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.

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!

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.