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.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
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.
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