My options are: Stay home and listen to BBC reruns on the Peace Corps issued transistor radio... OR... Go watch the prize fight between Tonga and Samoa!
{Last Week}
I hang out in town and talk to the locals as I expand my community knowledge. There is a table set up outside a local pool hall were a group of Tongans promote their fights. Don King is nowhere to be seen. I usually chat with them, as they are a gregarious group, and they really want to see some palangis (foreigners) at their events. I commit to 'try' to make it.
The night comes (Saturday the 29th - yes it is already Sunday here in Tonga as I post this). It is pouring and the stadium is many miles away on the most dangerous road in the Kingdom. I leave my sparkling new bicycle at the campground and walk off into the rain. After perhaps a mile I spot a cab and $10 later I see the gates of the country's basketball arena. TOP$20 gets me into the the big event!
I buy a couple of bags of locally grown peanuts from a little kid (TOP$1 each). They are great.
The crowd is mostly men and a fair number of kids. We are all in a good mood and having a ball.
Since this is Tonga we start with a lengthy lotu (prayer), some hymns and musical entertainment. Then a bunch or amateur events. They are fun and we get one knock out.
I think I am the only white face in the place but I am wrong! They announce that a Palangi will referee the next fight. It turns out this is a joke. There is a Tongan referee who has sprayed his hair (afro style) with bright yellow hair dye and is masquerading as a palangi. What great fun!
The the professionals matches (2). The Samoans come out wrapped in a Samoan flag, the Tongans draped in theirs. We stand for the national anthems and the Samoan wipes up the Tongan in the first match.
Then for the title fight. The Tongan is the current heavyweight champion. I'm not sure of what, but I think some sort of South Pacific region. In an unanimous decision the Tongan retains his title!
So now it is about 10PM, dark, raining, and I am many miles from my campsite. I chat with some youth as I try to hitch a ride into town. They live here, but standing in the rain talking with a Peace Corps is good fun and beats walking home. They try to help, but no luck. Finally a car pulls up! Two women and their sleeping kids. I ask to be dropped at the bypass road (less than a mile from where I sleep) but they insist on taking me to my door. They are from a small village and their last Peace Corps Volunteer was also from Texas. She was 26 and left in August. Nice ladies.
We have boxing here on a regular basis. I'm gonna try to get a couple of the guys to join me next time. I will keep looking for Don King in the crowd!
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Party Crashers
I'm riding around town in the early morning. The sun is rising and a few people are just starting to mill about.
I approach the police station and stop at the 4 way before it. Two vans are both turning around in the intersection. They sort of face each other. They both gun it and slam head on into each other - CRASH!
Both cars then back up and rush off in different directions. This is how accidents are resolved here.
One of the crowd of loitering policeman commandeers the next vehicle to pass by and begins pursuit of the closest perpetrator. He didn't really need the ride as his perp has broken down just up the block, probably from a crushed radiator. I don't stay to see what happens.
---------------------
The roads here are very dangerous. As a person not trusted to drive (Peace Corps Rule #2322) I navigate these roads on a bicycle. There is not a day that I don't head off the road as someone comes straight at me. Since I am on the the left side of the left lane (we drive to the left here) there is no reason for anyone sober to do this.
In Va Vau one of the trainees was in several wrecks in one week. All were resolved by simply driving away. I was in one where the road had parked cars on both sides. Our van and the oncoming van both squeezed into the narrow space available. The sides of our vehicles scraped loudly as we passed. Neither stopped. Our driver simply stated that he had a cousin who could fix it. No flipping the bird. No shouting, and certainly no stopping.
Also in Va Vau I witnessed a near fatal crash on a lonely country road. Three young men had gotten totally drunk and the driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He hit an oncoming tree. They were all ejected. This happened before noon. No one would take them to the hospital until the cops came. The locals were angry about the drunk driving and their prosecution was more important than their survival. I can't say as I blame them.
I approach the police station and stop at the 4 way before it. Two vans are both turning around in the intersection. They sort of face each other. They both gun it and slam head on into each other - CRASH!
Both cars then back up and rush off in different directions. This is how accidents are resolved here.
One of the crowd of loitering policeman commandeers the next vehicle to pass by and begins pursuit of the closest perpetrator. He didn't really need the ride as his perp has broken down just up the block, probably from a crushed radiator. I don't stay to see what happens.
---------------------
The roads here are very dangerous. As a person not trusted to drive (Peace Corps Rule #2322) I navigate these roads on a bicycle. There is not a day that I don't head off the road as someone comes straight at me. Since I am on the the left side of the left lane (we drive to the left here) there is no reason for anyone sober to do this.
In Va Vau one of the trainees was in several wrecks in one week. All were resolved by simply driving away. I was in one where the road had parked cars on both sides. Our van and the oncoming van both squeezed into the narrow space available. The sides of our vehicles scraped loudly as we passed. Neither stopped. Our driver simply stated that he had a cousin who could fix it. No flipping the bird. No shouting, and certainly no stopping.
Also in Va Vau I witnessed a near fatal crash on a lonely country road. Three young men had gotten totally drunk and the driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He hit an oncoming tree. They were all ejected. This happened before noon. No one would take them to the hospital until the cops came. The locals were angry about the drunk driving and their prosecution was more important than their survival. I can't say as I blame them.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
The Gymn
Don't worry, the bike didn't break again (yet). I just included this shot so you can admire the beast and besides that is the gym behind.
It is the only gym in Tonga. In the entire country.
It exists to support the local rugby team and is open Mon-Fri 06:00 - 21:00. Sat 06:00 - 12:00 and closed (duh) on Sunday.
The gear is mostly old, but who care if the free weights are bit rusty? Not much here, but again they have the stuff I want, a bench for bench pressing, a preacher bench and a few universal machines.
I have started to meet the guys. I stand out. I am perhaps a third the size of the average weight lifting patron. I talk to a regular. His tattooed arms are HUGE. He is an attorney.
There are some palangis that come here, but mostly for the classes. There is a kickboxing class two nights a week, step one night, weight aerobics, and yoga on Saturday morning.
I'm pleased with the discovery. This is a better place to network than church since there is a lot of time to talk when working out.
Christmas in Tonga
Christmas eve. No one sleeps in Tonga.
Fireworks pop wizz and bang everywhere. A few big ones are set off outside my window, but my lack of response moves the kids to a more interesting target. The fireworks will not stop tonight - tomorrow or tomorrow night. They go on all night.
A small group of girls walks by carolling Tongan hymns about 10PM. Nice.
I decide I need to sleep. It is not possible with the fireworks and laughing kids enjoying their pyrotechnic exploits. I finally pass out in the wee hours of the morning.
I awake and the room is full of singing people? I turn on the light - no, they are not in here. But they SOUND like they are?
The church choir, all of them, are slowly walking by singing Hymns. Since the streets are only a meter or so from my window on two sides (can you say Privacy?) I am surrounding by singing Tongans. Tongan can sing. Really - they have a gift.
I check my watch it is 2:48AM.
Come to learn the church choirs start at midnight and sings until the 6AM service in the morning. Not to worry this church only does it on Christmas Eve. The BIGGER church (LongoLongo) has four choirs and they will pick up the duty tomorrow night - the same hours.
The bells are ringing, people are singing, cocks are crowing. I am up at 05:30 Christmas Morning. No signs of Santa.
I make coffee and use the toilet. I shave in the kitchen (my bathroom drains back up if I use them and I assume they are connected to the toilet? Can you say clean feet?) The kitchen sink drains to a pipe that unceremoniously dumps it's waste on the ground a few inches from the wall.
I return to the bathroom, wondering how short a shower I can take before the drain will back up. The shower only trickles, I hope I can get 30 seconds?
I look in the toilet. Another molokou! (Toxic centipede.) He has already stopped swimming. I don't know if he swam up the pipe, or took a swan dive from the lip of the toilet? Since I was sitting there a few minutes earlier I have visions of the little darling reaching over the bowl trying to get his fangs into anything hanging within reach. I decide to keep the lid up from now on, after all there are no women here to offend.
I ride my bike to town. I pass a bread shop. It is open on Christmas but only sells Christmas cakes, not something I want.
I have decided to attend the BIG Century church across from the king's tomb. It is a Free Tongan church. This will be the fourth different church I have attended since returning to Nuku'alofa.
The church is built in the European tradition. Cruciform shape and flying buttresses. It must be built well as it has apparently survived a lot of earthquakes.
I ride up to a group of ministers and inquire as to the hour of the service. I learn that it will be at 09:45. I am wearing long shorts, appropriate for the bike ride, but less so for church. I sneak around the bathroom and return in my tupenu and ta'vala. They are pleased.
I am very early and sit in the middle of church and observe. I meet some of the older men hanging around. One appears to be the youth minister. People suggest I move forward. It turns out I am sitting in the middle of the band section. Yup, they have a brass band here!
After a few moves and a lot of handshakes I end up in the middle of the church in the front row of the choir. The best seat in the house.
This is the King's church. He and his family do not show.
During the service a young boy starts running up and down the center interacting with the congregation. Yes - he has a plastic .45 and he is shooting us during the service. It is a good looking gun, even has a working slide. And no.. there is no red tip on the barrel.
After church I have lunch with my language trainer. Her house is always full of kids so it is a good place for Christmas. I have my first giant clam. I like it.
The little boy plays at slitting my throat with a toy box cutter. I have never even heard of such a thing, and as an American post 9/11 it bugs me. I smile and don't let on.
'Ofa warns me that there will be a brass band (yes another one!!!) across from my house at 3PM, so I should go now if I want a nap. It is already nearly 2.
At 3Pm the bells ring at the church, then the huge band starts up. It is 20 meters from my bed.
Around 5Pm the family I live with brings me another plate of food. It include the purple kumala (sweet potato) that I really like. I spend some time with them and learn about the four choirs that will be roaming the neighborhood tonight.
Oh well. I can always catch up on my sleep tomorrow?
Ahhhhhhh... Christmas in Tonga!
Fireworks pop wizz and bang everywhere. A few big ones are set off outside my window, but my lack of response moves the kids to a more interesting target. The fireworks will not stop tonight - tomorrow or tomorrow night. They go on all night.
A small group of girls walks by carolling Tongan hymns about 10PM. Nice.
I decide I need to sleep. It is not possible with the fireworks and laughing kids enjoying their pyrotechnic exploits. I finally pass out in the wee hours of the morning.
I awake and the room is full of singing people? I turn on the light - no, they are not in here. But they SOUND like they are?
The church choir, all of them, are slowly walking by singing Hymns. Since the streets are only a meter or so from my window on two sides (can you say Privacy?) I am surrounding by singing Tongans. Tongan can sing. Really - they have a gift.
I check my watch it is 2:48AM.
Come to learn the church choirs start at midnight and sings until the 6AM service in the morning. Not to worry this church only does it on Christmas Eve. The BIGGER church (LongoLongo) has four choirs and they will pick up the duty tomorrow night - the same hours.
The bells are ringing, people are singing, cocks are crowing. I am up at 05:30 Christmas Morning. No signs of Santa.
I make coffee and use the toilet. I shave in the kitchen (my bathroom drains back up if I use them and I assume they are connected to the toilet? Can you say clean feet?) The kitchen sink drains to a pipe that unceremoniously dumps it's waste on the ground a few inches from the wall.
I return to the bathroom, wondering how short a shower I can take before the drain will back up. The shower only trickles, I hope I can get 30 seconds?
I look in the toilet. Another molokou! (Toxic centipede.) He has already stopped swimming. I don't know if he swam up the pipe, or took a swan dive from the lip of the toilet? Since I was sitting there a few minutes earlier I have visions of the little darling reaching over the bowl trying to get his fangs into anything hanging within reach. I decide to keep the lid up from now on, after all there are no women here to offend.
I ride my bike to town. I pass a bread shop. It is open on Christmas but only sells Christmas cakes, not something I want.
I have decided to attend the BIG Century church across from the king's tomb. It is a Free Tongan church. This will be the fourth different church I have attended since returning to Nuku'alofa.
The church is built in the European tradition. Cruciform shape and flying buttresses. It must be built well as it has apparently survived a lot of earthquakes.
I ride up to a group of ministers and inquire as to the hour of the service. I learn that it will be at 09:45. I am wearing long shorts, appropriate for the bike ride, but less so for church. I sneak around the bathroom and return in my tupenu and ta'vala. They are pleased.
I am very early and sit in the middle of church and observe. I meet some of the older men hanging around. One appears to be the youth minister. People suggest I move forward. It turns out I am sitting in the middle of the band section. Yup, they have a brass band here!
After a few moves and a lot of handshakes I end up in the middle of the church in the front row of the choir. The best seat in the house.
This is the King's church. He and his family do not show.
During the service a young boy starts running up and down the center interacting with the congregation. Yes - he has a plastic .45 and he is shooting us during the service. It is a good looking gun, even has a working slide. And no.. there is no red tip on the barrel.
After church I have lunch with my language trainer. Her house is always full of kids so it is a good place for Christmas. I have my first giant clam. I like it.
The little boy plays at slitting my throat with a toy box cutter. I have never even heard of such a thing, and as an American post 9/11 it bugs me. I smile and don't let on.
'Ofa warns me that there will be a brass band (yes another one!!!) across from my house at 3PM, so I should go now if I want a nap. It is already nearly 2.
At 3Pm the bells ring at the church, then the huge band starts up. It is 20 meters from my bed.
Around 5Pm the family I live with brings me another plate of food. It include the purple kumala (sweet potato) that I really like. I spend some time with them and learn about the four choirs that will be roaming the neighborhood tonight.
Oh well. I can always catch up on my sleep tomorrow?
Ahhhhhhh... Christmas in Tonga!
Kilisimasi FieFia!!!! - Bang Bang!
What is with all the guns? As the days lead up to Christmas all the male kids are becoming better armed. By Christmas eve virtually all of them are packing some sort of cheap Chinese toy gun. They are everywhere. I pick through the debris of broken guns in the street looking for anything I can recycle into a bike part or something. I keep a nylon washer.
As I walk down the road a parent tells his child to "shoot the Palangi". I get blasted by an electronic ray gun and play that I've been hit. Everyone laughs. I am downtown. A gray haired gentleman walks by with a plastic shotgun. He walks in a small shop and announces "Merry Christmas" (in English) then "Bam Bam" as he pretends to blast the woman behind the counter. He laughs and laughs then goes on the next shop where he repeats the joke.
I discuss this with the woman I live with. (Well... not live WITH, but share a house with.) It is Christmas afternoon. Her sons have huge new toy guns. The biggest is labeled "The Terminator." No conclusions as yet.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Transportation 101 - the midterm exam
On Monday I return my bike to Primas. I leave it until after lunch and they replace the crank. They assure me that this time they have tightened everything and I will have no more trouble. We cordially part. I am back on wheels!
By Thursday my back tire is bulging and threatening to pop off the rim. I deflate it, reset it, and with moderate pressure it is still bulging. I assume the tube is kinked.
No worries, I will stop by in the morning and have them fix it.
As I pedal up the dark streets to town (I usually go to town about dawn) I feel a faintly familiar wobble. This time the LEFT crank falls to the ground.
To keep the story short - Primas stepped up to the plate and put it all back together. I am back on wheels. I even found some sewing machine oil so now I have the only bike in the Kingdom with an oiled chain.
By Thursday my back tire is bulging and threatening to pop off the rim. I deflate it, reset it, and with moderate pressure it is still bulging. I assume the tube is kinked.
No worries, I will stop by in the morning and have them fix it.
As I pedal up the dark streets to town (I usually go to town about dawn) I feel a faintly familiar wobble. This time the LEFT crank falls to the ground.
To keep the story short - Primas stepped up to the plate and put it all back together. I am back on wheels. I even found some sewing machine oil so now I have the only bike in the Kingdom with an oiled chain.
How many legs does that thing have?
My landlady finally got me a shower head. Now I plan to take a shower instead of a bucket bath for the first time in a week. I strip, much enjoyed I am sure by the peeking neighbors, and head into the bathroom.
What the heck is that? Climbing the slick tile wall is a ten inch long brown centipede. He gracefully grips a small crack in the ceramic as he slowly heads toward the ceiling.
It is a molokai. They are very venomous.
I lack any appropriate crushing tools and despite the number of indigenous arthropods have not purchased any of the hard core pesticide sprays that are so common here. Besides, I have heard that these things laugh at chemical onslaughts.
I grab a can opener and push the critter into my bath bucket. Now what?
I know... I'll flush it down the toilet. An ancient and trusted method of pest removal. In he goes.
Swimming does not phase this thing. He is doing laps in my toilet.
I flush. Here we have two buttons for flushing. One for #1 and the 2nd for #2.
I push the #2 button and hold. Gallons of water flush through the basin.
Problem solved! Wait... Wait... It swims upstream back into the bowl!
Well I certainly am not going to sit there with that thing doing the backstroke beneath.
Eventually it gets tired and I repeat the flush, this time using every drop. It takes 5 minutes for the water pressure to recover enough for a trickle from the shower head.
But my multi legged friend is gone.
What the heck is that? Climbing the slick tile wall is a ten inch long brown centipede. He gracefully grips a small crack in the ceramic as he slowly heads toward the ceiling.
It is a molokai. They are very venomous.
I lack any appropriate crushing tools and despite the number of indigenous arthropods have not purchased any of the hard core pesticide sprays that are so common here. Besides, I have heard that these things laugh at chemical onslaughts.
I grab a can opener and push the critter into my bath bucket. Now what?
I know... I'll flush it down the toilet. An ancient and trusted method of pest removal. In he goes.
Swimming does not phase this thing. He is doing laps in my toilet.
I flush. Here we have two buttons for flushing. One for #1 and the 2nd for #2.
I push the #2 button and hold. Gallons of water flush through the basin.
Problem solved! Wait... Wait... It swims upstream back into the bowl!
Well I certainly am not going to sit there with that thing doing the backstroke beneath.
Eventually it gets tired and I repeat the flush, this time using every drop. It takes 5 minutes for the water pressure to recover enough for a trickle from the shower head.
But my multi legged friend is gone.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Transportation 101
I hike all over town. I go as far east as you can go from here, then back to the Indian Shop east of town (yes I was lost.) Then back into the city to the main department store. I cover about 25 miles on foot starting at 4AM. My feet stink. I stink. I am severely dehydrated. I have visited every major store in the country.
I am seeking a bicycle.
I don't want anything fancy, just something that has a prayer of surviving a two year stint here. Initially I think I'll try a single speed cruiser, but it rides like a truck towing a trailer. I finally select the mountain bike. It lists for TOP$195 (about US$100). This is a lot of money for me.
All of the bikes here are of the bottom of the line variety that even WalMart wouldn't carry. I would kill for a Huffy.
I negotiate a 10% discount and drive off (oops I mean walk off) to Peace Corps. They have helmets for us all. Riding a bike without a helmet is a cardinal sin.
The best one I can find in the heap of available helmets displays a manufacturing sticker from Jan 1999. The foam and shell are broken, interiors components have turned to black dust. There are arthropods residing in it. It is the best there is.
I put it on top of my head. It is way to small and sits on top like a Devo hat. The Tongans are gonna think I'm insane.
Everyone tells me - "Sione - your head is all black," referring to the rain of crap from the helmet. Oh well. At least I have a way to get to my campsite for the night! I can ride my new bike!!!!
I head out of town. My campsite is really inconveniently located. I'm perhaps two miles away when I feel a wobble. The entire right crank - pedal, crank arm, and rings... falls on the road. Traffic swerves around the crashing palangi.
Welcome to Tonga. I look at the bright side. At least there is a good chance it will be stolen!
I am seeking a bicycle.
I don't want anything fancy, just something that has a prayer of surviving a two year stint here. Initially I think I'll try a single speed cruiser, but it rides like a truck towing a trailer. I finally select the mountain bike. It lists for TOP$195 (about US$100). This is a lot of money for me.
All of the bikes here are of the bottom of the line variety that even WalMart wouldn't carry. I would kill for a Huffy.
I negotiate a 10% discount and drive off (oops I mean walk off) to Peace Corps. They have helmets for us all. Riding a bike without a helmet is a cardinal sin.
The best one I can find in the heap of available helmets displays a manufacturing sticker from Jan 1999. The foam and shell are broken, interiors components have turned to black dust. There are arthropods residing in it. It is the best there is.
I put it on top of my head. It is way to small and sits on top like a Devo hat. The Tongans are gonna think I'm insane.
Everyone tells me - "Sione - your head is all black," referring to the rain of crap from the helmet. Oh well. At least I have a way to get to my campsite for the night! I can ride my new bike!!!!
I head out of town. My campsite is really inconveniently located. I'm perhaps two miles away when I feel a wobble. The entire right crank - pedal, crank arm, and rings... falls on the road. Traffic swerves around the crashing palangi.
Welcome to Tonga. I look at the bright side. At least there is a good chance it will be stolen!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Good Morning Tonga!
I strap on my sandals and take the first step of my morning journey. I splash through pig shit riddled potholes made invisible by puddles that fill them in the predawn darkness. Past the sleeping police barracks and national rugby stadium I hike. Not unlike the Appalachian Trail, just flatter?
Eventually I leave the nondescript suburbs behind and the aromas of the big city - Nuku'alofa, greet me like an old friend.
I stop at a particularly clean puddle to wash an unidentified goo from my toes. Better... I continue the hike from my campsite to the imagined scenic overlook that is the capitol of the Kingdom.
Empty slabs remind me where shops once stood. Burned by rioters in last years 'event' they leave few traces of their prior life. A few little blue tiles stubbornly stick to the slab of this one, large white tiles pattern the next.
Some were shops, there must have been some variety before... I've heard that there was a movie theater in town, somewhere... I would love to be able to go to the movies.
Not the slightest inkling of an effort to rebuild. Not even the optimistic billboard of a developer. I think that perhaps I can write a grant application for basketball hoops, two per abandoned slab. We could be known all over the world as the city with the most basketball courts per capita.
I wait for the only coffee shop to open. It rains again. Harder this time. Still a couple of hours before I can invest in a cup of coffee.
Hmmm... I'll suggest the basketball hoop idea to one of the volunteers working on youth athletics. For now I'll stick with my efforts to introduce Tonga to advanced cultivars of citrus available through grafting.
Eventually I leave the nondescript suburbs behind and the aromas of the big city - Nuku'alofa, greet me like an old friend.
I stop at a particularly clean puddle to wash an unidentified goo from my toes. Better... I continue the hike from my campsite to the imagined scenic overlook that is the capitol of the Kingdom.
Empty slabs remind me where shops once stood. Burned by rioters in last years 'event' they leave few traces of their prior life. A few little blue tiles stubbornly stick to the slab of this one, large white tiles pattern the next.
Some were shops, there must have been some variety before... I've heard that there was a movie theater in town, somewhere... I would love to be able to go to the movies.
Not the slightest inkling of an effort to rebuild. Not even the optimistic billboard of a developer. I think that perhaps I can write a grant application for basketball hoops, two per abandoned slab. We could be known all over the world as the city with the most basketball courts per capita.
I wait for the only coffee shop to open. It rains again. Harder this time. Still a couple of hours before I can invest in a cup of coffee.
Hmmm... I'll suggest the basketball hoop idea to one of the volunteers working on youth athletics. For now I'll stick with my efforts to introduce Tonga to advanced cultivars of citrus available through grafting.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Shake and Bake
Yup, we felt the big earthquake last night. It was a 7.9 but luckily it was deep enough not to shake us much or cause a Tsunami.
Also the cyclone (Daman) has weakened considerably and probably won't hit us directly. We've had our share of wind, but nowhere near a good Texas thunderstorm.
Also the cyclone (Daman) has weakened considerably and probably won't hit us directly. We've had our share of wind, but nowhere near a good Texas thunderstorm.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Sunday in Ta'anea - Church Anyone?
I start writing about my Sunday and I quickly get to several pages... No one wants to sweat though a blog entry that long, so here is the abbreviated version of my last Sunday in Ta'Anea Vava'u.
Up at 6 - Breakfast on my private table of eggs fried in oil, papaya, and fried bread. I bath with a water glass, shave my face and head amongst the banana trees out back, and put on my best tupenu (skirt) and tauvala (mat that men wear over their skirt when they want to be formal.) Tufui provides a red-feather adorned tauvala and a huge necklace covered in red plastic jewels. I feel like a fakaleti (Tongan transvestite - common and accepted here).
My host dad marches out at 07:20. We arrive at the church hall at 07:30 and join the Kava party already in progress. The FieFekau (minister) shows up pretty late... after 09:00 and I give my formal Kava speech in Tongan. (Speech 1 for today.)
We drink Kava until 9:45, then I run to the back of the church. I join a couple of other brave volunteers. We sit in the front of the church by the alter. Everyone in the village stares at us proudly.
During the service we each stand to read our part. I read two hymn verses - in Tongan. My verses have the phrase "Sesu pe, Sesu pe" many times. This means "Jesus does, Jesus does". As I come to these key lines I look up from the book and speak directly to the crowd. They go wild. they really love it. Little kids come up to me every day unitl I leave. They smile and say "Sesu pe, Sesu pe". Speech 2 for today.
We finish the service after 11 without making fools of ourselves or having heart attacks. Home for a quick lunch of fried fish, fried chicken (unbreaded), raw fish and a bunch of Tongan roots. We killed the baby pig last night - this time I helps rip off clumps of it's hair with my bare hands - but I digress.
A quick mohe (nap) and its back to Kava. We drink until 16:00 when the next service starts. This is communion and takes 90 minutes. Back for more Kava. Many of the men are totally wasted. Then back for ANOTHER service at 19:00. This one is in our honor. Everyone from the village is here. Even the members of the competing churches.
We each climb to the microphone and give a speech. I start in Tongan giving respect to the important attendees, then give a ten minute speech in English thanking everyone. Speech 3 for today.
After a few of our speeches the church Kava group sings. I am instructed by the minister to join them. Then more speeches.
Another Kava group song (in addition to a bunch of hymns throughout the service). Again I run over to join them, then return to my pew. The other trainees are a bit baffled by all the attention I am getting. They have no idea how much time I put in with the village elders during my 6 weeks here.
Then the Tongans begin their speeches. My Tongan is weak. I am one of the weakest in the group, but I keep hearing my name. Most try to do some of their speech in English for us. They all start with Sione (John) and remember most of the other names. Every speaker refers to the Peace Corps as Sione's Peace Corps group. I am not expecting this, but I really appreciate the emotional feelings of the villagers.
We finish after 90 minutes. Many of the guys don't speak so we can end. They apologize to me after.
Whew... Can I go home? No way...
Back to the Kava hall! More Kava. More singing. No other volunteer comes. I give another speech - #4 for the day.
The local IFAW (International Fund for Animal Welfare) rep come by to thank me for all the time I have spent with him while in Va'vau. He is the most amazing guy (perhaps I'll do an entry about him someday.) He is the biggest Humpback Whale advocate here.
He gives me a great IFAW shirt. All the volunteers will ask me about it when they see me wear it on Tonga'tapu.
I get home after 11. Tufui stays at Kava. We are both pretty toasted. I will have language class at 08:00 in the morning.
I really miss those guys. As an older volunteer they are the best friends I have in Tonga. The younger volunteers spend their time together, so they have a more resilient support structure as we move back to Tonga'Tapu. I am pretty much back to being on my own.
Up at 6 - Breakfast on my private table of eggs fried in oil, papaya, and fried bread. I bath with a water glass, shave my face and head amongst the banana trees out back, and put on my best tupenu (skirt) and tauvala (mat that men wear over their skirt when they want to be formal.) Tufui provides a red-feather adorned tauvala and a huge necklace covered in red plastic jewels. I feel like a fakaleti (Tongan transvestite - common and accepted here).
My host dad marches out at 07:20. We arrive at the church hall at 07:30 and join the Kava party already in progress. The FieFekau (minister) shows up pretty late... after 09:00 and I give my formal Kava speech in Tongan. (Speech 1 for today.)
We drink Kava until 9:45, then I run to the back of the church. I join a couple of other brave volunteers. We sit in the front of the church by the alter. Everyone in the village stares at us proudly.
During the service we each stand to read our part. I read two hymn verses - in Tongan. My verses have the phrase "Sesu pe, Sesu pe" many times. This means "Jesus does, Jesus does". As I come to these key lines I look up from the book and speak directly to the crowd. They go wild. they really love it. Little kids come up to me every day unitl I leave. They smile and say "Sesu pe, Sesu pe". Speech 2 for today.
We finish the service after 11 without making fools of ourselves or having heart attacks. Home for a quick lunch of fried fish, fried chicken (unbreaded), raw fish and a bunch of Tongan roots. We killed the baby pig last night - this time I helps rip off clumps of it's hair with my bare hands - but I digress.
A quick mohe (nap) and its back to Kava. We drink until 16:00 when the next service starts. This is communion and takes 90 minutes. Back for more Kava. Many of the men are totally wasted. Then back for ANOTHER service at 19:00. This one is in our honor. Everyone from the village is here. Even the members of the competing churches.
We each climb to the microphone and give a speech. I start in Tongan giving respect to the important attendees, then give a ten minute speech in English thanking everyone. Speech 3 for today.
After a few of our speeches the church Kava group sings. I am instructed by the minister to join them. Then more speeches.
Another Kava group song (in addition to a bunch of hymns throughout the service). Again I run over to join them, then return to my pew. The other trainees are a bit baffled by all the attention I am getting. They have no idea how much time I put in with the village elders during my 6 weeks here.
Then the Tongans begin their speeches. My Tongan is weak. I am one of the weakest in the group, but I keep hearing my name. Most try to do some of their speech in English for us. They all start with Sione (John) and remember most of the other names. Every speaker refers to the Peace Corps as Sione's Peace Corps group. I am not expecting this, but I really appreciate the emotional feelings of the villagers.
We finish after 90 minutes. Many of the guys don't speak so we can end. They apologize to me after.
Whew... Can I go home? No way...
Back to the Kava hall! More Kava. More singing. No other volunteer comes. I give another speech - #4 for the day.
The local IFAW (International Fund for Animal Welfare) rep come by to thank me for all the time I have spent with him while in Va'vau. He is the most amazing guy (perhaps I'll do an entry about him someday.) He is the biggest Humpback Whale advocate here.
He gives me a great IFAW shirt. All the volunteers will ask me about it when they see me wear it on Tonga'tapu.
I get home after 11. Tufui stays at Kava. We are both pretty toasted. I will have language class at 08:00 in the morning.
I really miss those guys. As an older volunteer they are the best friends I have in Tonga. The younger volunteers spend their time together, so they have a more resilient support structure as we move back to Tonga'Tapu. I am pretty much back to being on my own.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Weight... How can that be????
I eat a lot here and most of it is carbs and fat.
I've lost over 15 lbs since I arrived. My hypothesis is it is the lack of weight training. I figure I've lost 20lbs of muscle and gained 5 of fat.
Male volunteers almost always lose weight here, but women mostly gain.
Who'da thunk?
I've lost over 15 lbs since I arrived. My hypothesis is it is the lack of weight training. I figure I've lost 20lbs of muscle and gained 5 of fat.
Male volunteers almost always lose weight here, but women mostly gain.
Who'da thunk?
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
You've Got Mail!
Today I received my first letter from the states.
Many of the other volunteers receive a couple of parcels each time we get mail and it awful depressing when the mail runs out and you still don't have anything.
Thanks for the letter Terri!
Many of the other volunteers receive a couple of parcels each time we get mail and it awful depressing when the mail runs out and you still don't have anything.
Thanks for the letter Terri!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Lean on me
A brief guide to Tongan meats:
Puaka (Pig) - Mainly for celebrations or special occasions. A local piglet consists of a set of bones covered with a thin film of meat, an inch or so of pure fat, and skin. We tear into it with our hands. I am usually asked to start, and rip off a lard covered leg praying that somehow this one will be different and actually have some meat on it.
Crisco anyone?
Sipi (Mutton) - From New Zealand, this import consists of inch-long rib bones covered with a thick sludge of sheep fat. Banned in most Pacific islands for it health effects, it is a favorite here. The Tongans use the few teeth they possess to crush and eat the rib bones. Slurp, crunch, slurp crack crunch... Yes it as gross as it sounds.
Moa (chicken) - Also imported from New Zealand, only the leg quarters and backs arrive here. White meat is not considered edible. A typical preparation is to hack the chicken into small pieces with a short knife (short here means under 18 inches). A leg may become four pieces of meat embedded with shattered bone fragments. The bones are usually eaten.
Moa Tonga (Local Chicken) - I am confused. There are chickens everywhere here. Lots of them. roosters crow all night. Pigs snap up small chicks that get too close. Chicken everywhere.
So why are we paying a lot of scarce money for imported chicken? None of the trainees has seen a local chicken on a plate, and even eggs are purchased, not collected.
After much inquiry my host dad announces that tomorrow I will be blessed with Moa Tonga. I request that he select a rooster, then I will benefit from both a meal and additional sleep.
ASIDE - Did I mention that I will try any local food? Food defines local culture.
I am the only trainee who will, and it is a great source of pride for both my host families. There is much village discussion about the Peace Corps trainees and each family tries to outdo the others with stories about "my Palangi". I am the prize Palangi (foreigner) in my village. My host dad brags at Kava that I eat Kuli, Hosi and anything else he eats.
Back to my Moa Tonga. As I arrive from language class I step over its steaming guts. They are in front of the door to the house and have not yet been discovered by any of the local scavengers with the exception of a cloud of flies.
Moa Tonga is the skinniest and toughest chicken you can imagine. Even boiled I fear for my teeth as I struggle to tear the dry flesh from the bone. It is bad. I do not let on. MMMmmmmm Ifo! (Yummy) I say!
I get one Moa Tonga as special treat each week after that.
MMmmm Ifo Aupito!
Puaka (Pig) - Mainly for celebrations or special occasions. A local piglet consists of a set of bones covered with a thin film of meat, an inch or so of pure fat, and skin. We tear into it with our hands. I am usually asked to start, and rip off a lard covered leg praying that somehow this one will be different and actually have some meat on it.
Crisco anyone?
Sipi (Mutton) - From New Zealand, this import consists of inch-long rib bones covered with a thick sludge of sheep fat. Banned in most Pacific islands for it health effects, it is a favorite here. The Tongans use the few teeth they possess to crush and eat the rib bones. Slurp, crunch, slurp crack crunch... Yes it as gross as it sounds.
Moa (chicken) - Also imported from New Zealand, only the leg quarters and backs arrive here. White meat is not considered edible. A typical preparation is to hack the chicken into small pieces with a short knife (short here means under 18 inches). A leg may become four pieces of meat embedded with shattered bone fragments. The bones are usually eaten.
Moa Tonga (Local Chicken) - I am confused. There are chickens everywhere here. Lots of them. roosters crow all night. Pigs snap up small chicks that get too close. Chicken everywhere.
So why are we paying a lot of scarce money for imported chicken? None of the trainees has seen a local chicken on a plate, and even eggs are purchased, not collected.
After much inquiry my host dad announces that tomorrow I will be blessed with Moa Tonga. I request that he select a rooster, then I will benefit from both a meal and additional sleep.
ASIDE - Did I mention that I will try any local food? Food defines local culture.
I am the only trainee who will, and it is a great source of pride for both my host families. There is much village discussion about the Peace Corps trainees and each family tries to outdo the others with stories about "my Palangi". I am the prize Palangi (foreigner) in my village. My host dad brags at Kava that I eat Kuli, Hosi and anything else he eats.
Back to my Moa Tonga. As I arrive from language class I step over its steaming guts. They are in front of the door to the house and have not yet been discovered by any of the local scavengers with the exception of a cloud of flies.
Moa Tonga is the skinniest and toughest chicken you can imagine. Even boiled I fear for my teeth as I struggle to tear the dry flesh from the bone. It is bad. I do not let on. MMMmmmmm Ifo! (Yummy) I say!
I get one Moa Tonga as special treat each week after that.
MMmmm Ifo Aupito!
Return to Civilization
Our final day in Vava'u. I wake at 05:30 and rush through a shower (YES! The water is working today!)
We are flying back. A big relief after out boat trip here. No one knows when the plane leaves or even how many planes will fly today, but our village gets to go first because we are the most squared away group. I briefly wake my host dad from his Kava induced slumber to wish him well and I am off in a crowded Peace Corps van.
Most of the village including my host mom follow us to the airport to see us off. By 07:00 Air Tonga has weighed both us and the little bit of luggage we are allowed to take on the flight. (Our real luggage will take the boat back and we hope to see it in a few days?)
The two man airport staff carefully records our weights and fills out a seating chart based on them. My handwritten ticket claims my flight leaves at 16:45. Others say 12:30.
About 07:50 a small (16ish seat) dual turboprop drops from the sky and disgorges it's few passengers. We immediately board and depart. Whew!
We fly at 7,000 feet for most of the trip. We see the many islands on Hapai below. In the distance the huge cinder cone of the volcano pokes above the scattered clouds.
It take just over an hour and we are back to the international airport in Fu'omotu. We land on the paved runway today. (Sometimes they land on the grass.)
It turns out that it will take four flights to get us all back. It takes all day. None of the flights really have a scheduled time or even capacity. Each flight originates in Fiji and they send whatever plane they have available. That is the way we understand it at least.
I write this from the Peace Corps office. Last night I ate half of a decent pizza. NO Tongan root crops! I even got a couple of local beers, served COLD, to wash it down.
When I returned to the guest house I analyzed the plumbing in my shared bathroom. Many rooms are hot water capable, but most residents can't actually get it to work.
I play with the system until I get the on-demand gas heater to activate. (There is a "light" switch downstairs that must be on to drive an electric water booster pump.) I can hear sparks, but no flame. I trace the lines and find an empty gas bottle. With the gas bottle replaced I crash despite the racket of 30 some slightly drunk PCVs partying all night.
This morning I am up at 05:30, plod down to activate the water pump. I shave with a SINK and MIRROR!! Then a real honest to God hot shower.
No coffee until 07:30. It is instant, but it is still heaven. Then we get BACON and french toast. We are ecstatic! We all comment on how it is great to have a lean meal. Bacon is so much leaner than the "meats" we've been eating. I pet the dog at my feet as I eat, careful not to get my fingers into any of the open sores that attract so may flys. Gosh it is good to be back in civilization!
We are flying back. A big relief after out boat trip here. No one knows when the plane leaves or even how many planes will fly today, but our village gets to go first because we are the most squared away group. I briefly wake my host dad from his Kava induced slumber to wish him well and I am off in a crowded Peace Corps van.
Most of the village including my host mom follow us to the airport to see us off. By 07:00 Air Tonga has weighed both us and the little bit of luggage we are allowed to take on the flight. (Our real luggage will take the boat back and we hope to see it in a few days?)
The two man airport staff carefully records our weights and fills out a seating chart based on them. My handwritten ticket claims my flight leaves at 16:45. Others say 12:30.
About 07:50 a small (16ish seat) dual turboprop drops from the sky and disgorges it's few passengers. We immediately board and depart. Whew!
We fly at 7,000 feet for most of the trip. We see the many islands on Hapai below. In the distance the huge cinder cone of the volcano pokes above the scattered clouds.
It take just over an hour and we are back to the international airport in Fu'omotu. We land on the paved runway today. (Sometimes they land on the grass.)
It turns out that it will take four flights to get us all back. It takes all day. None of the flights really have a scheduled time or even capacity. Each flight originates in Fiji and they send whatever plane they have available. That is the way we understand it at least.
I write this from the Peace Corps office. Last night I ate half of a decent pizza. NO Tongan root crops! I even got a couple of local beers, served COLD, to wash it down.
When I returned to the guest house I analyzed the plumbing in my shared bathroom. Many rooms are hot water capable, but most residents can't actually get it to work.
I play with the system until I get the on-demand gas heater to activate. (There is a "light" switch downstairs that must be on to drive an electric water booster pump.) I can hear sparks, but no flame. I trace the lines and find an empty gas bottle. With the gas bottle replaced I crash despite the racket of 30 some slightly drunk PCVs partying all night.
This morning I am up at 05:30, plod down to activate the water pump. I shave with a SINK and MIRROR!! Then a real honest to God hot shower.
No coffee until 07:30. It is instant, but it is still heaven. Then we get BACON and french toast. We are ecstatic! We all comment on how it is great to have a lean meal. Bacon is so much leaner than the "meats" we've been eating. I pet the dog at my feet as I eat, careful not to get my fingers into any of the open sores that attract so may flys. Gosh it is good to be back in civilization!
Good Night... Sleep Tight... Don't let the...
I am already scratching when I wake. The mosquito coil from last night has burned out.
Gosh my leg itches and usually the mosquitoes go for my head, hands and feet?
I look and there is a group of red welts... perhaps 15. (The welts stay for about a week.)
After getting dressed and downing a Tongan breakfast I pull out the Peace Corps medical handbook. Yup, here it is - Bed Bugs.
I tell my host sister. She pretends not to understand. I explain that we need to clean everything from the sheets to the mats on the floor.
She empties the room, then flies in with the B52s and nukes the place with high powered bug spray (more on the spray in a subsequent blog).
The bedding smells of chemicals, but the bedbugs are gone. Hallelujah!
A week later I see her repeating the process with her (sort of) room. The bedbugs have claimed another victim.
FYI - I have learned the Tongan word for bedbug. It translates as Fiji Bug. All good stuff here prefixed with Tonga... Bad things are prefixed with Samoa or Fiji...
Gosh my leg itches and usually the mosquitoes go for my head, hands and feet?
I look and there is a group of red welts... perhaps 15. (The welts stay for about a week.)
After getting dressed and downing a Tongan breakfast I pull out the Peace Corps medical handbook. Yup, here it is - Bed Bugs.
I tell my host sister. She pretends not to understand. I explain that we need to clean everything from the sheets to the mats on the floor.
She empties the room, then flies in with the B52s and nukes the place with high powered bug spray (more on the spray in a subsequent blog).
The bedding smells of chemicals, but the bedbugs are gone. Hallelujah!
A week later I see her repeating the process with her (sort of) room. The bedbugs have claimed another victim.
FYI - I have learned the Tongan word for bedbug. It translates as Fiji Bug. All good stuff here prefixed with Tonga... Bad things are prefixed with Samoa or Fiji...
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