Luckily, a boat had been arranged to bring a couple back who were staying at the guest house and we hopped on with them, although we were disappointed because when you go as a tourist it’s pretty expensive.
Still, we were happy to be heading back and all looking forward to some hot tea/coffee and a shower, and the boat ride was fairly uneventful until we saw the Tongan man driving the boat pull out a bag and try to open it. He struggled for a few minutes, trying to open the bag while steering through the reef, and just when we realized the bag was moving he reached in, pulled out a cat, and threw it overboard. We were stunned. I got fairly upset and started asking in Tongan, “Why did you do that? Just why!?” The man told us that the cat had eaten food, and that was it. We spent the rest of the ride shocked and wondering why, if they wanted to kill the cat they didn’t just kill it with a knife, like they do with the pigs, or leave it on the deserted island we were on. Went the cat disappeared from our site it was swimming toward the island, and I really hope it made it to shore.
In the end, despite the rain, it was nice to get away for a few days. But, I realized, even if I can live hear without making giant faux pas, I will never truly understand this culture.
Kate and Brett’s neighbor told us that there would be some Tongan boat leaving around 10 or 11am Wednesday morning, after a church concert the previous night, and that we should be ready to go by then. We all headed into town early, did our shopping and final packing and were ready to go around 10:30. Unfortunately, we forgot about Tongan time. Sometime close to 1 o’clock their neighbor and his family pulled up and told us they had to run and errand but they would be back very quickly and then we would go. We waited and waited and finally, close to 5 o’clock, they pulled up screaming at us to hurry and that we had to go right now. Yes, after 6 hours of waiting, all of a sudden we were the ones slowing them down! We went down to the old wharf, which isn’t actually a wharf anymore, just some rocks between the ocean and the land, and loaded onto a Tongan boat. There were several of them leaving for Uiha at the same time, and they all tried to race one another, shouting joking insults to boats with slower engines or more people.
Luckily we got to Uoleva before the sunset and had just enough time to set up our tents and gather wood for a fire. We made a wonderful dinner of roasted hot dogs and fish, vegetable skewers, and corn and potatoes roasted in the fire. Kate’s parents had even sent over marshmallows, which we toasted as a delicious dessert. Some friends of Brian and Sabina’s were out there as well, and they and a French couple came and sat with us around the fire. All was going well, until we felt the first rain drops, which forced us back to our tents.
The next day it just rained. It was cold and gray and yes, rainy. Somehow we managed to cook pancakes over a small fire before it got too wet, and we finished just in time. We sat out a bit and talked, and spent the day reading in our tents and coming out when it was just drizzling. It finally let up around 5, and we gathered what dry and damp wood and coconuts we could find and made another fire. Since it was still drizzling we decided to forego our dinner plans, and just made sandwiches. A few people joined us around the fire again, but once again our plans were spoiled by the rain.
It poured all night, and in the morning, wet and tired, we decided we should probably just concede defeat and head back. It was too wet to start a fire for breakfast so we snacked on some cookies while we waiting on the beach to flag down a Tongan boat to take us back to Pangai. However, it was very cold and windy on the beach, which meant boats were most likely waiting for the weather to calm down a bit before heading to town, which meant we were stranded. Luckily, a boat had been arranged to bring a couple back who were staying at the guest house and we hopped on with them, although we were disappointed because when you go as a tourist it’s pretty expensive.
Still, we were happy to be heading back and all looking forward to some hot tea/coffee and a shower, and the boat ride was fairly uneventful until we saw the Tongan man driving the boat pull out a bag and try to open it. He struggled for a few minutes, trying to open the bag while steering through the reef, and just when we realized the bag was moving he reached in, pulled out a cat, and threw it overboard. We were stunned. I got fairly upset and started asking in Tongan, “Why did you do that? Just why!?” The man told us that the cat had eaten food, and that was it. We spent the rest of the ride shocked and wondering why, if they wanted to kill the cat they didn’t just kill it with a knife, like they do with the pigs, or leave it on the deserted island we were on. Went the cat disappeared from our site it was swimming toward the island, and I really hope it made it to shore.
In the end, despite the rain, it was nice to get away for a few days. But, I realized, even if I can live hear without making giant faux pas, I will never truly understand this culture.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Yes, a Small Tongan Child Broke My Foot with a Cement Block
Two Thursdays ago, the week before school vacation, I was working in the garden with the students, since no school was happening and we need to do some serious maintenance before we replow for the summer planting season. I had specifically assigned certain tasks to certain classes, since I did not want 5 year olds wielding machetes and other such things. However, some of the students got a little overexcited and, in their quest to help me, undertook tasks that may have better been left to older, stronger students.
Since we’ve been having a pig problem we decided to reinforce parts of the fence with cement cinder blocks, which the class 6 students were helping me to carry over. One class three student decided this looked like fun, despite the fact that the brick probably weights more than he does. He missed the instructions of what we were actually doing with the blocks, and walked over to my house, where I had gone in to get some string, to ask. When I came outside he was resting the block on the gate of my fence, and I was in the process of telling him to put it down when he decided to pick it up again, and promptly dropped it on my foot. It hurt. A whole lot. I didn’t want to tell any of the teachers how it happened because I knew the child would get hit, and I tried to express that it wasn’t a bit deal, just an accident, but Tongan children are big tattletales, and the poor boy was punished Tongan style.
For the next two days I hobbled around, stopping to sit on the ground with my foot up on whatever I could find, icing it with the frozen soup and fish out of my freezer. True, I was probably up and about a bit more than I should have been, but sitting alone inside my house all day is very boring and I discovered it is possible to ride a bicycle with only one foot, although it’s a bit slow. I also realized that if there’s a place to hurt your foot, this might be it, as no one judges you for not wearing footwear when you go out (my foot was too swollen)- in fact, most people don’t regardless of any medical conditions.
Almost a week later the foot was still hurting quite a bit and pretty swollen, not to mention a lovely green color, so I decided to go to the hospital. I talked briefly to a nurse who told me it’s probably fractured, but that the x-ray machine was still broken (obviously) so they couldn’t check. She offered me some children’s tylenol, which is all the hospital carries, and when I told her I had some pain killers at home she handed me a bag of antibiotics. I asked her if she thought that it was infected, and she said no, that it’s probably broken. I then told her that I didn’t want to take the antibiotics since there wasn’t an infection. I don’t think she liked this show of independent decision making, and she made it clear that there wasn’t anything to do if I wouldn’t take their pills, so I decided to make an oh-so-graceful exit.
As of now, the foot is still sore, but it’s getting better. The swelling is down, and I can put weight on it. If it’s not better by next week I’ll give in and fly to Nuku’alofa to see the doctor and x-ray machine there. In the meantime, I am actively avoiding children carrying heavy objects and keeping my eyes peeled for rogue cinder blocks.
Since we’ve been having a pig problem we decided to reinforce parts of the fence with cement cinder blocks, which the class 6 students were helping me to carry over. One class three student decided this looked like fun, despite the fact that the brick probably weights more than he does. He missed the instructions of what we were actually doing with the blocks, and walked over to my house, where I had gone in to get some string, to ask. When I came outside he was resting the block on the gate of my fence, and I was in the process of telling him to put it down when he decided to pick it up again, and promptly dropped it on my foot. It hurt. A whole lot. I didn’t want to tell any of the teachers how it happened because I knew the child would get hit, and I tried to express that it wasn’t a bit deal, just an accident, but Tongan children are big tattletales, and the poor boy was punished Tongan style.
For the next two days I hobbled around, stopping to sit on the ground with my foot up on whatever I could find, icing it with the frozen soup and fish out of my freezer. True, I was probably up and about a bit more than I should have been, but sitting alone inside my house all day is very boring and I discovered it is possible to ride a bicycle with only one foot, although it’s a bit slow. I also realized that if there’s a place to hurt your foot, this might be it, as no one judges you for not wearing footwear when you go out (my foot was too swollen)- in fact, most people don’t regardless of any medical conditions.
Almost a week later the foot was still hurting quite a bit and pretty swollen, not to mention a lovely green color, so I decided to go to the hospital. I talked briefly to a nurse who told me it’s probably fractured, but that the x-ray machine was still broken (obviously) so they couldn’t check. She offered me some children’s tylenol, which is all the hospital carries, and when I told her I had some pain killers at home she handed me a bag of antibiotics. I asked her if she thought that it was infected, and she said no, that it’s probably broken. I then told her that I didn’t want to take the antibiotics since there wasn’t an infection. I don’t think she liked this show of independent decision making, and she made it clear that there wasn’t anything to do if I wouldn’t take their pills, so I decided to make an oh-so-graceful exit.
As of now, the foot is still sore, but it’s getting better. The swelling is down, and I can put weight on it. If it’s not better by next week I’ll give in and fly to Nuku’alofa to see the doctor and x-ray machine there. In the meantime, I am actively avoiding children carrying heavy objects and keeping my eyes peeled for rogue cinder blocks.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Whale Watching
Yesterday, Brian and Sabina organized a special discounted Peace Corps/ JYCA whale watching day. Tonga is a great place to see whales (mostly humpback and pilot) in the spring as they are migrating south with their new calves, and I was so excited to spend a day on the boat and see the whales up close! In Tongan you’re allowed to swim in the water with the whales, provided you observe certain guidelines and are going out with a licensed operator, so before we got to the boat we met at the dive shop and got fitted up in wet suits and snorkel gear. Sadly, all of the old Japanese volunteers are leaving (2 in the next week, and the third in November), and were all busy packing and preparing, but a new volunteer, Koitchi (I definitely spelt that wrong- sorry!) just arrived and he joined up on our trip.
We, Brian, Sabina, Kate, Brett, Phil, Sarah, Koitchi, and I, pulled out of the wharf and almost immediately spotted a mother humpback whale and her baby. We followed them for a while until it looked like we could get in with them. All of the girls jumped in and we started swimming toward the whales, but the mother was a bit skittish and they started swimming away. Looking above the surface of the water we could see their backs and dorsal fins when they lifted them out of the water, and there were just beautiful. Beautiful and ridiculously large. Clearly, we were no match for them once they started swimming, and they quickly got out of range, so we jumped back in the boat and started following them again. We went in two more times until finally we were able to see them briefly under water, before they swam away. It was amazing.
Koitchi and Brian brought their fishing rods with them, and as we set off to try to find more whales who might want to play they started trolling their lines. After a while, Koitchi caught a huge beautiful red grouper, which Brian clubbed to death with a hammer, and it was then we decided to stop for lunch. Since we were fishing as well as whale watching we didn’t have time to land on one of the small islands to eat, so we just set everything up in the boat. Sabina had made a pasta salad, Kate and Brett and Phil had all brought cookies, and Koitchi cut up part of the fish for us to eat raw with some soy sauce.
We kept an eye out for whales the rest of the day, but didn’t spot any more. We did stop a few times to listen to them though. Brian has a special microphone that you can put underwater and it picks up the whales’ songs. We sat still for a good while just listening, and for me, that was the best part of the day. Definitely a huge perk, living in the middle of the ocean, and I hope I can spot a few offshore in the next month while they are still around.
We, Brian, Sabina, Kate, Brett, Phil, Sarah, Koitchi, and I, pulled out of the wharf and almost immediately spotted a mother humpback whale and her baby. We followed them for a while until it looked like we could get in with them. All of the girls jumped in and we started swimming toward the whales, but the mother was a bit skittish and they started swimming away. Looking above the surface of the water we could see their backs and dorsal fins when they lifted them out of the water, and there were just beautiful. Beautiful and ridiculously large. Clearly, we were no match for them once they started swimming, and they quickly got out of range, so we jumped back in the boat and started following them again. We went in two more times until finally we were able to see them briefly under water, before they swam away. It was amazing.
Koitchi and Brian brought their fishing rods with them, and as we set off to try to find more whales who might want to play they started trolling their lines. After a while, Koitchi caught a huge beautiful red grouper, which Brian clubbed to death with a hammer, and it was then we decided to stop for lunch. Since we were fishing as well as whale watching we didn’t have time to land on one of the small islands to eat, so we just set everything up in the boat. Sabina had made a pasta salad, Kate and Brett and Phil had all brought cookies, and Koitchi cut up part of the fish for us to eat raw with some soy sauce.
We kept an eye out for whales the rest of the day, but didn’t spot any more. We did stop a few times to listen to them though. Brian has a special microphone that you can put underwater and it picks up the whales’ songs. We sat still for a good while just listening, and for me, that was the best part of the day. Definitely a huge perk, living in the middle of the ocean, and I hope I can spot a few offshore in the next month while they are still around.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Naval Conclusion: Part VII
All in all, the naval aid mission to Tonga was, I think, a great success. The schools got a lot of structural help, and the workshops that were run really seemed to help some of the ministries and organizations in Pangai. Everyone still talks about the events and when the soldiers were here, although quite a few women in my village are very disappointed that daughters didn’t marry any of the single American soldiers. It was a really fun few weeks, and I’m glad I got to be here in Tonga while this all happened!
Farewell Dinner: Part VI
At the ceremony, Phil gave me some exciting news. There was to be a formal farewell dinner for the naval officers and ranking members of the Pacific Partnership that evening at Ha’apai High with the Prime Minister of Tonga and other important ministry heads, and they had invited two Peace Corps to attend. Since Grant and Phil were in their second year, they received official invitations. However, Grant was still out on his island and wouldn’t be coming into Lifuka, so Phil passed on the invitation to me. The PR officer heard about this, and then invited Kate and Brett as well so that all the PC in Lifuka would be able to go together, so that evening we all headed up to the high school, unsure of what the evening would entail.
Initially, it was a bit awkward. The Prime Minister’s office had organized the whole event, and they intended it to be a very formal and official dinner. They had assigned seating and guest lists (we had to show our invitations at the door to be let in), and, as luck would have it, Phil, Brett, and Kate were all at one table, and I was at another. However, when taking into account decorum for the evening, they didn’t factor in the open “bar” that the navy took their own initiative in providing. True, it was just regional beer and wine, but sailors, even military ones, even commanding officers, can drink. The dinner itself was delicious, and the prime ministers office did a great job of combining local Tongan feast food (roast pig, root crop, raw fish) and Americanizing locally available foods (lobster bisque, lobster in butter sauce, bread (!), salads) and the high school provided dancing throughout the meal, which the boys doing traditional war dances and the girls doing some remarkably graceful tauo’lunga. I was seated next to the minister of cultural affairs, across from one of the civilian dentists I had met while translating at the hospital, and next to an officer who actually went to GW, a fact that grew more and more amusing as our wine glasses continued to be refilled. Throughout the meal groups of Tongans began to gather outside and look through the windows until, at the time we left, the crowd was at least 10 people deep around the whole building. Everyone was talking and mingling and having a good time until disaster struck: there was no more beer left. Some members of the US navy even crawled under the table that served as the bar and dug through the trash trying to find more to drink, but to no avail. That’s when we decided to move the party over to Mariner’s.
Somehow all the Peace Corps and a few soldiers got a ride in one of the buses the navy had brought for transport the two block to Mariner’s Café where the crowd was absurd. Soldiers were spilling out onto the street and everyone was drunk- I felt like I was back home! We all had a fun night talking with American, Australian, and New Zealander navies and the Japanese volunteers who live here, and various soldiers kept buying us drinks. Some Tongans even made a little dance club-ish area by setting up a hut of coconut leaves down by the wharf where a lot of Tongan youth joined the soldiers in drinking and dancing. To date, it’s still the only time we’ve really been “out on the town” so to speak, and it was great just having other Westerners around to talk and joke with.
Initially, it was a bit awkward. The Prime Minister’s office had organized the whole event, and they intended it to be a very formal and official dinner. They had assigned seating and guest lists (we had to show our invitations at the door to be let in), and, as luck would have it, Phil, Brett, and Kate were all at one table, and I was at another. However, when taking into account decorum for the evening, they didn’t factor in the open “bar” that the navy took their own initiative in providing. True, it was just regional beer and wine, but sailors, even military ones, even commanding officers, can drink. The dinner itself was delicious, and the prime ministers office did a great job of combining local Tongan feast food (roast pig, root crop, raw fish) and Americanizing locally available foods (lobster bisque, lobster in butter sauce, bread (!), salads) and the high school provided dancing throughout the meal, which the boys doing traditional war dances and the girls doing some remarkably graceful tauo’lunga. I was seated next to the minister of cultural affairs, across from one of the civilian dentists I had met while translating at the hospital, and next to an officer who actually went to GW, a fact that grew more and more amusing as our wine glasses continued to be refilled. Throughout the meal groups of Tongans began to gather outside and look through the windows until, at the time we left, the crowd was at least 10 people deep around the whole building. Everyone was talking and mingling and having a good time until disaster struck: there was no more beer left. Some members of the US navy even crawled under the table that served as the bar and dug through the trash trying to find more to drink, but to no avail. That’s when we decided to move the party over to Mariner’s.
Somehow all the Peace Corps and a few soldiers got a ride in one of the buses the navy had brought for transport the two block to Mariner’s Café where the crowd was absurd. Soldiers were spilling out onto the street and everyone was drunk- I felt like I was back home! We all had a fun night talking with American, Australian, and New Zealander navies and the Japanese volunteers who live here, and various soldiers kept buying us drinks. Some Tongans even made a little dance club-ish area by setting up a hut of coconut leaves down by the wharf where a lot of Tongan youth joined the soldiers in drinking and dancing. To date, it’s still the only time we’ve really been “out on the town” so to speak, and it was great just having other Westerners around to talk and joke with.
School Time: Water Tanks, Painting, and, of course, a Celebration: Part V
The navy drew up different projects for each of the primary schools they worked on. They rebuilt and repainted GPS Pangai and GPS Faleloa, and worked on the toilets at some of the schools. At GPS Koulo, they gave us water tanks! Up until now, we’d been having a serious water-supply issue. All of the tanks at the school were broken, and there was no where for the kids to get water to drink or wash in or to flush the toilets when the piped water supply was out, which is fairly often. My sema vai (cement water tank) had been broken as well, but when a few members of the navy came in April to do reconnaissance and found out “an American citizen is living without water” they fixed it then, for which I am still profoundly grateful.
The soldiers came to my school armed with 3 brand new giant green plastic tanks, and spent the day digging holes and laying a cement block foundation for the tanks, setting them up, and reinstalling gutters on the school and the houses in the compound, including mine. The gutters are important because the rain goes off the roof into the gutters which run through pipes into the water tank. They also played a bit with the kids, who followed them around standing inches away, if that, and were completely star stuck. (For the next month every boy in my school played ‘American soldier’ at every opportunity: before school, during recess, after school, during school, all running around armed with sticks, making machine gun noises, and shouting out any English words they knew, primarily “Dead!” and “Winner!”.)
The next day I ran into one of the officers in town, and he told me there was some extra paint from painting the other schools and he told me they would be happy to come and paint GPS Koulo provided people from the village came to help. I called my principal and the town officer, and the next morning a few soldiers showed up with a huge supply of paint, brushes, and rollers and, with the help of most of the fathers of students at the school, painted our sad little school a very bright white with red trim, to match the uniforms of the students. While all the fathers worked, the mothers set to preparing a huge lunch for the soldiers (and the Tongan men, who ate afterwards and were a bit peeved to discover they couldn’t nap after eating, but had to get back to work). I walked around with my camera and the men and students alike would literally sprint across the school yard in order to pose with the soldiers or with the paint supplies. When they were finished, the school looked wonderful, just in time for the following day’s thank you ceremony!
Phil came that same day and helped us set up a schedule for Koulo and Holopeka’s thank you celebration for the navy. With his help we convinced my teachers that I shouldn’t dance again as one of the entertainment items, that yes, all the students should bring gifts, and no, we shouldn’t use this as an opportunity to tell them how poor Tongans are and list all the problems that we have that the navy should stay and fix. (Apparently it’s very Tongan to keep asking for more once you get something, and at other school’s teachers had actually made speeches not thanking the naval officers for coming but requesting more money/wok/materials and saying they hadn’t done enough…sometimes different cultures just clash on certain issues, and I wanted to make sure this didn’t happen in Koulo.) It wasn’t easy, but in the end, we thought we’d made our point. Phil told us what other schools had done, and we stuck to their schedule: opening speeches, entertainment numbers by the kids, thank you speeches, gift presentation, etc. My teachers obviously wanted me to emcee the event and make all the speeches, but with Phil’s help we convinced them that the soldiers would rather hear from the Tongans themselves, since that is who they came to help.
In the end Le’o, my neighbor and class 6 teacher, was elected to be the emcee and give the thank you speech and Viliami, the class 5 teacher, would give the welcome speech. My principal had to be forced to receive the donations from the navy and just say thank you. Le’o and Viliami asked if I would write the speeches for them, and I told them I would not, but that I would help them if they wanted to come to my house that night. In true Tongan fashion, when they showed up, they asked where the speech that I had written for them was, and were astounded to find that I actually didn’t write it for them. (This happens all the time with a few high school girls and girls taking classes at the USP (University of the South Pacific) branch in Pangai I help with English assignment.) So, we sat down and together wrote the speeches. I did have to do a bit of editing, namely convincing them to just say thank you and not ask for more, but all in all, they did a wonderful job and came up with some very kind things to say.
The next day, preparations started around 5 am. Parents arrived and mowed the grass and set up tents and benches on the school yard. I was barricaded in my kitchen having been asked to make 15 cakes the night before (I settled on carrot cake, banana bread/cake, and ‘chocolate’ cake) and pizzas so that the soldiers could have some American food at the lunch, which we set up buffet style under the awning outside one of the school room buildings.
The soldiers arrived around 10 o’clock, and the program started. The whole school performed a dance, and some of the girls did a special tauo’lunga dance, and everyone looked adorable in their costumes. Le’o and Viliami, despite being nervous to speak in English gave wonderful speeches (I was so proud!) and my principal, Manusiu, had to be pulled out from the crowd to accept the navy’s gifts of soccer balls, mini Frisbees, and school supplies. The families also really outdid themselves with gifts for the soldiers, and brought all sorts of Tongan handicrafts. The naval brass band was there, and between each item in the program they played songs, which all the kids ran up and danced to. Some of the older women, who love to clown and get a laugh, were being particularly bold and kept trying to escort embarrassed soldiers away so they could flirt with them and kept pulling the commanding officer up to dance. The soldiers were great sports about all of it, and the kids had a blast.
Right before we were going to eat the lunch, we heard a loud noise from the sky, and the kids went crazy. The navy had a few helicopters on board the ship and at each school visit they landed the helicopter for the kids. Since my school is right next to the airport and our yard is pretty small, they landed the helicopter right off of the runways, and we walked the kids around on the main road, while their parents jumped fences and climbed through bushes to get there faster. The helicopter crew was a riot, just what you’d expect helicopter pilots to be, and everyone loved them. They let all the kids climb into the cockpit and sit in the pilot’s seat, and each one of them wanted their picture taken (I think I have photos of about half the school sitting in the helicopter). Once the students had all been though the parents climbed in, and they seemed even more excited than their children. They’ve all apparently seen ‘Top Gun’ (which I still haven’t) and the men all wanted to exact flying maneuvers and war scenes. A surprising number had the same idea to yell into the radio “Mayday!” while everyone else looked on and laughed.
After everyone had a turn, we went back to the school yard where we ate and then wrapped up the ceremony with songs from the DJ and the brass band and lots of dancing. It was a wonderfully fun day, and I haven’t seen the students so excited before or since. I just hope the boys will lay off the soldier game; I’m a little tired of being ambushed every time I go out of the back of my house to get water.
The soldiers came to my school armed with 3 brand new giant green plastic tanks, and spent the day digging holes and laying a cement block foundation for the tanks, setting them up, and reinstalling gutters on the school and the houses in the compound, including mine. The gutters are important because the rain goes off the roof into the gutters which run through pipes into the water tank. They also played a bit with the kids, who followed them around standing inches away, if that, and were completely star stuck. (For the next month every boy in my school played ‘American soldier’ at every opportunity: before school, during recess, after school, during school, all running around armed with sticks, making machine gun noises, and shouting out any English words they knew, primarily “Dead!” and “Winner!”.)
The next day I ran into one of the officers in town, and he told me there was some extra paint from painting the other schools and he told me they would be happy to come and paint GPS Koulo provided people from the village came to help. I called my principal and the town officer, and the next morning a few soldiers showed up with a huge supply of paint, brushes, and rollers and, with the help of most of the fathers of students at the school, painted our sad little school a very bright white with red trim, to match the uniforms of the students. While all the fathers worked, the mothers set to preparing a huge lunch for the soldiers (and the Tongan men, who ate afterwards and were a bit peeved to discover they couldn’t nap after eating, but had to get back to work). I walked around with my camera and the men and students alike would literally sprint across the school yard in order to pose with the soldiers or with the paint supplies. When they were finished, the school looked wonderful, just in time for the following day’s thank you ceremony!
Phil came that same day and helped us set up a schedule for Koulo and Holopeka’s thank you celebration for the navy. With his help we convinced my teachers that I shouldn’t dance again as one of the entertainment items, that yes, all the students should bring gifts, and no, we shouldn’t use this as an opportunity to tell them how poor Tongans are and list all the problems that we have that the navy should stay and fix. (Apparently it’s very Tongan to keep asking for more once you get something, and at other school’s teachers had actually made speeches not thanking the naval officers for coming but requesting more money/wok/materials and saying they hadn’t done enough…sometimes different cultures just clash on certain issues, and I wanted to make sure this didn’t happen in Koulo.) It wasn’t easy, but in the end, we thought we’d made our point. Phil told us what other schools had done, and we stuck to their schedule: opening speeches, entertainment numbers by the kids, thank you speeches, gift presentation, etc. My teachers obviously wanted me to emcee the event and make all the speeches, but with Phil’s help we convinced them that the soldiers would rather hear from the Tongans themselves, since that is who they came to help.
In the end Le’o, my neighbor and class 6 teacher, was elected to be the emcee and give the thank you speech and Viliami, the class 5 teacher, would give the welcome speech. My principal had to be forced to receive the donations from the navy and just say thank you. Le’o and Viliami asked if I would write the speeches for them, and I told them I would not, but that I would help them if they wanted to come to my house that night. In true Tongan fashion, when they showed up, they asked where the speech that I had written for them was, and were astounded to find that I actually didn’t write it for them. (This happens all the time with a few high school girls and girls taking classes at the USP (University of the South Pacific) branch in Pangai I help with English assignment.) So, we sat down and together wrote the speeches. I did have to do a bit of editing, namely convincing them to just say thank you and not ask for more, but all in all, they did a wonderful job and came up with some very kind things to say.
The next day, preparations started around 5 am. Parents arrived and mowed the grass and set up tents and benches on the school yard. I was barricaded in my kitchen having been asked to make 15 cakes the night before (I settled on carrot cake, banana bread/cake, and ‘chocolate’ cake) and pizzas so that the soldiers could have some American food at the lunch, which we set up buffet style under the awning outside one of the school room buildings.
The soldiers arrived around 10 o’clock, and the program started. The whole school performed a dance, and some of the girls did a special tauo’lunga dance, and everyone looked adorable in their costumes. Le’o and Viliami, despite being nervous to speak in English gave wonderful speeches (I was so proud!) and my principal, Manusiu, had to be pulled out from the crowd to accept the navy’s gifts of soccer balls, mini Frisbees, and school supplies. The families also really outdid themselves with gifts for the soldiers, and brought all sorts of Tongan handicrafts. The naval brass band was there, and between each item in the program they played songs, which all the kids ran up and danced to. Some of the older women, who love to clown and get a laugh, were being particularly bold and kept trying to escort embarrassed soldiers away so they could flirt with them and kept pulling the commanding officer up to dance. The soldiers were great sports about all of it, and the kids had a blast.
Right before we were going to eat the lunch, we heard a loud noise from the sky, and the kids went crazy. The navy had a few helicopters on board the ship and at each school visit they landed the helicopter for the kids. Since my school is right next to the airport and our yard is pretty small, they landed the helicopter right off of the runways, and we walked the kids around on the main road, while their parents jumped fences and climbed through bushes to get there faster. The helicopter crew was a riot, just what you’d expect helicopter pilots to be, and everyone loved them. They let all the kids climb into the cockpit and sit in the pilot’s seat, and each one of them wanted their picture taken (I think I have photos of about half the school sitting in the helicopter). Once the students had all been though the parents climbed in, and they seemed even more excited than their children. They’ve all apparently seen ‘Top Gun’ (which I still haven’t) and the men all wanted to exact flying maneuvers and war scenes. A surprising number had the same idea to yell into the radio “Mayday!” while everyone else looked on and laughed.
After everyone had a turn, we went back to the school yard where we ate and then wrapped up the ceremony with songs from the DJ and the brass band and lots of dancing. It was a wonderfully fun day, and I haven’t seen the students so excited before or since. I just hope the boys will lay off the soldier game; I’m a little tired of being ambushed every time I go out of the back of my house to get water.
Ship Tour: Our Time on American Territory: Part IV
On July 17th, a Saturday, the public relations officer of the mission invited all the Peace Corps volunteers on a guided tour of the ship, the USNS Richard E. Byrd. Like every naval vessel, the ship is technically considered sovereign U.S. territory, so for a few hours that afternoon we were back home, a fact we found rather funny that also made us a bit homesick.We were taken out to where the ship was anchored (I think it was a few miles offshore) and when we finally pulled up next to the ship, we were shocked at how huge it actually was. The first thing we saw, after we climbed up the world’s narrowest flight of stairs to the level right below the deck, were lines of heavy machinery (think bobcats and whatnot) taking up a tiny portion of the storage space, which gave us an idea of just how large this boat was. We were given our tour by a very cool member of the non-naval crew (we later found out that most of the actual ship’s crew weren’t members of the military) who showed us around and kept us from getting lost. We got to see the top decks, the steering and control room, play with the giant binoculars on the deck, visit the engine room, and roam the halls. Highlights definitely included the water bubblers that were on every floor of the ship, climbing flights of stairs for the first time since October, seeing the cafeteria, finding out there were televisions in every lounge that somehow were able to get American TV and catching a glimpse of a live MLB game (!), walking by an ammunitions storeroom and seeing a crew member unloading cases of Budweiser (since this was a humanitarian mission the ship didn’t carry any weapons, and the soldiers used that extra space to store the beer they brought with them from America since on previous occasions they had drank small island nations out of beer- we also learned that there was a naval party planning committee of sorts onboard that organized the purchase of said beer and other fun things), and, finally, the ship store. It was packed with all sorts of processed food (soda, chips, dips, cheese sticks) that I would have avoided back home, but suddenly found irresistibly appealing. The ship only took American cash, which sadly I had none of, but people were kind and lent me enough to buy some goldfish and a Klondike bar…heaven! We went crazy in there, and certain individuals practically bought out the store- it was wonderful. I never thought that being inside a mini 7-11 would make me miss home, but there you go. It was definitely a bit tough to get back on the small boat and go back to Pangai, but we all went to Mariner’s afterward and consoled ourselves over beers and chips and salsa from the ship’s store.
Dentists and Translations, Nutrition Classes, and Veterinarians: Part III
After the welcome ceremony was officially over, I stayed around to help clean up and pack away mats. The assistant governor asked me to come help translate at the hospital, so I went to a meeting at the governor’s office first, and then down to the hospital for about 4 hours that afternoon with one of the teachers from my school and helped some dentists explain things in Tongan. I now know all sorts of handy words like cavity (literally, 'little hole'), decay, brush your teeth, important, filling, drill, and dentures- pretty cool, I know.
I went back to help translate for a few hours after school for the rest of the week, and it was really shocking to see the state of teeth in Tonga. Most of the problems people came in with were as a result of rotting teeth, everyone from older men and women to little children. Some of the elder women didn’t even know what a toothbrush was, which was a bit disheartening, but all of the kids did- Tonga has a tooth brushing program at all of the primary schools, and it seems to be doing a good job at installing basic dental hygiene. Since the navy wasn’t able to bring all of its’ equipment for any of the projects (they had to downsize to a smaller ship because the one they were planning on bringing had a case of swine flu and public relations issues arose) and there were only a few dentists for the entire population of Ha’apai most teeth were simply pulled if the cavity was too large or they needed a root canal. They also did special fluoride treatments for the children, which terrified them for some reason (I think it may have been because they were told they couldn’t eat sugar for the rest of the day after: no lollies, no soda, no ice cream…scary stuff).
I biked to the hospital every day after school for the first week the navy was here to help with translation, but by the second week there were enough people in the community coming to see the doctors who knew basic English and could help out, which was good because I was able to go and sit in on some basic nutrition and food sanitation classes that were run in the MAFFF (Ministry of Agriculture, Food, Forestry, and Fisheries) office that Kate works in. Those sessions were really interesting because they had some good information and statistics, especially concerning food and the major health problems in Tonga, heart disease and diabetes, and because some women from local women’s groups attended and it was really helpful to watch their reactions to information and hear their questions. Kate and I really enjoyed the information they gave out, but we did realize that a lot of the basic health solutions which are taken for granted in America aren’t as easy in Tonga for economic and cultural reasons. For example, most families here on the main island do not have refrigerators, and those who do just have deep freezers, so saving leftovers in the refrigerator to prevent bacteria growth isn’t feasible most of the time. And, our island has electricity most of the time. Many of the outer islands in Ha’apai don’t have electricity at all, or only for a few hours at night when they turn on a generator so the men at kava can watch rugby. Also, when cooking for a kai pola (feast) most of the food preparation is done the night before, as there is no way you can cook for 30 people (at minimum) the day of an event- everyone is up all night the night before as it is. Still, it gave us a lot to think about, and gave me some great facts that I’m trying to use for my nutrition classes at school, and the soldiers who ran the session were so nice and really fun. They even snuck us American food off the ship in their backpacks: bagels, cream cheese, and cereal!
There were also two teams of veterinarians at MAFFF, one who made visits to different villages to look at sick pigs, horses, cows, and goats (most had parasites), and one who stayed at the office and spayed and neutered dogs. Apparently on other pacific islands, especially Samoa, Fiji, and Kiribati, they have a huge problem with the number of stray dogs, and their neutering services were very much in demand. Here in Tonga, we don’t really have a problem with dogs- they all “belong” to someone and tend to stay around their turf. Some are definitely underfed and malnourished, but they still are a certain family’s dog. Tongans also love puppies (as had been made abundantly clear by the frequent theft of puppies) and like their dogs to breed, so they weren’t all that interested in these services. Us palangais were though, and almost all of the foreigners living on Lifuka brought their dog or cat to be fixed. Since my neighbor had already taken a bush knife to my dog, I just stopped in to watch and get some heartworm pills for Muimui.
Kate and Brett brought their dog, Lucky (who is my dog’s sister), to be spayed, since they didn’t want her ending up like most of the female dogs here- constantly pregnant. We didn’t realize what an invasive operation it would be, and poor Lucky was pretty pitiful for the days following during her recovery. She was terrified of the needles, and, as a result, of white people in fatigues, and defecated all over one of the vets a couple times while they were here, which was sad since she was so terrified, but also a little funny, as was watching the dogs come in and out of the sedative they gave them. Kate and Brett also brought their neighbor’s dog, Simba (also from the same litter), and were told the procedure would be much simpler: all they did was inject a shot into his balls to sterilize him. All seemed well until the site of the injection became infected, and Simba had to be brought back several times, which he did not like, and somehow built up a resistance to the sedative shot, which means he was given larger and larger doses. Since he kept licking the infection, one of the navy vets made him a cone out of a pink plastic trash can which was duct-taped around his neck, much to Simba’s dismay and consternation. As a result of their medical mishaps, Lucky and Simba had to stay inside for a few days, and Kate and Brett’s house was like a sick bay. They couldn’t turn on the lights or have loud noises near the dogs because, combined with the anesthesia, it made the dogs hallucinate. If there’s anything more pathetic than a scared and hallucinating dog, I’ve yet to see it, and I don’t think I’d want to. Still, in the end, both dogs recovered, although they both continued to run with their tails between their legs and hide every time they saw someone in the navy.
I went back to help translate for a few hours after school for the rest of the week, and it was really shocking to see the state of teeth in Tonga. Most of the problems people came in with were as a result of rotting teeth, everyone from older men and women to little children. Some of the elder women didn’t even know what a toothbrush was, which was a bit disheartening, but all of the kids did- Tonga has a tooth brushing program at all of the primary schools, and it seems to be doing a good job at installing basic dental hygiene. Since the navy wasn’t able to bring all of its’ equipment for any of the projects (they had to downsize to a smaller ship because the one they were planning on bringing had a case of swine flu and public relations issues arose) and there were only a few dentists for the entire population of Ha’apai most teeth were simply pulled if the cavity was too large or they needed a root canal. They also did special fluoride treatments for the children, which terrified them for some reason (I think it may have been because they were told they couldn’t eat sugar for the rest of the day after: no lollies, no soda, no ice cream…scary stuff).
I biked to the hospital every day after school for the first week the navy was here to help with translation, but by the second week there were enough people in the community coming to see the doctors who knew basic English and could help out, which was good because I was able to go and sit in on some basic nutrition and food sanitation classes that were run in the MAFFF (Ministry of Agriculture, Food, Forestry, and Fisheries) office that Kate works in. Those sessions were really interesting because they had some good information and statistics, especially concerning food and the major health problems in Tonga, heart disease and diabetes, and because some women from local women’s groups attended and it was really helpful to watch their reactions to information and hear their questions. Kate and I really enjoyed the information they gave out, but we did realize that a lot of the basic health solutions which are taken for granted in America aren’t as easy in Tonga for economic and cultural reasons. For example, most families here on the main island do not have refrigerators, and those who do just have deep freezers, so saving leftovers in the refrigerator to prevent bacteria growth isn’t feasible most of the time. And, our island has electricity most of the time. Many of the outer islands in Ha’apai don’t have electricity at all, or only for a few hours at night when they turn on a generator so the men at kava can watch rugby. Also, when cooking for a kai pola (feast) most of the food preparation is done the night before, as there is no way you can cook for 30 people (at minimum) the day of an event- everyone is up all night the night before as it is. Still, it gave us a lot to think about, and gave me some great facts that I’m trying to use for my nutrition classes at school, and the soldiers who ran the session were so nice and really fun. They even snuck us American food off the ship in their backpacks: bagels, cream cheese, and cereal!
There were also two teams of veterinarians at MAFFF, one who made visits to different villages to look at sick pigs, horses, cows, and goats (most had parasites), and one who stayed at the office and spayed and neutered dogs. Apparently on other pacific islands, especially Samoa, Fiji, and Kiribati, they have a huge problem with the number of stray dogs, and their neutering services were very much in demand. Here in Tonga, we don’t really have a problem with dogs- they all “belong” to someone and tend to stay around their turf. Some are definitely underfed and malnourished, but they still are a certain family’s dog. Tongans also love puppies (as had been made abundantly clear by the frequent theft of puppies) and like their dogs to breed, so they weren’t all that interested in these services. Us palangais were though, and almost all of the foreigners living on Lifuka brought their dog or cat to be fixed. Since my neighbor had already taken a bush knife to my dog, I just stopped in to watch and get some heartworm pills for Muimui.
Kate and Brett brought their dog, Lucky (who is my dog’s sister), to be spayed, since they didn’t want her ending up like most of the female dogs here- constantly pregnant. We didn’t realize what an invasive operation it would be, and poor Lucky was pretty pitiful for the days following during her recovery. She was terrified of the needles, and, as a result, of white people in fatigues, and defecated all over one of the vets a couple times while they were here, which was sad since she was so terrified, but also a little funny, as was watching the dogs come in and out of the sedative they gave them. Kate and Brett also brought their neighbor’s dog, Simba (also from the same litter), and were told the procedure would be much simpler: all they did was inject a shot into his balls to sterilize him. All seemed well until the site of the injection became infected, and Simba had to be brought back several times, which he did not like, and somehow built up a resistance to the sedative shot, which means he was given larger and larger doses. Since he kept licking the infection, one of the navy vets made him a cone out of a pink plastic trash can which was duct-taped around his neck, much to Simba’s dismay and consternation. As a result of their medical mishaps, Lucky and Simba had to stay inside for a few days, and Kate and Brett’s house was like a sick bay. They couldn’t turn on the lights or have loud noises near the dogs because, combined with the anesthesia, it made the dogs hallucinate. If there’s anything more pathetic than a scared and hallucinating dog, I’ve yet to see it, and I don’t think I’d want to. Still, in the end, both dogs recovered, although they both continued to run with their tails between their legs and hide every time they saw someone in the navy.
The Naval Welcome Ceremony: Part II
On Monday, July 13th, the large ship arrived and on Tuesday there was a welcome
ceremony at Ha'apai High School. It was moved inside since it was raining like crazy, and the whole thing was a bit packed and claustrophobic. Students from three of the primary schools, their families, high school students and teachers, the town and district officers, and the naval officers all gathered inside.
Faleloa (Sarah's school) and my school were enlisted to provide the entertainment. And, since this is Tonga, drama ensued and nothing went according to plan. My school planned to use the dance they learned last year for the coronation, and they did a few refresher lessons the week before they arrived during school (obviously). The governor’s office called my principal and me on Friday and informed us that they wanted me to dance with the school for the soldiers. My principal told me she'd send her daughter and a few other girls over to my house on Saturday and Sunday to teach me the dance. In true Tongan form, despite phone calls, no one ever came, and since I was still feeling pretty sick and tired, I didn't track them down. Monday was a holiday, and with no school, all the girls were supposed to come to practice all day. However, it poured for almost 24 hours and we got a few feet of water, so obviously that didn't happen. Around 2 I called my principal again, and she promised to send girls over at 2:30- they got to the school a bit after 5. We started teaching me the dance and after the first verse another one of my teachers decided that we weren't going to have enough time to prepare so I should refresh the solo dance I'd learned before, and Koulo would do two dances. I also later learned that there was a CD availability issue (the CD with the song the students dance to belonged to a DJ in another village who was in NZ and had the CD in a locked briefcase that no one knew the combination to...they were practicing with a DVD from the coronation). Since this decision was made around 8:30 I didn't get to start practicing the other dance until after 9 with Lupe, who also stayed up all night perfecting my costume since I would now be dancing alone.
We got up early and went to the school where all the female students along with myself and Sarah were stripped down right outside the auditorium by anxious mothers and wrapped up in our tau'olunga costumes. 5 of the girls from Koulo were sick, another one fainted, and one more threw up, so our numbers were down considerably. Without any warning we were rushed into the auditorium and were all standing at the front. My principal took this opportunity to inform me that I would not be dancing alone, but with the students- the dance that I knew 1 minute of because no one ever came to teach me and that I was told to stop learning to practice the other one all night. I got very angry and frustrated and dizzy and had to sit down, which made them think I was even angrier
and wouldn't dance.
Meanwhile, the DJ started playing music for Faleloa's dance even though Koulo was standing up there, so the other school ran in and stood in front of us and started dancing. I was quite upset that I was now going to have to stand up there with my students for a dance I don't know in front of a bunch of officers. But as soon as Faleloa's dance is over they start playing the music to my solo dance...big wtf. My teacher literally shoved me in front of the platform, and I did my dance without passing out (I was so nervous) and then we all filed outside. Apparently they didn't have the CD to the song the students were supposed to dance to, but the message was reversed in the telling. So much stress- I don't think Tongans understand why this would be such a big deal to me. Luckily, all in all, the dance went pretty well.
I changed out of my costume, and met the commander and a bunch of other officers
who were very nice, along with the other volunteers: Kate, Bret, Phil, Grant, and Sarah. While we were mingling, the navy brass band started playing, and the kids went nuts. They all gathered around the band, dancing and jumping up and down, which was pretty adorable to watch. High school girls walked around with cups of sugar-coffee for the soldiers and tried to impress them and catch their eye with lots of hair flipping and dance moves right out of rap videos. I was later told that all these American soldiers were prime marriage material, and for the rest of their time here, it was fun watching the teenage and twenty-year old girls pursue various unsuspecting and uncomfortable men.
ceremony at Ha'apai High School. It was moved inside since it was raining like crazy, and the whole thing was a bit packed and claustrophobic. Students from three of the primary schools, their families, high school students and teachers, the town and district officers, and the naval officers all gathered inside.
Faleloa (Sarah's school) and my school were enlisted to provide the entertainment. And, since this is Tonga, drama ensued and nothing went according to plan. My school planned to use the dance they learned last year for the coronation, and they did a few refresher lessons the week before they arrived during school (obviously). The governor’s office called my principal and me on Friday and informed us that they wanted me to dance with the school for the soldiers. My principal told me she'd send her daughter and a few other girls over to my house on Saturday and Sunday to teach me the dance. In true Tongan form, despite phone calls, no one ever came, and since I was still feeling pretty sick and tired, I didn't track them down. Monday was a holiday, and with no school, all the girls were supposed to come to practice all day. However, it poured for almost 24 hours and we got a few feet of water, so obviously that didn't happen. Around 2 I called my principal again, and she promised to send girls over at 2:30- they got to the school a bit after 5. We started teaching me the dance and after the first verse another one of my teachers decided that we weren't going to have enough time to prepare so I should refresh the solo dance I'd learned before, and Koulo would do two dances. I also later learned that there was a CD availability issue (the CD with the song the students dance to belonged to a DJ in another village who was in NZ and had the CD in a locked briefcase that no one knew the combination to...they were practicing with a DVD from the coronation). Since this decision was made around 8:30 I didn't get to start practicing the other dance until after 9 with Lupe, who also stayed up all night perfecting my costume since I would now be dancing alone.
We got up early and went to the school where all the female students along with myself and Sarah were stripped down right outside the auditorium by anxious mothers and wrapped up in our tau'olunga costumes. 5 of the girls from Koulo were sick, another one fainted, and one more threw up, so our numbers were down considerably. Without any warning we were rushed into the auditorium and were all standing at the front. My principal took this opportunity to inform me that I would not be dancing alone, but with the students- the dance that I knew 1 minute of because no one ever came to teach me and that I was told to stop learning to practice the other one all night. I got very angry and frustrated and dizzy and had to sit down, which made them think I was even angrier
and wouldn't dance.
Meanwhile, the DJ started playing music for Faleloa's dance even though Koulo was standing up there, so the other school ran in and stood in front of us and started dancing. I was quite upset that I was now going to have to stand up there with my students for a dance I don't know in front of a bunch of officers. But as soon as Faleloa's dance is over they start playing the music to my solo dance...big wtf. My teacher literally shoved me in front of the platform, and I did my dance without passing out (I was so nervous) and then we all filed outside. Apparently they didn't have the CD to the song the students were supposed to dance to, but the message was reversed in the telling. So much stress- I don't think Tongans understand why this would be such a big deal to me. Luckily, all in all, the dance went pretty well.
I changed out of my costume, and met the commander and a bunch of other officers
who were very nice, along with the other volunteers: Kate, Bret, Phil, Grant, and Sarah. While we were mingling, the navy brass band started playing, and the kids went nuts. They all gathered around the band, dancing and jumping up and down, which was pretty adorable to watch. High school girls walked around with cups of sugar-coffee for the soldiers and tried to impress them and catch their eye with lots of hair flipping and dance moves right out of rap videos. I was later told that all these American soldiers were prime marriage material, and for the rest of their time here, it was fun watching the teenage and twenty-year old girls pursue various unsuspecting and uncomfortable men.
The Navy Arrives: Part I
(Yes, to begin with, I have been meaning to write this post for over a month...now almost two months...) In the middle of July the navy came to Ha’apai. A U.S. naval ship, the Richard E. Byrd, carrying a couple hundred military and civilian volunteers arrived in Tonga as part of a humanitarian mission. Officially titled the “Pacific Partnership”, it was comprised of people from the U.S., Canada, New Zealand, Australia, and Singapore who came as part of their tour through the Pacific, visiting and working in Kiribati, Marshall Islands, Samoa, the Solomon Islands, and Tonga. The official mission statement for, well, the mission, is to provide humanitarian assistance and disaster relief and disaster relief planning. Here, the projects focused on health services and improving the government primary schools (technically, I think they called it ‘civil engineering’), and although most of the projects took place on the main two islands of Lifuka and Foa, a few medical teams were sent out (via helicopter!) to three of the larger outer islands in the group. On the main island, Lifuka, the navy completely took over our hospital, and had general doctors, dentists, and optometrists available for almost two weeks to whomever came for free, which was pretty amazing. Usually, our hospital is understaffed (by that I mean, there’s only one doctor) and empty (all he and the nurses can do is administer children’s tylenol and antibiotics; there are no x-ray machines (been broken for as long as I’ve been here), never mind MRIs, and if anything serious happens you either go to Tongatapu or, in most cases, do nothing and apply Tongan ‘medicine’/ traditional remedies), and it was such a change to see the place overrun, with people waiting throughout the building and outside. At the hospital they brought literally thousands of eye glasses, tooth brushes, and ran clinics on CPR, First Aid, and nutrition. There was also a team of veterinarians that traveled around checking up on the pigs, cows, horses, and goats of the two main islands, and spaying and neutering dogs that were brought in. But, I’m getting ahead of myself...
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Welcome/ Packing Suggestions for Group 75!
Greetings PC Tonga Group 75! First, congratulations on finally getting your invitation! I hope you’re excited to finally get to Tonga, and believe me, we’re excited to meet you all in October. I’ve heard from other volunteers that some people upon learning their PC country assignment actually do research and check out the blogs of current volunteers for ideas and suggestions of what to bring/ expect…wish I had been that organized.
Anyways, I’ve compiled a short list of things to pack that are beneficial while living in Tonga. By no means will you be able to fit all of what you need into your allotted luggage weight, and, like most of us here, will probably rely on packages from friends and family. (Let me take that beautiful segway to say thank you to my mother, who is wonderful.) Admittedly, this will be more useful to girls, at least in the clothing section, but hopefully there will be tips for all.
Kitchen:
- good kitchen knives, especially one for fish
- measuring cups (liquid and solid, especially if you’re a big baker)
- a frying pan, although less critical
- hanging 3 basket set (complete lifesaver)
- tea/ coffee (depending on your preference- hard to find good stuff here)
- spices (can find the basics here, but, again, if you’re a big cook, you’ll want more)
- bullion cubes
- Brita filter (may seem excessive, but I’ve found it handy)
Bathroom:
- a few bottles of shampoo/ conditioner and soap (sometimes it’s just nice to smell good after a bucket bath)
- contact solution (if you wear contacts)
- tampons (available in Nuku’alofa, but not outside the capital)
- medications: pain killers (Tylenol/Aleeve), cold/flu pills, cough drops
- towel and camping towel
Bedroom
- one set of sheets (tough to find here)
- sleeping bag (for cold nights)
- sleep sack (or something light and compact for summer)
Clothing
- as a general rule, attire is less strict than your welcome packet makes it sound- girls, bring t-shirts and short sleeved button downs, especially in light-weight materials- it doesn’t matter if your arms show. Bring things a bit baggy, because most women here gain weight (yay simple carbs). Conversely, most men lose weight. Also, any clothes you bring here, you will not be bring back home- this country destroys clothing- so don’t pack super nice things!
- more underwear than you think you need (it disintegrates quickly)
- comfortable bras (avoid underwire- it rusts)
- tank tops, especially with wider straps- I wear these around my house
- summer dresses (I wear them over my long Tongan skirt and t-shirts)
- a few sweatshirts/ sweaters (it gets pretty chilly in the winter)
- a pair of sweatpants (again, cold nights)
- a pair or two of linen/ lightweight pants/capris
- swimming shorts
- bathing suits (you will get to wear these sometimes!)
- sewing kit
- rain coat
- I don’t find that I need much jewelry, make-up, or hair dryers, etc., but it’s personal preference
- sneakers (if you run)
- flip flops/ crocs
- sturdy hiking/walking sandal (don’t bring much footwear- you’re only really going to need 3 pairs of shoes/sandals)
Misc.
- watch
- tent (if you plan on doing some camping)
- duct tape (a must have)
- gifts for homestay family (calendar of your home, small toys, books, scented soaps/candles)
- i-pod or music device with external speakers (yes, you will be singing out loud while alone in your house, and it will be wonderful)
- external hard drive (great for photo and movie storage, plus computers die in Tonga)
- rechargeable batteries (Tonga has no battery disposal or recycling)
- flashlight and headlamp
- Leatherman/ utility tool
- snorkel gear (although there is some floating around the PC offices)
- photos of family and friends
Best of luck wrapping up everything back home, and enjoy the whirlwind of the last month in the US. Take as many hot showers as possible and eat at all your favorite restaurants. If you have any questions, please feel free to email me. I’m looking forward to meeting you all in a month or so!
Anyways, I’ve compiled a short list of things to pack that are beneficial while living in Tonga. By no means will you be able to fit all of what you need into your allotted luggage weight, and, like most of us here, will probably rely on packages from friends and family. (Let me take that beautiful segway to say thank you to my mother, who is wonderful.) Admittedly, this will be more useful to girls, at least in the clothing section, but hopefully there will be tips for all.
Kitchen:
- good kitchen knives, especially one for fish
- measuring cups (liquid and solid, especially if you’re a big baker)
- a frying pan, although less critical
- hanging 3 basket set (complete lifesaver)
- tea/ coffee (depending on your preference- hard to find good stuff here)
- spices (can find the basics here, but, again, if you’re a big cook, you’ll want more)
- bullion cubes
- Brita filter (may seem excessive, but I’ve found it handy)
Bathroom:
- a few bottles of shampoo/ conditioner and soap (sometimes it’s just nice to smell good after a bucket bath)
- contact solution (if you wear contacts)
- tampons (available in Nuku’alofa, but not outside the capital)
- medications: pain killers (Tylenol/Aleeve), cold/flu pills, cough drops
- towel and camping towel
Bedroom
- one set of sheets (tough to find here)
- sleeping bag (for cold nights)
- sleep sack (or something light and compact for summer)
Clothing
- as a general rule, attire is less strict than your welcome packet makes it sound- girls, bring t-shirts and short sleeved button downs, especially in light-weight materials- it doesn’t matter if your arms show. Bring things a bit baggy, because most women here gain weight (yay simple carbs). Conversely, most men lose weight. Also, any clothes you bring here, you will not be bring back home- this country destroys clothing- so don’t pack super nice things!
- more underwear than you think you need (it disintegrates quickly)
- comfortable bras (avoid underwire- it rusts)
- tank tops, especially with wider straps- I wear these around my house
- summer dresses (I wear them over my long Tongan skirt and t-shirts)
- a few sweatshirts/ sweaters (it gets pretty chilly in the winter)
- a pair of sweatpants (again, cold nights)
- a pair or two of linen/ lightweight pants/capris
- swimming shorts
- bathing suits (you will get to wear these sometimes!)
- sewing kit
- rain coat
- I don’t find that I need much jewelry, make-up, or hair dryers, etc., but it’s personal preference
- sneakers (if you run)
- flip flops/ crocs
- sturdy hiking/walking sandal (don’t bring much footwear- you’re only really going to need 3 pairs of shoes/sandals)
Misc.
- watch
- tent (if you plan on doing some camping)
- duct tape (a must have)
- gifts for homestay family (calendar of your home, small toys, books, scented soaps/candles)
- i-pod or music device with external speakers (yes, you will be singing out loud while alone in your house, and it will be wonderful)
- external hard drive (great for photo and movie storage, plus computers die in Tonga)
- rechargeable batteries (Tonga has no battery disposal or recycling)
- flashlight and headlamp
- Leatherman/ utility tool
- snorkel gear (although there is some floating around the PC offices)
- photos of family and friends
Best of luck wrapping up everything back home, and enjoy the whirlwind of the last month in the US. Take as many hot showers as possible and eat at all your favorite restaurants. If you have any questions, please feel free to email me. I’m looking forward to meeting you all in a month or so!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Sinking of the Princess Ashika
It’s been a sad and frustrating few days here in Ha’apai. One of the inter-island cargo and passenger boats that most Tongans and tourists rely on to travel to and from various islands within the country and that all cargo is transported on, sank two nights ago. The Princess Ashika, as it was called, was on its way to Pangai, the capital of Ha’apai when it sank around midnight. Some of the men who were on the top deck were able to jump overboard, some into life boats, and were picked up by the other ferry, the Pulupaki, and brought to Ha’afeva and Pangai.
Everything we’d heard up to that point had been on the radio, which wasn’t horribly informative or precise. The news kept reporting that there were only 79 people aboard, including a 30 person crew, but everyone in Tonga knew that was not the case. Initially reports said that only 27 people were missing; now that number is up to 85 and will probably increase. Most of the surviving passengers who were brought to Pangai were not on the official ship’s manifest, since not everyone who rode bought tickets, and some who did bought them at the wharf, not the office, where no record of name is taken. Everyone has been in a frenzy these past few days trying to figure out who was actually on the boat and missing, and lots of families in this area are still waiting.
The worst part, by far, of all of this is that no children have been found yet, and they are not even sure how many children were on the boat, as children never require tickets. They’ve also only found one woman. Typically, the women and kids go down to the lower two decks and cabins to sleep (the ferries usually cross at night from Tonga) since it’s much warmer and more comfortable, and the men stay up on the decks smoking and talking, or sleep on the second level. When I rode the ferry back from Nuku’alofa I sat on the top deck to help with the seasickness, but it was terribly cold being completely exposed to the wind. Apparently, the ship sank very quickly, and the thinking is that the women and children were trapped below and were never able to get out of the boat.
I went down to the wharf on Thursday when the Pulupaki landed with the survivors, and I’ve never seen the wharf so crowded. Most of the island was there trying to figure out who was getting off the boat, crying, and gossiping. The entire hospital and police staffs came down and to take care of the survivors and take records of names. I was looking for a woman and a child for a volunteer and his friends in Vava’u- the feeling of helplessness as I went around to all the nurses trying to get answers was overwhelming, especially when we all realized no children had been on the rescue boat. A JYCA volunteer (the Japanese equivalent to Peace Corps) who worked for the shipping company was also on the ship as a crew member, and is still missing.
The Tongan government has asked New Zealand and Australia for air assistance to continue searching and divers to try and bring bodies up from the wreckage. The radio said they arrived at 11pm last night, and are presumably out there today, although the weather is terrible. The Royal New Zealand Airforce has also been here since Thursday and has taken over most of the operations.
There are a lot of things I’m upset and frustrated about from this, but the biggest cause is the lack of responsibility that allows the government to continue to get old used boats second hand while they wait for another country to give them a new one (the Princess Ashika was acquired from Fiji to replace the ‘Olovaha, the old boat that broke down every other week; they are waiting for a new boat that Japan has promised to donate initially for 2010, now in 2011). The radio new has also been terribly uninformative, throwing out worthy quotes such as the reason that there is only one woman survivor is because “women are weak and need to be taken care of.”
More than that, it’s just so sad. People here can’t afford the absurdly inflated flight prices, which leaves them with no option other than the ferries. Everyone here is just worried and upset- it’s going to be a rough week.
http://www.matangitonga.to/article/tonganews/outerislands/20090808_ashika_85missing.shtml
Everything we’d heard up to that point had been on the radio, which wasn’t horribly informative or precise. The news kept reporting that there were only 79 people aboard, including a 30 person crew, but everyone in Tonga knew that was not the case. Initially reports said that only 27 people were missing; now that number is up to 85 and will probably increase. Most of the surviving passengers who were brought to Pangai were not on the official ship’s manifest, since not everyone who rode bought tickets, and some who did bought them at the wharf, not the office, where no record of name is taken. Everyone has been in a frenzy these past few days trying to figure out who was actually on the boat and missing, and lots of families in this area are still waiting.
The worst part, by far, of all of this is that no children have been found yet, and they are not even sure how many children were on the boat, as children never require tickets. They’ve also only found one woman. Typically, the women and kids go down to the lower two decks and cabins to sleep (the ferries usually cross at night from Tonga) since it’s much warmer and more comfortable, and the men stay up on the decks smoking and talking, or sleep on the second level. When I rode the ferry back from Nuku’alofa I sat on the top deck to help with the seasickness, but it was terribly cold being completely exposed to the wind. Apparently, the ship sank very quickly, and the thinking is that the women and children were trapped below and were never able to get out of the boat.
I went down to the wharf on Thursday when the Pulupaki landed with the survivors, and I’ve never seen the wharf so crowded. Most of the island was there trying to figure out who was getting off the boat, crying, and gossiping. The entire hospital and police staffs came down and to take care of the survivors and take records of names. I was looking for a woman and a child for a volunteer and his friends in Vava’u- the feeling of helplessness as I went around to all the nurses trying to get answers was overwhelming, especially when we all realized no children had been on the rescue boat. A JYCA volunteer (the Japanese equivalent to Peace Corps) who worked for the shipping company was also on the ship as a crew member, and is still missing.
The Tongan government has asked New Zealand and Australia for air assistance to continue searching and divers to try and bring bodies up from the wreckage. The radio said they arrived at 11pm last night, and are presumably out there today, although the weather is terrible. The Royal New Zealand Airforce has also been here since Thursday and has taken over most of the operations.
There are a lot of things I’m upset and frustrated about from this, but the biggest cause is the lack of responsibility that allows the government to continue to get old used boats second hand while they wait for another country to give them a new one (the Princess Ashika was acquired from Fiji to replace the ‘Olovaha, the old boat that broke down every other week; they are waiting for a new boat that Japan has promised to donate initially for 2010, now in 2011). The radio new has also been terribly uninformative, throwing out worthy quotes such as the reason that there is only one woman survivor is because “women are weak and need to be taken care of.”
More than that, it’s just so sad. People here can’t afford the absurdly inflated flight prices, which leaves them with no option other than the ferries. Everyone here is just worried and upset- it’s going to be a rough week.
http://www.matangitonga.to/article/tonganews/outerislands/20090808_ashika_85missing.shtml
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tomasi Comes to Tonga
After one of the more eventful, harrowing, and frustrating series of flights in recent memory, Thomas finally arrived in Tonga on June 13th at 3:00am. (To make a long story short, his flight from Philadelphia to Los Angeles was delayed, Thom sat in someone else’s vomit, and he missed the international flight from LA to Tonga by less than 30 minutes. After lots of unnecessary struggling and bitchy airline employees he eventually got to New Zealand and from there was able to make his way to Tonga, although his luggage remained in LA for a few more days, just to make things fun- for a full and detailed report of this trip and reasons why you should fly Air New Zealand and purchase traveler’s insurance, please contact Mr. Gennaro.) Things immediately improved upon his arrival: the Tongan military marching band and prince and princess even greeted his plane on the tarmac as it landed. The official rumor was that they were there to escort several high ranking nobles, who required their own personal flight attendant in first class, delaying the plane for an hour in Auckland while the airline found additional personnel to work the flight, on their way back to Tonga for the former Prime Minister’s funeral, but we know better.
Although we didn’t get back to our guest house until 5am Thom’s first day in Tonga could not be spent in bed. Because his luggage was still MIA, he had been wearing the same clothes for more days than was advisable, and we were stuck in Tongatapu until Monday we ventured out pretty early and down to the Saturday market by the wharf to pick up the essentials. We met up with Marloucha, who has graciously let me crash at her house for much longer than she initially agreed to as the planes kept getting delayed, and set out to procure items of clothing for Thom and imported cereal for me (Frosted Mini Wheats!), which for some reason can only be found in the capital at this flea market. We bought some t-shirts and shorts fairly cheaply, but the item we most desperately needed was not to be found: men’s underwear. After scouring the market and me making a fool of myself asking all the vendors, mostly older women, for said item, Thom and I virtually sprinted to the one semi-“department store” in Tonga before it closed at noon (everything would be closed the following day as well- it’s illegal to open businesses on Sunday, with the exception of bakeries in the evening). The pickings were slim, but we finally found some workable garments. It wasn’t until we arrived back at the guest house that we realized there was a sticker on the package marking the underwear’s “imperfect fit”- in essence we bought damaged underwear, which I would highly recommend if you need a good laugh. We took full advantage of our time in Nuku’alofa to visit some pretty snazzy restaurants, eat a lot of good food, drink beer without fear of angry glares, and catch up away from the prying eyes of my village. It was pretty wonderful. And, as the US dollar is worth about two Tongan pa’anga we got to see a side of Tonga I hadn’t yet experienced on my Peace Corps budget.
We headed back to Ha’apai that Monday afternoon, burdened with as much produce as we could carry. Most of the first day was spent settling in and walking to town to carry the air mattress back from the office there as my ‘bed’ is possibly the most painful thing to sleep on in the entire country and I wanted to keep eyebrow raising and gossip to a minimum in my village by having ‘Tomasi’s bed’. Annoyingly, I had a PC workshop for the next two days and essentially ditched Thom (to be fair he was first invited and then uninvited to the workshop by some really stellar PC employees- but, that is indeed another story for another time) but he still managed to find his way around our small island quite nicely. My neighbors took wonderful care of his for those first few days: Lupe cooked incredible amounts of food and came to chat, and Fotu didn’t leave Thom’s side, making great efforts to teach him Tongan while simultaneously doing all the things I never let him do in my house. Thom also promptly picked up the Tongan custom of suto, hitchhiking, and somehow enlisted several of the boys at my school to show him around town and climb all over the boats docked at the wharf. Sadly, as this was the week before the two week school break and I had the workshop and a site visit, he never actually got to see school happen, but he still met some of the kids, and we got to play with them a bit.
For Thom’s first Sunday in Tonga Sefo, a wonderful man with no teeth (this becomes important later) who I often bake for, invited us to a kai pola, Tongan feast, at his church in Holopeka, the neighboring village. I helped Lupe do a bit of the cooking and then Thom experienced his first Church of Tonga service, decked out in full Tongan apparel: his very own tupeno, a formal wrap skirt, and a ta’ovala, giant woven mat, that Lupe and Le’o let us borrow. He looked quite dashing, and I hope some photos survived of us in the formal church wear. After church is was time to eat. The feast was held in the church hall, and we all sat on the ground around obscene amounts of food. Thom was very hungry (shocking, I know) and very adventurous, trying all sorts of foods from raw fish, to octopus, to root crop, and even managed to continue eating for longer than most Tongans…no easy feat. As the feast was wrapping up Thom finally decided he wanted to try the roast pig, but was too embarrassed to serve himself. As he was going back and forth on the matter I finally got fed up and dug into the pig myself, literally, with my hands, and pulled out a few chunks of puaka and put them on his plate. At this, all the men we were sitting across from burst out laughing, thrilled that I was serving my boyfriend and pleased at what a wonderful wife I would be…obviously I loved this attention. I helped clean up while Thom made valiant attempts to stand up and stretch his legs, and then we headed back home to enjoy a very Tongan Sunday of laying around digesting, baking, and going for an eva.
We had planned on going to ‘Uoleva, an uninhabited island just to the south of Lifuka, and staying at a resort for a romantic beach getaway on Monday, but as luck would have it Sunday evening brought some pretty intense storms, and we spent the day moping up my flooded house and bleaching the floors instead. Luckily, the weather cleared up, and we spent the next three days in chilly beach paradise. I’m not quite sure how to sum up ‘Serenity Beaches’, that’s the name of the resort we stayed at, except to say that it was wonderful. It’s owned by Patti, an amazing if spacey woman, and she built this place with help from her boyfriend Semi. They are some of the kindest people, and we had a great stay there. We had our own little fale, and even though it was quite cold at night and there’s no electricity, it was perfect- Patti has stocked endless candles in all the fales and the main areas, and the result is very picturesque. We met a great British couple there, and as the resort doesn’t have their liquor license yet and can’t sell beer Semi made all dinners more entertaining by keeping drinks in constant supply to share. Most of our time was spent sleeping in, lounging and reading on the beach and walking, although we did have a very memorable kayak foray, and of course Thom had to spend a few hours one afternoon running around the entire island; I preferred to eat cookies and finish my book. It was quite nice and a bit necessary to get away from my village and Tongans for a while and just be able to be ourselves without have to check constantly to make sure we were the requisite 5 feet apart when out in public. Needless to say, we really didn’t want to leave.
The rest of our time in Ha’apai was spent basically hanging out. Thom got to meet the other volunteers here with me, and we all went out one night for Kate’s birthday. We walked around my village, worked in the garden, played catch with a disc (although Thom was invited to play rugby one afternoon while we were throwing and left me for a bunch of Tongan men), and chatted with my neighbors. During on of the more memorable talks about education in Tonga we were all sitting outside in the school yard, when Le’o abruptly asked Thom if he was hungry. Obviously, Thom enthusiastically told him that he was indeed hungry, despite my warning glances, and then Le’o turned to me to let me know that I should probably leave the discussion and go prepare Thom’s food…oh traditional gender roles! We also took a few bike trips up to Foa, the island to the north of Lifuka connected by a landbridge, and to the beach and resort at the furthest tip of the island. Partially because it’s tourist season and there are other palangis and partially because it’s winter and no Tongan is silly enough to want to go swimming now, we were able to wear bathing suits and generally act Western in Foa, which was very nice. I even went in the water twice to appease Mr. Gennaro who made countless references to my lack of strength and climate wimpiness.
On Thom’s last day in Koulo, my neighbors prepared a farewell feast, which we ate at their house with their family and some friends, including Sefo. Sefo even went out the night before to try and catch some fish for this lunch, although sadly nothing big was biting and we ate quite a few baby fish. This was endlessly amusing to many members of the crowd, especially Le’o who kept cracking jokes such as “their mothers are sad now because they can’t find their babies.” Sefo was also berated for not being able to eat the fish because he has no teeth and for having to eat soft food like a baby. This was all very witty and funny, especially to Sefo, who laughed the loudest each time. Lupe made some amazing ‘ota ‘ika and Le’o even killed one of his chickens for us to eat. It was such a kind and lovely gesture, and it meant a lot that the family I’m closest to really enjoyed having Thom here and were so supportive. Le’o especially really liked having another man next door, and stopped by a lot while Thom was here just to chat, something he never does with me, and kept inviting him to go play rugby. The whole family has invited Thom back next year, something we’re both really hoping will be able to happen, and all of our time in Koulo and Lifuka was lovely. That was definitely the happiest I’ve been since I arrived in Tonga.
From Ha’apai we made a quick pit stop in Tongatapu and the next morning caught the ferry out to the island of ‘Eua. While Ha’apai is full of flat sandy beaches, ‘Eua is the complete opposite and is covered in huge hills and dense forests and rainforests. There are even rivers through the island and waterfalls, not that we managed to find those. We stayed at an adorable guest house on the edge of the national park where we met lots of interesting travelers, and despite an abrupt change in our marital status courtesy of a concerned ‘Eua PC volunteer we had a great time. To be fair, I’d never been to ‘Eua before, and thus we spent a better part of our two and a half days there lost, primarily in the forest. But, the people were lovely and wonderfully friendly and the woods were gorgeous. We didn’t really find any of the “sights” since there are not really any trails through the forest and even fewer signs, but I think it’s safe to say that we had a very nice time nonetheless, despite Thom’s random bursts of patriotism and his American flag bandana on the 4th of July.
Sadly, we had to go back to Tongatapu Monday morning, which meant catching the ferry at 4:00am- why the hell it has to leave that early no one knows. For our last full day in Tonga we gift shopped at the market and a few stores, and were joined by the lovely Melanie for our final dinner in town.
It was so wonderful having Thom here, and I hope he enjoyed seeing where I live and a bit of what I’m doing over here. Granted, it was quite difficult to say goodbye again, and I’m still readjusting, but it was the best month ever. You are all highly encouraged to follow Mr. Gennaro’s example and come for your own Tongan holiday- I would love more visitors at any time.
Although we didn’t get back to our guest house until 5am Thom’s first day in Tonga could not be spent in bed. Because his luggage was still MIA, he had been wearing the same clothes for more days than was advisable, and we were stuck in Tongatapu until Monday we ventured out pretty early and down to the Saturday market by the wharf to pick up the essentials. We met up with Marloucha, who has graciously let me crash at her house for much longer than she initially agreed to as the planes kept getting delayed, and set out to procure items of clothing for Thom and imported cereal for me (Frosted Mini Wheats!), which for some reason can only be found in the capital at this flea market. We bought some t-shirts and shorts fairly cheaply, but the item we most desperately needed was not to be found: men’s underwear. After scouring the market and me making a fool of myself asking all the vendors, mostly older women, for said item, Thom and I virtually sprinted to the one semi-“department store” in Tonga before it closed at noon (everything would be closed the following day as well- it’s illegal to open businesses on Sunday, with the exception of bakeries in the evening). The pickings were slim, but we finally found some workable garments. It wasn’t until we arrived back at the guest house that we realized there was a sticker on the package marking the underwear’s “imperfect fit”- in essence we bought damaged underwear, which I would highly recommend if you need a good laugh. We took full advantage of our time in Nuku’alofa to visit some pretty snazzy restaurants, eat a lot of good food, drink beer without fear of angry glares, and catch up away from the prying eyes of my village. It was pretty wonderful. And, as the US dollar is worth about two Tongan pa’anga we got to see a side of Tonga I hadn’t yet experienced on my Peace Corps budget.
We headed back to Ha’apai that Monday afternoon, burdened with as much produce as we could carry. Most of the first day was spent settling in and walking to town to carry the air mattress back from the office there as my ‘bed’ is possibly the most painful thing to sleep on in the entire country and I wanted to keep eyebrow raising and gossip to a minimum in my village by having ‘Tomasi’s bed’. Annoyingly, I had a PC workshop for the next two days and essentially ditched Thom (to be fair he was first invited and then uninvited to the workshop by some really stellar PC employees- but, that is indeed another story for another time) but he still managed to find his way around our small island quite nicely. My neighbors took wonderful care of his for those first few days: Lupe cooked incredible amounts of food and came to chat, and Fotu didn’t leave Thom’s side, making great efforts to teach him Tongan while simultaneously doing all the things I never let him do in my house. Thom also promptly picked up the Tongan custom of suto, hitchhiking, and somehow enlisted several of the boys at my school to show him around town and climb all over the boats docked at the wharf. Sadly, as this was the week before the two week school break and I had the workshop and a site visit, he never actually got to see school happen, but he still met some of the kids, and we got to play with them a bit.
For Thom’s first Sunday in Tonga Sefo, a wonderful man with no teeth (this becomes important later) who I often bake for, invited us to a kai pola, Tongan feast, at his church in Holopeka, the neighboring village. I helped Lupe do a bit of the cooking and then Thom experienced his first Church of Tonga service, decked out in full Tongan apparel: his very own tupeno, a formal wrap skirt, and a ta’ovala, giant woven mat, that Lupe and Le’o let us borrow. He looked quite dashing, and I hope some photos survived of us in the formal church wear. After church is was time to eat. The feast was held in the church hall, and we all sat on the ground around obscene amounts of food. Thom was very hungry (shocking, I know) and very adventurous, trying all sorts of foods from raw fish, to octopus, to root crop, and even managed to continue eating for longer than most Tongans…no easy feat. As the feast was wrapping up Thom finally decided he wanted to try the roast pig, but was too embarrassed to serve himself. As he was going back and forth on the matter I finally got fed up and dug into the pig myself, literally, with my hands, and pulled out a few chunks of puaka and put them on his plate. At this, all the men we were sitting across from burst out laughing, thrilled that I was serving my boyfriend and pleased at what a wonderful wife I would be…obviously I loved this attention. I helped clean up while Thom made valiant attempts to stand up and stretch his legs, and then we headed back home to enjoy a very Tongan Sunday of laying around digesting, baking, and going for an eva.
We had planned on going to ‘Uoleva, an uninhabited island just to the south of Lifuka, and staying at a resort for a romantic beach getaway on Monday, but as luck would have it Sunday evening brought some pretty intense storms, and we spent the day moping up my flooded house and bleaching the floors instead. Luckily, the weather cleared up, and we spent the next three days in chilly beach paradise. I’m not quite sure how to sum up ‘Serenity Beaches’, that’s the name of the resort we stayed at, except to say that it was wonderful. It’s owned by Patti, an amazing if spacey woman, and she built this place with help from her boyfriend Semi. They are some of the kindest people, and we had a great stay there. We had our own little fale, and even though it was quite cold at night and there’s no electricity, it was perfect- Patti has stocked endless candles in all the fales and the main areas, and the result is very picturesque. We met a great British couple there, and as the resort doesn’t have their liquor license yet and can’t sell beer Semi made all dinners more entertaining by keeping drinks in constant supply to share. Most of our time was spent sleeping in, lounging and reading on the beach and walking, although we did have a very memorable kayak foray, and of course Thom had to spend a few hours one afternoon running around the entire island; I preferred to eat cookies and finish my book. It was quite nice and a bit necessary to get away from my village and Tongans for a while and just be able to be ourselves without have to check constantly to make sure we were the requisite 5 feet apart when out in public. Needless to say, we really didn’t want to leave.
The rest of our time in Ha’apai was spent basically hanging out. Thom got to meet the other volunteers here with me, and we all went out one night for Kate’s birthday. We walked around my village, worked in the garden, played catch with a disc (although Thom was invited to play rugby one afternoon while we were throwing and left me for a bunch of Tongan men), and chatted with my neighbors. During on of the more memorable talks about education in Tonga we were all sitting outside in the school yard, when Le’o abruptly asked Thom if he was hungry. Obviously, Thom enthusiastically told him that he was indeed hungry, despite my warning glances, and then Le’o turned to me to let me know that I should probably leave the discussion and go prepare Thom’s food…oh traditional gender roles! We also took a few bike trips up to Foa, the island to the north of Lifuka connected by a landbridge, and to the beach and resort at the furthest tip of the island. Partially because it’s tourist season and there are other palangis and partially because it’s winter and no Tongan is silly enough to want to go swimming now, we were able to wear bathing suits and generally act Western in Foa, which was very nice. I even went in the water twice to appease Mr. Gennaro who made countless references to my lack of strength and climate wimpiness.
On Thom’s last day in Koulo, my neighbors prepared a farewell feast, which we ate at their house with their family and some friends, including Sefo. Sefo even went out the night before to try and catch some fish for this lunch, although sadly nothing big was biting and we ate quite a few baby fish. This was endlessly amusing to many members of the crowd, especially Le’o who kept cracking jokes such as “their mothers are sad now because they can’t find their babies.” Sefo was also berated for not being able to eat the fish because he has no teeth and for having to eat soft food like a baby. This was all very witty and funny, especially to Sefo, who laughed the loudest each time. Lupe made some amazing ‘ota ‘ika and Le’o even killed one of his chickens for us to eat. It was such a kind and lovely gesture, and it meant a lot that the family I’m closest to really enjoyed having Thom here and were so supportive. Le’o especially really liked having another man next door, and stopped by a lot while Thom was here just to chat, something he never does with me, and kept inviting him to go play rugby. The whole family has invited Thom back next year, something we’re both really hoping will be able to happen, and all of our time in Koulo and Lifuka was lovely. That was definitely the happiest I’ve been since I arrived in Tonga.
From Ha’apai we made a quick pit stop in Tongatapu and the next morning caught the ferry out to the island of ‘Eua. While Ha’apai is full of flat sandy beaches, ‘Eua is the complete opposite and is covered in huge hills and dense forests and rainforests. There are even rivers through the island and waterfalls, not that we managed to find those. We stayed at an adorable guest house on the edge of the national park where we met lots of interesting travelers, and despite an abrupt change in our marital status courtesy of a concerned ‘Eua PC volunteer we had a great time. To be fair, I’d never been to ‘Eua before, and thus we spent a better part of our two and a half days there lost, primarily in the forest. But, the people were lovely and wonderfully friendly and the woods were gorgeous. We didn’t really find any of the “sights” since there are not really any trails through the forest and even fewer signs, but I think it’s safe to say that we had a very nice time nonetheless, despite Thom’s random bursts of patriotism and his American flag bandana on the 4th of July.
Sadly, we had to go back to Tongatapu Monday morning, which meant catching the ferry at 4:00am- why the hell it has to leave that early no one knows. For our last full day in Tonga we gift shopped at the market and a few stores, and were joined by the lovely Melanie for our final dinner in town.
It was so wonderful having Thom here, and I hope he enjoyed seeing where I live and a bit of what I’m doing over here. Granted, it was quite difficult to say goodbye again, and I’m still readjusting, but it was the best month ever. You are all highly encouraged to follow Mr. Gennaro’s example and come for your own Tongan holiday- I would love more visitors at any time.
Interlude
Hi all. So, the blog’s been on a bit of a hiatus as of late, but I am going to do my best to bring it up to speed as succinctly and painlessly as possible. It’s been a pretty eventful couple of months, not necessarily work-wise (school’s been on a month-long plus break but we’re finally getting back into the swing of things), and there’s a lot to tell.
Also, for those of you who may be in the greater US this December, I am coming home for Christmas. I’ll be back from the 23rd of December until the 6th of January, most likely hiding out in various parts of Massachusetts and possibly New York going through severe culture shock, avoiding crowds, eating copious amounts, and taking as many hot showers and baths as possible, so if you are at all in the area, I would love to catch up. Sadly, my time home will be limited due to a fairly restricted number of vacation days afforded to PC volunteers, but any and all of you are welcome and encouraged to come visit the Kingdom at any time!
I’ve been missing you all, my family and friends, very much these past few weeks, and I am looking forward to seeing you all again more than I can express. To all of you who have sent emails and letters and packages I can’t thank you enough. It’s been quite a rollercoaster here.
‘Ofa ‘atu!
Also, for those of you who may be in the greater US this December, I am coming home for Christmas. I’ll be back from the 23rd of December until the 6th of January, most likely hiding out in various parts of Massachusetts and possibly New York going through severe culture shock, avoiding crowds, eating copious amounts, and taking as many hot showers and baths as possible, so if you are at all in the area, I would love to catch up. Sadly, my time home will be limited due to a fairly restricted number of vacation days afforded to PC volunteers, but any and all of you are welcome and encouraged to come visit the Kingdom at any time!
I’ve been missing you all, my family and friends, very much these past few weeks, and I am looking forward to seeing you all again more than I can express. To all of you who have sent emails and letters and packages I can’t thank you enough. It’s been quite a rollercoaster here.
‘Ofa ‘atu!
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