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
Saturday, August 8, 2009
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!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Nutrition Class Faka-Tonga
I awoke yesterday morning to the sound of my name being repeatedly called from outside my window, “Alisi! Alisi! Alisi! Alisi!” My neighbor was standing outside and he wanted to get the vegetable seeds from inside my house to soak in water before we planted them this afternoon. I gave him the seeds, and he informed me that in school in the morning we were going to have a nutrition class about eating plants, and invited me to attend. Now, in conjunction with the garden we’re planting I’m working to create lessons/presentations about healthy eating and tie that into environmental issues. So, I was a bit upset that no one had told me about this before, or asked if I wanted to help. Nevertheless, I told him I would love to come, and brought along a notebook and pencil to take notes. This proved to be both foolish and an indication of the fact that I am still not totally immersed into local culture.
However, as it was Friday, we first had our weekly teacher’s meeting and Ministry of Education radio broadcast first. Apparently there is an influx of pirated DVDs of “Prison Break” and “24” in circulation at the moment, and we spent a good hour and a half discussing these captivating shows in surprising detail. Sadly, as I have seen neither, I wasn’t able to contribute a whole lot to the discussion, but I did put in a plug for “Heroes” (yes, I just finished season 1, and while I didn’t really like it at first, I am hooked now) and “Lost” (I got season 4 and part of 5 from Kate and Brett this week…this only spells trouble and a loss of productivity- all of my London girls can clearly vouch for this).
As our “meeting” was winding down I noticed a large number of mothers driving into the school yard and unloading truck-loads of food. They all came and sat outside the classroom with what amounted to a huge feast. This, of course, should have been another clear indication that a Tongan nutrition and plant-eating class may not be precisely what I had in mind. Still, I was completely taken by surprise when all the kids from classes 5 and 6, along with their siblings in other classes (so, practically the whole school) came into the classroom and sat on the floor around large lengths of table cloths that stretched across the entire room.
One of our teachers then walked up to the front of the room to begin the lesson. First, the children named every different type of food that was on their plate. Then, the teacher stated that eating food was good for you, and eating food from plants was also good. After that, she explained that black people and Chinese people were usually very skinny because they don’t have enough food. Also, they eat a lot of vegetables. But, the Tongan people are sino lelei (sino means both “fat” and body”, lelei means good; thus sino lelei is a good body because one is fat) because they have plenty of food and they eat meakai fakaTonga (Tongan food). Then she named some Tongan food that she particularly liked, mostly various root crops. Finally, our principal came to the front, blessed the food and said a prayer, and then everyone commenced literally stuffing their faces. And that was it. That was the school’s nutrition class, and it lasted maybe five minutes.
Of course the mothers jumped into a frenzy because I wasn’t eating and began snatching food away from their children and piling it in front of me, but, as soon as I was able to pick my jaw up off the floor, I jumped down and sat with the kids to eat. And eat we did; these kids meant business. Many of them started unbuckling their pants and untying their dresses. One kid even ate so much he threw up. Looking around at the array of fried foods, fatty, processed meat, and simple carbohydrates, I tried to spot some vegetables, as this was also ‘eat plants time’. The closest thing I found was pele (a leafy green that tastes like kale) mixed with kapa pulu (canned grade-D corned beef) and smothered in coconut cream.
Once I got over the initial shock and twinge of anger, I had to admit it was pretty funny, and periodically burst into laughter which the Tongans loved, even if they didn’t understand what I found so amusing. And yes, I am definitely rethinking how to conduct my nutrition classes, if I am able to do them in the future.
However, as it was Friday, we first had our weekly teacher’s meeting and Ministry of Education radio broadcast first. Apparently there is an influx of pirated DVDs of “Prison Break” and “24” in circulation at the moment, and we spent a good hour and a half discussing these captivating shows in surprising detail. Sadly, as I have seen neither, I wasn’t able to contribute a whole lot to the discussion, but I did put in a plug for “Heroes” (yes, I just finished season 1, and while I didn’t really like it at first, I am hooked now) and “Lost” (I got season 4 and part of 5 from Kate and Brett this week…this only spells trouble and a loss of productivity- all of my London girls can clearly vouch for this).
As our “meeting” was winding down I noticed a large number of mothers driving into the school yard and unloading truck-loads of food. They all came and sat outside the classroom with what amounted to a huge feast. This, of course, should have been another clear indication that a Tongan nutrition and plant-eating class may not be precisely what I had in mind. Still, I was completely taken by surprise when all the kids from classes 5 and 6, along with their siblings in other classes (so, practically the whole school) came into the classroom and sat on the floor around large lengths of table cloths that stretched across the entire room.
One of our teachers then walked up to the front of the room to begin the lesson. First, the children named every different type of food that was on their plate. Then, the teacher stated that eating food was good for you, and eating food from plants was also good. After that, she explained that black people and Chinese people were usually very skinny because they don’t have enough food. Also, they eat a lot of vegetables. But, the Tongan people are sino lelei (sino means both “fat” and body”, lelei means good; thus sino lelei is a good body because one is fat) because they have plenty of food and they eat meakai fakaTonga (Tongan food). Then she named some Tongan food that she particularly liked, mostly various root crops. Finally, our principal came to the front, blessed the food and said a prayer, and then everyone commenced literally stuffing their faces. And that was it. That was the school’s nutrition class, and it lasted maybe five minutes.
Of course the mothers jumped into a frenzy because I wasn’t eating and began snatching food away from their children and piling it in front of me, but, as soon as I was able to pick my jaw up off the floor, I jumped down and sat with the kids to eat. And eat we did; these kids meant business. Many of them started unbuckling their pants and untying their dresses. One kid even ate so much he threw up. Looking around at the array of fried foods, fatty, processed meat, and simple carbohydrates, I tried to spot some vegetables, as this was also ‘eat plants time’. The closest thing I found was pele (a leafy green that tastes like kale) mixed with kapa pulu (canned grade-D corned beef) and smothered in coconut cream.
Once I got over the initial shock and twinge of anger, I had to admit it was pretty funny, and periodically burst into laughter which the Tongans loved, even if they didn’t understand what I found so amusing. And yes, I am definitely rethinking how to conduct my nutrition classes, if I am able to do them in the future.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Children’s Sunday
Sundays in May are a big deal, and for the entire month, a specific Sunday is dedicated to honoring a section of the family. First there is Children’s Sunday, followed my Mother’s Sunday, and then Father’s Sunday. And, as I am neither a mother nor a father, it was decided that I should participate in Children’s Sunday. I was told that the children would recite biblical lessons, read hymns, do action songs, reenact biblical stories, and sing songs. All the children from pre-school through high school would be participating.
The week leading up to Children’s Sunday there were rehearsals every night, and I would stop by for a bit to watch. Usually though, after two hours or so, I inevitably got bored and would wander home. I also noticed a huge influx in the number of women weaving, and, as the week progressed, many groups of them would stay up all night weaving, as I finally figured out, new ta’ovalas and kiekias for their children and sewing new clothes.
The Thursday before the big day one of my neighbors who works at the airport came up to me and told me I would be reading a hymn on Children’s Sunday. What he failed to mention, but I astutely discovered at the dress rehearsal that evening, was that I would be doing my reading with his 5-year old son, who is in class 1 at my school. And, since the program starts with the youngest children and works its way up, who do you think started off the service? Oh yes, yours truly. And, all the kids had been practicing for months, and all of them, even the 4 and 5-year olds, had their verses and hymns memorized. I, as you may guess, very much did not, and with only two days until Sunday I just accepted the fact that I wouldn’t and was resigned to my fate as the only child reading from a hymn book.
On the Sunday itself there was the normal morning church service, followed by a huge feast in honor of the children, for which I made some pretty delicious custard cake parfaits, if I do say so myself. Phil, Kate, and Brett joined me for church in the morning and for the feast that followed, which made it all a lot more fun, even though there was a pig’s butt literally inches away from my face the entire feast. All of the children were dressed in white for church, and it was amazing how quickly a room of children dressed in white at a feast get collectively filthy.
After the feast, everyone ran home to change, and an hour later we were back at the church ready to start the program. Lupe, my neighbor, and Vasiti, the mother of a girl in class 1, decked me out in true Tongan fashion with a woven shirt, three ta’ovalas as my skirt, and a giant necklace of woven palm leaves. Once we got to the church Sā, my five-year old buddy, and I did our recitation/reading to start off the services, and all went smoothly until Muimui, my dog, saw me up on the alter and decided that’s where he should be too. Now, dogs in church are definitely frowned upon, but dogs on the scared alter- giant faux pas. Lupe ran up and grabbed him, and I finished my reading to wild approval and tears from the older ladies in the village (they loved me) and laughs from my students at my mispronunciations and the fact that I was reading with a class 1 student (obviously, they were less impressed).
I shuffled back to a pew- it’s really quite difficult to walk in giant woven mats- and was trying to find a way to sit without sliding off the bench when Muimui came bounding back in. This time, he saw Fotu, my neighbor’s four-year old son, reciting his lesson. Lupe and I brought him outside and tied him to the outside of the church, but after about a half hour he was whining so loudly you could hear him over the singing (Tongans sing incredibly loudly, so this was actually quite impressive) so we untied him, and he spent the rest of the service sleeping under my pew.
Three and a half hours later we finally wrapped up Children’s Sunday. Everyone did very well, although the older kids’ lessons took twice as long because each one of them would start to cry and have to stop until some small child ran up with a handkerchief from someone. It’s a Tongan thing to get very into your speeches and bible lessons and cry. I was very happy to get home, take off the woven clothing (which is very beautiful but a bit lacking in terms of comfort and ventilation) and relax.
The week leading up to Children’s Sunday there were rehearsals every night, and I would stop by for a bit to watch. Usually though, after two hours or so, I inevitably got bored and would wander home. I also noticed a huge influx in the number of women weaving, and, as the week progressed, many groups of them would stay up all night weaving, as I finally figured out, new ta’ovalas and kiekias for their children and sewing new clothes.
The Thursday before the big day one of my neighbors who works at the airport came up to me and told me I would be reading a hymn on Children’s Sunday. What he failed to mention, but I astutely discovered at the dress rehearsal that evening, was that I would be doing my reading with his 5-year old son, who is in class 1 at my school. And, since the program starts with the youngest children and works its way up, who do you think started off the service? Oh yes, yours truly. And, all the kids had been practicing for months, and all of them, even the 4 and 5-year olds, had their verses and hymns memorized. I, as you may guess, very much did not, and with only two days until Sunday I just accepted the fact that I wouldn’t and was resigned to my fate as the only child reading from a hymn book.
On the Sunday itself there was the normal morning church service, followed by a huge feast in honor of the children, for which I made some pretty delicious custard cake parfaits, if I do say so myself. Phil, Kate, and Brett joined me for church in the morning and for the feast that followed, which made it all a lot more fun, even though there was a pig’s butt literally inches away from my face the entire feast. All of the children were dressed in white for church, and it was amazing how quickly a room of children dressed in white at a feast get collectively filthy.
After the feast, everyone ran home to change, and an hour later we were back at the church ready to start the program. Lupe, my neighbor, and Vasiti, the mother of a girl in class 1, decked me out in true Tongan fashion with a woven shirt, three ta’ovalas as my skirt, and a giant necklace of woven palm leaves. Once we got to the church Sā, my five-year old buddy, and I did our recitation/reading to start off the services, and all went smoothly until Muimui, my dog, saw me up on the alter and decided that’s where he should be too. Now, dogs in church are definitely frowned upon, but dogs on the scared alter- giant faux pas. Lupe ran up and grabbed him, and I finished my reading to wild approval and tears from the older ladies in the village (they loved me) and laughs from my students at my mispronunciations and the fact that I was reading with a class 1 student (obviously, they were less impressed).
I shuffled back to a pew- it’s really quite difficult to walk in giant woven mats- and was trying to find a way to sit without sliding off the bench when Muimui came bounding back in. This time, he saw Fotu, my neighbor’s four-year old son, reciting his lesson. Lupe and I brought him outside and tied him to the outside of the church, but after about a half hour he was whining so loudly you could hear him over the singing (Tongans sing incredibly loudly, so this was actually quite impressive) so we untied him, and he spent the rest of the service sleeping under my pew.
Three and a half hours later we finally wrapped up Children’s Sunday. Everyone did very well, although the older kids’ lessons took twice as long because each one of them would start to cry and have to stop until some small child ran up with a handkerchief from someone. It’s a Tongan thing to get very into your speeches and bible lessons and cry. I was very happy to get home, take off the woven clothing (which is very beautiful but a bit lacking in terms of comfort and ventilation) and relax.
Friday, May 1, 2009
My Triumphant Return from the Land Down Under
Well, I’m back in Tonga, land of the boiled ‘ufi and kapa pulu. Australia, which may henceforth be know as land of the dead kangaroos on the side of the road and large expanses of straight and open roads, was absolutely amazing and wonderful. I flew into Melbourne, which is pronounced without the "r”, from Sydney and had a wonderful reunion with Eric at the baggage claim (read: I almost tackled him and made a big scene), and within minutes we were driving through a city, on a highway, and I was freaking out a little bit. Reintroduction to city life and culture was and will continue to be a bit of a challenge.
Eric had recently purchased a functioning little car, and we drove to our hostel in the St. Kilda neighborhood of the city, which was nice and cozy yet strangely populated with a large number of permanent and semi-permanent Australians who all knew one another and spent every evening have parties in the common room. All in all, it was a bit awkward at times, especially given the state of mine and Eric’s social skills compounded with the fact that I’ve been living in Tonga and he had been driving around the Outback alone…winning combination right there. But, there were hot water showers (!!!), mechanical laundry facilities, and a kitchen, which more than canceled out our own social clumsiness.
Melbourne was an adorable city, and I really enjoyed our time there. As you might imagine a fair amount of our itinerary revolved around finding and consuming food: culinary highlights from Melbourne include an all vegetarian restaurant that Eric willing went to without smuggling bacon in, the Queen Victoria market (every kind of fruit, vegetable, herb, cheese, and olive available), an epic search for bagels in the Jewish neighborhood which ended in vain because the city was practically shut down on Good Friday (government holiday there, who knew?), the awesome burgers and veggie burgers we found after failing to find bagels, real bakeries and lots of bread, sidewalk cafes on almost every street, a neighborhood of cake shops, lots of sushi, an awesome bar in the upstairs of a shop in a tiny little alley, and a six-pack of Sam Adams that we located in a specialty beer shop.
Aside from food, we did a lot of walking and exploring the various neighborhoods of the city, all of which would aptly be described as cute, riding the snazzy public transportation trams, and generally seeing the sights, including a great art museum with lots of older and modern Aboriginal art. Melbourne was by no means a large city, and it had an incredibly cozy feel to it, along with the most variety of neighborhoods and ethnic centers of all the cities in Australia. We also took a day and drove part of the Great Ocean Highway, along the coast of Australia. It was indescribably beautiful and there were plenty of overlooks and small paths down to cliffs overlooking the ocean. And, definite highlight of the trip, we saw several koala bears, just chilling in their trees! There were just as adorable as I had hoped they would be and all looked like grumpy old men. We unanimously decided that if Eric were to be reborn in animal form, he would most definitely be a koala.
We stayed for 5 days in Melbourne, and then it was time to hit the open road. We drove for two days through the ‘bush’ and then through the outback, sleeping in Eric’s tiny car, a feat of no small achievement, and cooking on a small propane burner at rest stops. And, I was more than successful in convincing and demonstrating to Mr. Ashcroft that living and eating out of one’s car does not mean one must subsist solely on pb&j sandwiches. In addition, during our time on the road, we saw many cows, ridiculous road signs warning about the cows on the road, even more ridiculous and rhyming road signs warning against driving while tires (favorites include: Fatigue is Fatal; Take a Break, Stay Awake for Safety’s Sake; and Survive This Drive), road trains (giant trucks pulling at least 5 trailers while driving on the wrong side of the road on tiny little two lane roads- terrifying), and dead kangaroos. Now, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I have a small bone to pick with Australia: I came more excited to see kangaroos than anything else. There are hundreds of thousands of kangaroos all over the continent in many colors, shapes, and sized. But, despite the fact that Eric has seen more than he can remember, from the second I get to your country the only kangaroos I see are road-kill. Why? Also worth mentioning are the flies. Insane numbers of flies live off of who knows what in this wilderness, and instantly swarm anything that is moving slower than a car. Thankfully they disappeared at night because it was so cold (I bought a giant pair of sweatpants, socks, and a sweater in Melbourne- the tropics have made me weak!).
Finally, after countless outback towns consisting of a gas station and a motel and opal mines, we reached Uluru. After pitching our cozy little tent at a very overpriced campground in a small town built and inhabited totally by tourists (admittedly, it was a little strange) we drove out to Uluru, formally, and less politically correctly, known as Ayers Rock, to watch the sunset. While it was a bit overcast and slightly anticlimactic, we did hear an amazing country song fittingly entitled “There’s a Rainbow Over the Rock” chesseily (yes, I’m trying to make that an adverb) blasting from one of the many 4WDs that Australian families had rented for their outback vacation. Classic. Aside from being constantly terrified of the numerous things that can kill you in the outback, I really enjoyed our time here.
For the next couple days we perfect the art of rapidly making morning beverages and oatmeal for breakfast before the flies could descend, and spent the rest of the next two days hiking around Uluru and Kata Tjuta, which are both part of the same national park and a World Heritage Site. First, Eric and I did the base walk around Uluru, which was pretty amazing, despite being covered in flies for the majority of the time. Eric even bought a hat with pictures of flies on it in some effort to trick them, but alas, it was to no avail. Although I did enjoy making fun of him for wearing the hat. Uluru itself is immense, and there are caves, overhangs, and Aboriginal carvings around a large portion of the rock. Most of Uluru are sacred Aboriginal sites for either the men or the women, and as non-Aboriginals we aren’t privy to the information or details of why or where each of these exist. There was some more information about the importance of Uluru to the Aboriginals and some basic versions of important myths and tales that occurred there in a very well run visitor’s center that we visited a few times, and all of it was really interesting. There was also information about how the National Park Service and the original Aboriginal landowners have recently formed a governing board to jointly manage the land and parks services. Once last note on this is how impressive it is that a civilization could flourish in the middle of a desert, and some of the survival techniques and sources of food and water are just amazing. We also went on a short guided walk with a park ranger the following morning to a small water hole (but, it being the middle of the desert, the water level was pretty low) and aside from one ridiculous woman (there’s always one) it was really great. Also, Eric got the first of many chance to demonstrate his impressive knowledge of rocks and geography to himself and me, which is always fun.
We also hiked Kata Tjuta, somehow anglicized to “The Olgas”, which, frankly, I loved, even more than Uluru. It was about 45 kilometers away from Uluru, and the loop trail lead down into a lush valley surrounded by twelve giant rock formations. The views were stunning, and there’s no way I can describe how lovely it was with any justice. Sufficed to say, this was my favorite part of the entire trip.
We came out to Uluru with the set intention to climb it. It’s a pretty difficult climb, especially in the heat and sun, and we wanted to make sure we started early enough in the day to climb the tough ascent before the sun really kicked it and that we had plenty of water, food, and proper attire. The first day we set out to climb, the trail was closed due to high wind. Same thing happened the second day. On the third day, our last shot at climbing, what do you think happened? That’s right, it rained. In the desert. In a place where it rains a few times each year. And it wasn’t even enough rain to create awesome waterfalls and such off the rock. Just a small steady sprinkle. Needless to say, we were, and probably still are, highly disappointed.
I suppose the plus side is that we ended up leaving a day early and thus were able to make it to Adelaide with a fair portion of a day left to see a bit of the city. The most notable event from our two-day drive to Adelaide was our flat tire in the middle of nowhere (thankfully we had a spare in the trunk), and our eventful hour at a rest-stop town in which I proved to be quite gifted at playing the damsel in distress who doesn’t know anything about cars. Seriously, I need to learn how to change a tire. In Adelaide Eric and I were somehow delegated out of the main hostel and into what amounted to the couples dorm across the street, which was actually very nice and comfy, and meant we didn’t have to deal with or talk to that many hostel people. We wandered a bit, and after several thwarted attempts to eat fun vegetarian food on a Sunday night in a town where everything is closed, we were successful in locating a Chinese restaurant (hooray for the Chinese and their long business hours) and had a very pleasant last meal together accompanied by an extremely intoxicated group of young professionals.
Sadly, I had to leave early the next morning, and after a tearful goodbye and a delayed flight I made it to Sydney where I had an eight-hour layover before my flight to Tonga. I figured out the train system, which is wonderfully run but horribly expensive, and went down to Circular Quay to see the bridge and the Opera House, snap a few photos, wander around, and grab lunch. Then, it was back to the airport and the Kingdom of Tonga.
The trip was a wonderful break, and the company was indescribably needed. I loved Australia, and only wish I had had more time there. Now, it’s back to work and real life, although the tim-tams I brought back will make it a bit sweeter (excuse the pun, I really couldn’t help myself [I know Thom, even after that NY Times op. ed. piece]) for at least a week.
Eric had recently purchased a functioning little car, and we drove to our hostel in the St. Kilda neighborhood of the city, which was nice and cozy yet strangely populated with a large number of permanent and semi-permanent Australians who all knew one another and spent every evening have parties in the common room. All in all, it was a bit awkward at times, especially given the state of mine and Eric’s social skills compounded with the fact that I’ve been living in Tonga and he had been driving around the Outback alone…winning combination right there. But, there were hot water showers (!!!), mechanical laundry facilities, and a kitchen, which more than canceled out our own social clumsiness.
Melbourne was an adorable city, and I really enjoyed our time there. As you might imagine a fair amount of our itinerary revolved around finding and consuming food: culinary highlights from Melbourne include an all vegetarian restaurant that Eric willing went to without smuggling bacon in, the Queen Victoria market (every kind of fruit, vegetable, herb, cheese, and olive available), an epic search for bagels in the Jewish neighborhood which ended in vain because the city was practically shut down on Good Friday (government holiday there, who knew?), the awesome burgers and veggie burgers we found after failing to find bagels, real bakeries and lots of bread, sidewalk cafes on almost every street, a neighborhood of cake shops, lots of sushi, an awesome bar in the upstairs of a shop in a tiny little alley, and a six-pack of Sam Adams that we located in a specialty beer shop.
Aside from food, we did a lot of walking and exploring the various neighborhoods of the city, all of which would aptly be described as cute, riding the snazzy public transportation trams, and generally seeing the sights, including a great art museum with lots of older and modern Aboriginal art. Melbourne was by no means a large city, and it had an incredibly cozy feel to it, along with the most variety of neighborhoods and ethnic centers of all the cities in Australia. We also took a day and drove part of the Great Ocean Highway, along the coast of Australia. It was indescribably beautiful and there were plenty of overlooks and small paths down to cliffs overlooking the ocean. And, definite highlight of the trip, we saw several koala bears, just chilling in their trees! There were just as adorable as I had hoped they would be and all looked like grumpy old men. We unanimously decided that if Eric were to be reborn in animal form, he would most definitely be a koala.
We stayed for 5 days in Melbourne, and then it was time to hit the open road. We drove for two days through the ‘bush’ and then through the outback, sleeping in Eric’s tiny car, a feat of no small achievement, and cooking on a small propane burner at rest stops. And, I was more than successful in convincing and demonstrating to Mr. Ashcroft that living and eating out of one’s car does not mean one must subsist solely on pb&j sandwiches. In addition, during our time on the road, we saw many cows, ridiculous road signs warning about the cows on the road, even more ridiculous and rhyming road signs warning against driving while tires (favorites include: Fatigue is Fatal; Take a Break, Stay Awake for Safety’s Sake; and Survive This Drive), road trains (giant trucks pulling at least 5 trailers while driving on the wrong side of the road on tiny little two lane roads- terrifying), and dead kangaroos. Now, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I have a small bone to pick with Australia: I came more excited to see kangaroos than anything else. There are hundreds of thousands of kangaroos all over the continent in many colors, shapes, and sized. But, despite the fact that Eric has seen more than he can remember, from the second I get to your country the only kangaroos I see are road-kill. Why? Also worth mentioning are the flies. Insane numbers of flies live off of who knows what in this wilderness, and instantly swarm anything that is moving slower than a car. Thankfully they disappeared at night because it was so cold (I bought a giant pair of sweatpants, socks, and a sweater in Melbourne- the tropics have made me weak!).
Finally, after countless outback towns consisting of a gas station and a motel and opal mines, we reached Uluru. After pitching our cozy little tent at a very overpriced campground in a small town built and inhabited totally by tourists (admittedly, it was a little strange) we drove out to Uluru, formally, and less politically correctly, known as Ayers Rock, to watch the sunset. While it was a bit overcast and slightly anticlimactic, we did hear an amazing country song fittingly entitled “There’s a Rainbow Over the Rock” chesseily (yes, I’m trying to make that an adverb) blasting from one of the many 4WDs that Australian families had rented for their outback vacation. Classic. Aside from being constantly terrified of the numerous things that can kill you in the outback, I really enjoyed our time here.
For the next couple days we perfect the art of rapidly making morning beverages and oatmeal for breakfast before the flies could descend, and spent the rest of the next two days hiking around Uluru and Kata Tjuta, which are both part of the same national park and a World Heritage Site. First, Eric and I did the base walk around Uluru, which was pretty amazing, despite being covered in flies for the majority of the time. Eric even bought a hat with pictures of flies on it in some effort to trick them, but alas, it was to no avail. Although I did enjoy making fun of him for wearing the hat. Uluru itself is immense, and there are caves, overhangs, and Aboriginal carvings around a large portion of the rock. Most of Uluru are sacred Aboriginal sites for either the men or the women, and as non-Aboriginals we aren’t privy to the information or details of why or where each of these exist. There was some more information about the importance of Uluru to the Aboriginals and some basic versions of important myths and tales that occurred there in a very well run visitor’s center that we visited a few times, and all of it was really interesting. There was also information about how the National Park Service and the original Aboriginal landowners have recently formed a governing board to jointly manage the land and parks services. Once last note on this is how impressive it is that a civilization could flourish in the middle of a desert, and some of the survival techniques and sources of food and water are just amazing. We also went on a short guided walk with a park ranger the following morning to a small water hole (but, it being the middle of the desert, the water level was pretty low) and aside from one ridiculous woman (there’s always one) it was really great. Also, Eric got the first of many chance to demonstrate his impressive knowledge of rocks and geography to himself and me, which is always fun.
We also hiked Kata Tjuta, somehow anglicized to “The Olgas”, which, frankly, I loved, even more than Uluru. It was about 45 kilometers away from Uluru, and the loop trail lead down into a lush valley surrounded by twelve giant rock formations. The views were stunning, and there’s no way I can describe how lovely it was with any justice. Sufficed to say, this was my favorite part of the entire trip.
We came out to Uluru with the set intention to climb it. It’s a pretty difficult climb, especially in the heat and sun, and we wanted to make sure we started early enough in the day to climb the tough ascent before the sun really kicked it and that we had plenty of water, food, and proper attire. The first day we set out to climb, the trail was closed due to high wind. Same thing happened the second day. On the third day, our last shot at climbing, what do you think happened? That’s right, it rained. In the desert. In a place where it rains a few times each year. And it wasn’t even enough rain to create awesome waterfalls and such off the rock. Just a small steady sprinkle. Needless to say, we were, and probably still are, highly disappointed.
I suppose the plus side is that we ended up leaving a day early and thus were able to make it to Adelaide with a fair portion of a day left to see a bit of the city. The most notable event from our two-day drive to Adelaide was our flat tire in the middle of nowhere (thankfully we had a spare in the trunk), and our eventful hour at a rest-stop town in which I proved to be quite gifted at playing the damsel in distress who doesn’t know anything about cars. Seriously, I need to learn how to change a tire. In Adelaide Eric and I were somehow delegated out of the main hostel and into what amounted to the couples dorm across the street, which was actually very nice and comfy, and meant we didn’t have to deal with or talk to that many hostel people. We wandered a bit, and after several thwarted attempts to eat fun vegetarian food on a Sunday night in a town where everything is closed, we were successful in locating a Chinese restaurant (hooray for the Chinese and their long business hours) and had a very pleasant last meal together accompanied by an extremely intoxicated group of young professionals.
Sadly, I had to leave early the next morning, and after a tearful goodbye and a delayed flight I made it to Sydney where I had an eight-hour layover before my flight to Tonga. I figured out the train system, which is wonderfully run but horribly expensive, and went down to Circular Quay to see the bridge and the Opera House, snap a few photos, wander around, and grab lunch. Then, it was back to the airport and the Kingdom of Tonga.
The trip was a wonderful break, and the company was indescribably needed. I loved Australia, and only wish I had had more time there. Now, it’s back to work and real life, although the tim-tams I brought back will make it a bit sweeter (excuse the pun, I really couldn’t help myself [I know Thom, even after that NY Times op. ed. piece]) for at least a week.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Reflections and Thoughts
I've known I wanted to join Peace Corps for years. But it's not until you actually get settled in another country, until you have a house and a job and friends and a community that is so completely removed from your life back in America that the 27 month commitment really sinks in. There have been some pretty high highs and several desperatly low lows thus far, and some mornings you can't help but think, 'what am I doing here?', but all in all I'm really glad I'm here.
Still, especially when things happen back in the US, I wonder if it's right for me to be here, if the questions I'm asked weekly by my Tongan community aren't a bit valid. Other than wanting to know why I'm not married, most people usually ask me why I left my family and friends, why I'm so far from home. I've thought a lot about this, particuarly this week, and I'm finally able to start reconciling my thoughts and feelings. There are going to be important events, both joyful celebrations and tearful goodbyes, that I miss as a result of being here. But as long as some part of me can still be there, and I know I'm making a difference or doing a bit of good, it's worth it.
All of my group is in Nuku'alofa (the name of the capital, which translated means "the abode of love"- isn't that beautiful) right now for training, and I'm hoping we come out of this mini (and much needed) break and time together reenergized and ready to tackle the challenges we've all come up against.
In addition, I am flying to Australia on Monday for my first vacation. I am meeting up with Eric and we're planning some epic roadtripping and sightseeing that will take us from the city of Melbourne, up to Uluru, and over to Adelaide over the course of two weeks. I am so excited to see Eric again- I could really use some time with a good friend right now- and to finally visit Australia, the land of kangaroos and tim-tams. I probably won't be posting for a few weeks, but I will be sure to compile a massive summary upon my return.
Know I'm thinking of all of you, and that I would have given anything to be in DC this past week. Also, to those undergrad ultimate players, especially seniors, who may read this blog, best of luck at Sectionals this weekend- I'm cheering for you!
Still, especially when things happen back in the US, I wonder if it's right for me to be here, if the questions I'm asked weekly by my Tongan community aren't a bit valid. Other than wanting to know why I'm not married, most people usually ask me why I left my family and friends, why I'm so far from home. I've thought a lot about this, particuarly this week, and I'm finally able to start reconciling my thoughts and feelings. There are going to be important events, both joyful celebrations and tearful goodbyes, that I miss as a result of being here. But as long as some part of me can still be there, and I know I'm making a difference or doing a bit of good, it's worth it.
All of my group is in Nuku'alofa (the name of the capital, which translated means "the abode of love"- isn't that beautiful) right now for training, and I'm hoping we come out of this mini (and much needed) break and time together reenergized and ready to tackle the challenges we've all come up against.
In addition, I am flying to Australia on Monday for my first vacation. I am meeting up with Eric and we're planning some epic roadtripping and sightseeing that will take us from the city of Melbourne, up to Uluru, and over to Adelaide over the course of two weeks. I am so excited to see Eric again- I could really use some time with a good friend right now- and to finally visit Australia, the land of kangaroos and tim-tams. I probably won't be posting for a few weeks, but I will be sure to compile a massive summary upon my return.
Know I'm thinking of all of you, and that I would have given anything to be in DC this past week. Also, to those undergrad ultimate players, especially seniors, who may read this blog, best of luck at Sectionals this weekend- I'm cheering for you!
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