My 1st day in a new town. I don't know anybody and don't know my way around.
I find the paved road and just wander down it greeting the local Tongans as I go. The women here weave mats in groups all day. This replaces the tapping of Tapa I knew in Tongatapu.
A twenty something, also named Sione comes out to say hi. He moved here from San Francisco to take care of his folks. He has a big clean house. and i soon find he has COLD water and a fridge!
He decides that I must see the beach. We walk for 30 minutes down a tough path to a steep hill. Down to the ocean we go where we cool our feet. I see my first sea snake and a big blue starfish.
Sione loves to talk. I listen to him talk about his business prospects. He plans to become a long-line fisherman. He has a boat coming from Samoa. He has them cover the decks with used tires, size 13, 14 and 15. He will sell them from his front yard.
He points to the base of a nearby cliff.
"I don't know if you can still find bones there, but there used to be bone there."
It turns out that in the 60s a man names Rupa lived atop the cliff. He would capture women who clammed in the remote area and eat them. Sione claimed that everyone knew he was a canibal, but that it took a while for the missionaries to get out here.
Good ghost story for halloween.
Friday, October 26, 2007
We prepare a Puaka
It is little Saia's birthday. He is one. And within the extended family we have four Peace Corps trainees who are about to leave their home stay families and go to Va'vau for more training. In Tonga this means it is time for a feast.
Fae (my host dad) gets me up at 6am Sunday morning. My roommate is a vegetarian and will sleep until 10.
At his dad's (also Saia) there is a small caged area. Saia throws in some niu (coconut) and opens a trap door. Three good sized black piglets run in and the door is lowered behind them.
Fae sharpens the knife. Satisfied, he asks me to hold it as he climbs over the fence.
The three little pigs are terrified. They must know what is up, because they are screaming for their lives. Saia instructs Fae to select the boy pig in the middle.
Fae deftly grabs its snout and hind legs. He is quickly over the fence and holding the pig on the ground. I give Saia the knife. Saia feels the pig's sternum like an EMS about to do CPR. In plunges the blade - into the heart.
The pigs gives up three of four slow breaths. Blood gushes onto the grass with each. The pig will continue to kick for a few minutes, but there is no doubt it is dead.
The dogs are going nuts. They just want to smell the blood and enjoy the event. A little boy beats the dogs with a stick until they yelp.
A fire has been burning nearby. It heats a large pot of water.
Fae dips the pig in the water for a few seconds, then rips aways fistful of black hair. In five minutes we have a glistening white carcass. The skin stays on - it is "the best part". The whiskers and eyebrows are shaved with a disposable razor.
The innards are carefully removed. The liver, heart and lungs will be preserved but the rest disappears into the dogs.
We have two umus today, plus the pig roasted over a separate fire, plus a bunch or fried fish, fried chicken and all kinds of other stuff. Sooooo much food!
I have some pictures, but uploading is a challenge here. I'll try to upload some in the future.
Please comment!
Fae (my host dad) gets me up at 6am Sunday morning. My roommate is a vegetarian and will sleep until 10.
At his dad's (also Saia) there is a small caged area. Saia throws in some niu (coconut) and opens a trap door. Three good sized black piglets run in and the door is lowered behind them.
Fae sharpens the knife. Satisfied, he asks me to hold it as he climbs over the fence.
The three little pigs are terrified. They must know what is up, because they are screaming for their lives. Saia instructs Fae to select the boy pig in the middle.
Fae deftly grabs its snout and hind legs. He is quickly over the fence and holding the pig on the ground. I give Saia the knife. Saia feels the pig's sternum like an EMS about to do CPR. In plunges the blade - into the heart.
The pigs gives up three of four slow breaths. Blood gushes onto the grass with each. The pig will continue to kick for a few minutes, but there is no doubt it is dead.
The dogs are going nuts. They just want to smell the blood and enjoy the event. A little boy beats the dogs with a stick until they yelp.
A fire has been burning nearby. It heats a large pot of water.
Fae dips the pig in the water for a few seconds, then rips aways fistful of black hair. In five minutes we have a glistening white carcass. The skin stays on - it is "the best part". The whiskers and eyebrows are shaved with a disposable razor.
The innards are carefully removed. The liver, heart and lungs will be preserved but the rest disappears into the dogs.
We have two umus today, plus the pig roasted over a separate fire, plus a bunch or fried fish, fried chicken and all kinds of other stuff. Sooooo much food!
I have some pictures, but uploading is a challenge here. I'll try to upload some in the future.
Please comment!
THE boat ride
I was uncomfortable with the concept of a day long ferry trip from Tongatapu to Va'vau. We had all heard stories of decks awash in vomit. I know I get seasick easily and was expecting the trip from hell.
My host family from Fu'amoto met us at the warf to see me off. I got the usual lei and it was sad to leave them. The Peace Corps issued each of us a life jacket. One more thing to drag around with us, but it felt good to know it was there. I saw life boats on the ferry, but no life jackets.
The ferry is small and old. It looks scary. It does NOT look like it can go hundreds of miles across open ocean.
Most of us rushed onboard and secured a room on the "promenade deck". We had mats and the PC brought food. Our nurse gave us some kick butt meds. They prevent seasickness and make you sleep.
To make a long story short... The waves out there are huge and crash over the deck. The boat makes noises that a boat should not make. Groans and the crashing of loose hatches. One of the trainees gets his IPod stolen. Maried couple get yells at for sleeping near each other. They are stepped on and told to pray.
In the middle of the night the engines stop. A tiny boat pulls up and we pick up a family. We did this at least twice. In the middle of the ocean. BIG Waves. - Absolutely crazy!
The bathrooms are disgusting. The PC warns us not to eat and drink so we won't need to use them. They are below, and the decks down there are awash in putrid water that washes over my feet.
While sleeping packed (like the proverbial sardines) on the deck we all slide with the swells. I am on my back. Slide to pile up to port. Then slide to starboard. My tailbone hurt for days. And try to walk? The boat is pitching like a cork!
Well - we made it in one piece. Some people actually want to do it again.
As more me, I'm happy we plan to fly back to Tongatapu in 6 weeks.
My host family from Fu'amoto met us at the warf to see me off. I got the usual lei and it was sad to leave them. The Peace Corps issued each of us a life jacket. One more thing to drag around with us, but it felt good to know it was there. I saw life boats on the ferry, but no life jackets.
The ferry is small and old. It looks scary. It does NOT look like it can go hundreds of miles across open ocean.
Most of us rushed onboard and secured a room on the "promenade deck". We had mats and the PC brought food. Our nurse gave us some kick butt meds. They prevent seasickness and make you sleep.
To make a long story short... The waves out there are huge and crash over the deck. The boat makes noises that a boat should not make. Groans and the crashing of loose hatches. One of the trainees gets his IPod stolen. Maried couple get yells at for sleeping near each other. They are stepped on and told to pray.
In the middle of the night the engines stop. A tiny boat pulls up and we pick up a family. We did this at least twice. In the middle of the ocean. BIG Waves. - Absolutely crazy!
The bathrooms are disgusting. The PC warns us not to eat and drink so we won't need to use them. They are below, and the decks down there are awash in putrid water that washes over my feet.
While sleeping packed (like the proverbial sardines) on the deck we all slide with the swells. I am on my back. Slide to pile up to port. Then slide to starboard. My tailbone hurt for days. And try to walk? The boat is pitching like a cork!
Well - we made it in one piece. Some people actually want to do it again.
As more me, I'm happy we plan to fly back to Tongatapu in 6 weeks.
Quick Update from Va'Vau
Well I made it into town and to the Internet cafe. I'll give a quick update, then as time permits I'll try to do a post on the boat trip here, and my experience killing and preparing a puaka (pig). I also have a good story about a serial killer and canibal from the 60's who lived near where I am staying.
I was sick for a couple of weeks. It started as an infection on my leg. Not like anything we get at home. That is healing well.
When I went off the antibiotics I no longer had all the good critters living in my gut that helped protect me from the nasties, so I had some intestinal challenges.
That is all behind me now and I'm trying to catch up on language.
Trainees are spread over three villages. I am in Ta'anea.
It is very rustic. No real roads near my house, just mud paths. Much more to my expectations of a Peace Corps experience. It's still not too challenging. We often have running water (today was my first morning I could take a shower without a bucket.) No sinks. I stand in the back yard and shave and brush my teeth.
The older members of my host family speak little or no English. I am at the point I can tell them where I am going and thank them for all they do. They really want to please and try to find my favorite foods and make sure I am taken care of. I have an electric fan at night and this is my greatest luxury.
Still no fridge here. They do have an old style drum washing machine.
We have the usual papayas and have added mangos and pineapples.
It is always in the 80s with 100% humidity. The trainees are learning to move slower and we always have a gleam of sweat on our skin.
It was tough adjusting for a few days, but after getting together for classes yesterday we cheared everybody up. I figure in a week we'll be adjusted to the new environment and perfectly at home again. The biggest challenge is all the rain and mud.
BTW - My sister Ann gave me a wind up flashlight radio thing. I use it all the time as the restroom and showers are outside and there are no lights. I am a bit paranoid about the giant centepedes they have here. About the same as the ones we had in Austin - nasty.
They split us into language groups by level. My new group is slower and I kept my teacher. 'Ofa is the best language teacher. IMHO She is older and has the patience of Job.
Please feel free to add comments to the blog. I's love to hear what those of you back in the world think about all this!
I was sick for a couple of weeks. It started as an infection on my leg. Not like anything we get at home. That is healing well.
When I went off the antibiotics I no longer had all the good critters living in my gut that helped protect me from the nasties, so I had some intestinal challenges.
That is all behind me now and I'm trying to catch up on language.
Trainees are spread over three villages. I am in Ta'anea.
It is very rustic. No real roads near my house, just mud paths. Much more to my expectations of a Peace Corps experience. It's still not too challenging. We often have running water (today was my first morning I could take a shower without a bucket.) No sinks. I stand in the back yard and shave and brush my teeth.
The older members of my host family speak little or no English. I am at the point I can tell them where I am going and thank them for all they do. They really want to please and try to find my favorite foods and make sure I am taken care of. I have an electric fan at night and this is my greatest luxury.
Still no fridge here. They do have an old style drum washing machine.
We have the usual papayas and have added mangos and pineapples.
It is always in the 80s with 100% humidity. The trainees are learning to move slower and we always have a gleam of sweat on our skin.
It was tough adjusting for a few days, but after getting together for classes yesterday we cheared everybody up. I figure in a week we'll be adjusted to the new environment and perfectly at home again. The biggest challenge is all the rain and mud.
BTW - My sister Ann gave me a wind up flashlight radio thing. I use it all the time as the restroom and showers are outside and there are no lights. I am a bit paranoid about the giant centepedes they have here. About the same as the ones we had in Austin - nasty.
They split us into language groups by level. My new group is slower and I kept my teacher. 'Ofa is the best language teacher. IMHO She is older and has the patience of Job.
Please feel free to add comments to the blog. I's love to hear what those of you back in the world think about all this!
Monday, October 15, 2007
The weather must have changed
The Weather must have changed. – Getting sick in Tonga. October 16 2007
Gosh I feel tired. Yes, I had been running around like crazy trying to absorb as much of the local culture as possible, but this didn’t feel right. Saturday I dug out my copy of the Shumway language book. I am struggling with the language and need all the study time I can get.
None of it sunk in. I am bad at this stuff, but usually a little sticks.
Then came the Kai Kuli. Then a trainee party on the beach. Then another Kava. At Kava I noticed a dime sized sore on my calf. It wass noticeable, not only to the other men, but also to the local flies. All in all a pretty long day.
By Sunday, I had crashed and burned. I took my temperature and confirmed a 101 fever. Hot for me.
After church with the family, my host dad drove me to the Peace Corps trainer’s house. There I got some Tylenol for the fever and stuff to clean and bandage the wound.
Monday morning I met with the local medical officer. She is a high-powered nurse. Just a couple of questions and she tied together the sore and the fever. I had a nasty infection.
So now I’m on antibiotics and keeping the darn thing clean. Several of us have infections from very minor cuts. A blister on one trainee has turned his foot red and swelled it up. Another trainee got smashed into the reef, but sought immediate treatment and has so far avoided infection.
Others have had the usual maladies one would expect when traveling to another country. Basically colds, flu-like bugs etc. Happily, we have all avoided diarrhea, the one thing we expected.
Here in Tonga there seems to be no concept of germs or infection. If youare sick it is usually "because the weather changed". It may also be because of bad behavior or a devil.
My host family treats their children with Tongan medicine. Currently both kids are sick and are being treated with a crushed red bark from a tree that grows near the beach. It doesn't seem to work too well. The kids are up all night crying.
BTW - There was a political demonstration in town today. All reports are that it was peaceful and none of us is stressed about it.
Gosh I feel tired. Yes, I had been running around like crazy trying to absorb as much of the local culture as possible, but this didn’t feel right. Saturday I dug out my copy of the Shumway language book. I am struggling with the language and need all the study time I can get.
None of it sunk in. I am bad at this stuff, but usually a little sticks.
Then came the Kai Kuli. Then a trainee party on the beach. Then another Kava. At Kava I noticed a dime sized sore on my calf. It wass noticeable, not only to the other men, but also to the local flies. All in all a pretty long day.
By Sunday, I had crashed and burned. I took my temperature and confirmed a 101 fever. Hot for me.
After church with the family, my host dad drove me to the Peace Corps trainer’s house. There I got some Tylenol for the fever and stuff to clean and bandage the wound.
Monday morning I met with the local medical officer. She is a high-powered nurse. Just a couple of questions and she tied together the sore and the fever. I had a nasty infection.
So now I’m on antibiotics and keeping the darn thing clean. Several of us have infections from very minor cuts. A blister on one trainee has turned his foot red and swelled it up. Another trainee got smashed into the reef, but sought immediate treatment and has so far avoided infection.
Others have had the usual maladies one would expect when traveling to another country. Basically colds, flu-like bugs etc. Happily, we have all avoided diarrhea, the one thing we expected.
Here in Tonga there seems to be no concept of germs or infection. If youare sick it is usually "because the weather changed". It may also be because of bad behavior or a devil.
My host family treats their children with Tongan medicine. Currently both kids are sick and are being treated with a crushed red bark from a tree that grows near the beach. It doesn't seem to work too well. The kids are up all night crying.
BTW - There was a political demonstration in town today. All reports are that it was peaceful and none of us is stressed about it.
Kai Kule - Eating my first dog. Oct 13 2007
Kai Kule – Eating my first dog. October 13 2007
Don’t come over for lunch, the dog we planned to eat has run off. We are looking for it.”
Mau, the talking chief of the village has arranged for me to “Kai kuli” or eat dog. His cousin has been fattening one up and today was the day.
Disappointed I ate lunch with my host family.
It was a few hours later that Mau called back. “They found the dog!”
My host mom, Sila bounced us over the unpaved road to Mau’s cousin in the four-wheel drive van. We could already smell roasting flesh rising from a hole dug in the back yard. A traditional Tongan umu, it’s fire fueled by coconut husks. All that remained were the coals and red-hot rocks heated by the fire.
A heap of steaming intestines lay on a banana leaf before dogs and pigs devoured them. The hide was already gone, only patches of dark hair remain. A bag made fro a leave held the chopped up heart, which along with the head went into the umu.
A layer of sticks supported another layer of leaves and an old carpet. Once the carpet covered the hole, one of the men shoveled dirt over it to complete the umu.
After a short trip to the beach we returned to the house. The men opened the umu releasing the greasy smell of roast meat. Banana leaves tossed into the yard served a our picnic table as the sizzling carcass was picked up with sticks and dropped in our midst. A few quick hacks with a knife to dismember the dog, a few shakes of salt into piles on the leaves and we were ready to eat.
A prayer in Tongan and everyone started to rip into the food with their bare hands. My host mother, Sila, announced that it was a “greasy dog”. I had just taught her the English word a few hours earlier.
It took only a few minutes and the ribs lay bare. One of the men ripped open the leaf bag and we all reached in to try the pieces of heart.
Grease covered my hands and face. Beneath my nails dog sat dog meat. No – there are no napkins here…
This was a great chance to share a cultural experience with some of the men of the village. I now have Mau’s phone number and am comfortable sitting next to him at the Kava circle. I am learning to network in Tonga.
Don’t come over for lunch, the dog we planned to eat has run off. We are looking for it.”
Mau, the talking chief of the village has arranged for me to “Kai kuli” or eat dog. His cousin has been fattening one up and today was the day.
Disappointed I ate lunch with my host family.
It was a few hours later that Mau called back. “They found the dog!”
My host mom, Sila bounced us over the unpaved road to Mau’s cousin in the four-wheel drive van. We could already smell roasting flesh rising from a hole dug in the back yard. A traditional Tongan umu, it’s fire fueled by coconut husks. All that remained were the coals and red-hot rocks heated by the fire.
A heap of steaming intestines lay on a banana leaf before dogs and pigs devoured them. The hide was already gone, only patches of dark hair remain. A bag made fro a leave held the chopped up heart, which along with the head went into the umu.
A layer of sticks supported another layer of leaves and an old carpet. Once the carpet covered the hole, one of the men shoveled dirt over it to complete the umu.
After a short trip to the beach we returned to the house. The men opened the umu releasing the greasy smell of roast meat. Banana leaves tossed into the yard served a our picnic table as the sizzling carcass was picked up with sticks and dropped in our midst. A few quick hacks with a knife to dismember the dog, a few shakes of salt into piles on the leaves and we were ready to eat.
A prayer in Tongan and everyone started to rip into the food with their bare hands. My host mother, Sila, announced that it was a “greasy dog”. I had just taught her the English word a few hours earlier.
It took only a few minutes and the ribs lay bare. One of the men ripped open the leaf bag and we all reached in to try the pieces of heart.
Grease covered my hands and face. Beneath my nails dog sat dog meat. No – there are no napkins here…
This was a great chance to share a cultural experience with some of the men of the village. I now have Mau’s phone number and am comfortable sitting next to him at the Kava circle. I am learning to network in Tonga.
First Post
Hi Ya'll.
I just decided to try blogging about my experience as a Peace Corps trainee and volunteer in the wonderful Kingdom of Tonga. I hope you like it.
I just decided to try blogging about my experience as a Peace Corps trainee and volunteer in the wonderful Kingdom of Tonga. I hope you like it.
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