Boy - That bugs me!

We move to a new office this week. It is air conditioned. This is heaven here in The Kingdom.

We also have some interesting bugs. Yup bugs.

Meet our good friend the Rhinoceros Beetle. These guys are a local pest that eat coconut trees. In the past there has been a bounty on these guys, you turned in their wings for money. Now the coconut industry is, like most industries here in Tonga, mostly dead, so nobody cares about our big friends.

As you can see we have had a great time with this guy (the second one I've found so far at the new office.)

Emily - The blonde woman making eye contact with our new friend, works nearby. She is another PCV. Niki, the brunette woman is an Australian Youth Ambassador who works in my office. Emily named this guy 'Ed'. We know its a male from its horn.

You can also tell just how boring it is here in Tonga, especially at the end of the month. We are all broke. Today the group sits in the PC Office and shares slices of green moldy bread. With the runaway inflation here it is just a matter of time before we start to collect the beetles and have a BBQ. Who knows, maybe they taste like coconut! Whoops, there goes Niki eating Ed now!

I love the Feeling of Security

The slime around my feet is about an inch deep. It has been a couple of days since I nuked it with bleach, and the bathroom floor clearly needs to be attacked again. I just worked out at the Gym and stopped back at the campsite for a minimal amount of time to take a shower, such as it is.

I hear a strange racket outside. It is the landlady. They have moved out (the kids can't stand the neighborhood and they will be staying at the seminary where the invisible dad will be teaching.) I almost never see them, as I leave in the morning long before they wake, and I stay away from the campsite except to sleep.

I ask her if she can do anything about the drain in the bathroom. It has always been slow, but now is 100% stopped. Thus the biological petri dish that I shower in.

She promises to have her husband Muli stop by the next day to have a look. Muli is an allegedly important minister around here. His very name strikes culturally appropriate fear in the hearts of the Peace Corps office. I have never seen him. I do not expect that I ever will.

The next day the landlady stops by The Chamber (my workplace) to get her rent check. She informs me that she has fixed the drain! I am very excited. Back in The World I take 3 or 4 hot showers a day and the thought of even one piss poor cold shower without slime is a religious revelation.

The Hash group has a BBQ to go with our drinking and running (or walking) and I am a sweaty mess as I head back to the campsite early. It is only now dark as I pull my bike up to the door and unlock the deadbolt. I reach for the doorknob and - nothing.

The landlady has pushed in the button on the doorknob, locking it. The issue? No one has a key. There has been much discussion about having 'the Chinese man' come by to make keys, but after two months still no keys.

The mosquitoes are feasting on my sweaty carcass. There is no light. I am really dehydrated and am afraid I might faint if I don't get a drink soon. I think about going to the closest FaleKaloa and buying some beer or bottled water, then I remember that I am broke again. The Peace Corps living allowance is a joke. Ha Ha Ha

I try to call the secretary at the Chamber. She is the one that found the campsite and may know how to contact the landlord. No answer.

I wander next door. The neighbors are visiting from Sacramento. Like most Tongans in Nuku'alofa they are talking amongst themselves in English as I walk up in the dark. Nope - They have no contact info.

I know the landlady's brother lives on the next street. I feed their dog and the big black beast now feels possessive about my campsite. I am hopeful that this will decrease the chances of a burglary. Ha Ha Ha

The brother also has no contact info for his elusive sister. He hops into his van to drive to their new place. The plan is to get the key to their house. There is a common door between the house and my bedroom and it is ajar so he can then just walk in and open my from door.

Yes folks, the door between their house and my apartment is ajar. No working latch. No lock. Not even a doorknob. They hold it closed on their side with a piece of furniture.

I sit in front of the house in the dark. The mosquitoes are relentless. Every car that comes bouncing down the pothole filled road brings hope, but they all continue by.

Bump.

I think I hear a noise in the house. Can't be... after all I am standing out front at the gate and no one has passed me.

Click - Click Flicker

The light in front of my door is on. Creak. The door opens and out walks the brother's son.

"They didn't have a key either, so I just came in the back window," he informs me. I thank him and he is gone.

So now I know. If I get locked out just come in through the back window.

I feel so safe.

What's up with the Fish?

Friday (that was yesterday here) was a hectic day. Meetings with groups that have real impact on The Kingdom in both the short and long term. A very hectic day.

A bunch of PCV's (and Niki, The Chamber's Australian Youth Volunteer) have a lunch meeting with a group from MAFFF, the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, Fisheries and Females.) I added the female part, women are a special part of their mission. I am an hour late because of a last minute conflict.

We have been discussing ways we can help women in villages. This means improving nutrition, generating income at the market, stuff like that. My proposal revolves around enhancing the diversity of citrus cultivars within The Kingdom.

The best thing about these meetings, besides actually working on something that is worthwhile, is that they are always trying out their latest foods and concoctions on us. As PCVs we are professional beggars and will go anywhere for free food, especially if it is interesting.

The best thing I tried was, well, I guess the best name for it would be coconut grog. They had poured coconut water into a sealed plastic container on Sunday. Then it just sat. The CO2 produced, (sorry AlGore!) occasionally pops open the lid, but they just seal it again. The anaerobic bacteria naturally occurring here do the rest. (What do you mean naturally occurring bacteria? Not here in Tonga!)

I am the only one brave (or stupid) enough to give it a try. It has a bite, obviously a pretty good alcholhol content, plus a fair amount of acetic acid.

So now I know that if I am ever Lost on a deserted Island I can keep MaryAnn and Ginger drinking on Saturday night. (Remember - my nickname here in Tonga is John Locke.)

It has started to rain. And it is coming down pretty good. Although The Chamber is close we rangle a rare ride back to work.

As EC Coordinator for this Island I keep a close eye on lots of stuff, but mostly the weather. I know there are no tropical depressions at all right now in the South Pacific, so I'm not worried, but I do pull up the latest forecast by Tonga's Meteorological service and post it on the PCV only Internet bulletin board. It calls for some rain on Friday and Heavy rain on Saturday.

Well, the Tongans should have consulted with AlGore. We all know that he is the only man on the planet who can accurately predict the weather, and he did invent this Internet thing and it seems to work pretty good.

The rain get heavier and heavier. It is coming down cats and dogs and there is no break.

We are amazed that the local youth (Mormon HS vs Government H.S.) decide that this weather is appropriate for a major rumble, but they stage their 20 person fight in the middle of the main drag, in front of the Chamber, in the pouring rain. Stupid Kids. They eventually get hauled away in a police bus.

Niki leaves after 6. She has a windbreaker but it ain't gonna help in this weather. I stay till 8. I never go back to the campsite before that anyway (I'm not fond of my housing arrangements) so I may as well stay here.

The front yard of the Chamber is less than a foot deep, but flooded. I have to lock up the gates and look like a drowned cat before I hit the street. I head down towards the bypass road staying in the middle where the depth is least. As I approach the roundabout that is the largest intersection in the country I notice that it is flooded, then I am in it.

The water rushes. It is perhaps a foot deep here, but moving fast. It is dangerous. I boogie around the center and head out towards LongoLongo. The water slows but is now over the hubs of my bike. I can see no land. No land anywhere. Hundreds of acres of floodwaters. Water over the thresholds of the houses. It is flowing but more slowly.

I have to stand to generate enough power to keep moving. I use utility poles as a guide to stay on the road. I am at least slightly worried that if I stop the drag of the water will push me to the lagoon. I am not wearing swim trunks.

I make it though the really deep stuff. I am aware that the new mud flaps are probably helping me tremendously, but I'm a bit busy and can't check them out. Soon I'm down to normal flooding, under a foot deep and cycle the rest of the way. As I pass the local Chinese FaleKaloa I give a 'Yeee Haww' scream to a Tongan shopping there. (Remember, at these shops the customers stand outside and the items are passed to them through a rebar covered window.) He responds with a hearty 'Io' (Yes) and a big smile.

By the time I get into the house I can be no wetter. (You can guess how flooded MY yard was. This time the water was up onto the porches.) The inside of my backpack has a couple of inches of water, I don't know how it got in there.

I responds to a couple of messages on my phone from PCVs wondering if we are going to activate our emergency plan. I tell them 'no'. This is just a bunch of rain, not a cyclone or anything. But I do warn them about the flooding and suggest no travel.

Since I'm cold I cook up a big batch of pork curry with lots of frozen veggies, onions, a local red pepper and some Chinese hot sauce. It is real hot and warms my wet bones.

The next morning is sunny and I do laundry. My wet clothes are starting to stink. I recall that the water I was wading though is full of fresh sewage. (Both human and swine.)

Then off to the gym. I think about lubing my bike. I know bikes are not by nature amphibious and it will need oil. Wisely I decide to let it dry first.

I cycle to the gym. Lots of water where I live. I live in the official Tongan Mosquito Hatchery, so at least I know that my blood is enhancing the biodiversity of The Planet.

The whole area is flooded. The water is receding and was clearly several feet deep last night. Now only a foot or so.

But wait. What do I see in the middle of the road? A school of Mosquito fish. I cheer them on. I see several more schools as I approach the gym. I can't imagine where they came from. This is fresh (filthy, but fresh) water so they can't be from the sea? Perhaps they swam up from the mangrove swamps by the lagoon?

The locals tell me that this is the worst flood here since 1982. Wow.

Update - Sunday Feb 10 - Apparently this really was a big rain. From the local paper:

At 10 am today the Fua'amotu weather station measured a total of 289.2mm (11.3 inches) of rain in the 24 hrs from 10 am on Friday February 8 to 10am on February 9. The Nuku'alofa weather station recorded 250.5mm in the same period."This is the greatest rainfall we have ever had in the kingdom," said the duty forecaster 'Ofa Taumoepeau

You're kidding - Transportation 105???????

I'm walking at Hash last night. (Look up Hash House Harriers on Wikipedia to find out about this organization. Hash bills themselves as a running club with a drinking problem. Great way to network here.) So I am walking with a bunch of folks talking about the local housing crunch and business development and the airport... Usual stuff - when my shoe gets a flat tire. It is a surfing sandal. Pretty tough shoe, but it has died.

This morning I leave work about 09:30 and head off to Primas Department store to find a replacement. Primas is a full service department store, clothes, dry goods, bikes, pots and pans, linens, shoes, back packs, school supplies. Everything. All in a space smaller than a typical Wallgreens back in the States. Obviously not a huge selection and very narrow aisles.

I am looking forward to this. I usually have a terrible time with shoes in the States as I have big feet, US size 13.

But HERE the people are all huge. They have huge hands and feet. I know I will find a great selection.

I pick up a pair. Really cheap looking but it will work. It is a size 11. "Hi, do have this in a US size 13?" I ask. "No, is the immediate answer."

"What do you have in a 13?" I ask. "Nothing. It is finished."

They have not a single shoe or flip-flop larger than 11. After long discussion and many laughs (this is Tonga) we agree that they SHOULD have a good selection of large sizes, but they don't. I should keep checking. No one ever knows what is in the next container.

I go next door. It is a store somehow related to Primas, but they have slightly different inventory. Here sizes are metric or European or something. The largest they have on display is a 45. I can't put it on.

The service person goes upstairs and searches. She returns with a cheap black plastic pair of sandals, size 47. They look like they will last about a week. (I am tough on shoes, walking and biking everywhere. Locals walk very little.)

It is my only option, the shoes I have on are a total wreck and the right one keeps falling off. I take of my old ones and have them toss 'em. I wear the new ones to the register where I simply tell her $26.90 and lift my foot for her inspection.

So please keep your fingers crossed and say a brief lotu (prayer). At least this will give the strange tan lines on my feet a change of pace.

Transportation 104

I leave work early (about 3:30) and head over to the Peace Corps Office Complex. Bear, a member of my group has flown in from Haapai for a medical issue. He has a scratch on his leg that despite all the antibiotic ointment and band aids it has started to really go south.

I find him laying on the floor of the medical apartment. He is plugged into an IV. He relates that he is getting massive doses of IV antibiotics, plus taking horse pill sized doses of orals.

He is looking great, considering, and it is wonderful to visit with him. Several other PCVs wander by. Later we will go out and bring back some Chinese takeout for a group dinner. This is the height of excitement here in the Kingdom.

I mosey down to the office. I have a package. I'm expecting some books from Amazon, but instead I find a big box from my sister Jeanne.

Back up to the medical apartment where we dump the foam peanuts into a sheet and sort though for stuff. Lots of pens, some cologne, but the really good stuff was Bike Stuff.

I now have a real helmet that fits. We passed it around and everyone sniffed the new bike helmet smell. We so seldom see anything really new and clean here. Alexis tries it on and marvels at the fit. The PC issued helmets are too small for most, if not all, of the volunteers.

I also received some plastic mud flaps. I put those on last night. You can see them in the photos above. It is raining as I write, so it is likely that I will benefit from them today. In fact they will make a significant difference most days here.

I took the pictures above at breakfast. As you know I usually go to a spot on the ocean next to the Palace and eat some cheap bread rolls. (Yes, I know eating a bunch of white bread is unhealthy, but we are on college kid budgets and exist mostly on bread, ramin, and chicken franks.)

In one pic you can see a fishing boat that recently bit the dust in a storm. It has a rock through the bow. In the second you can see a rainbow as one of our frequent showers approaches. It rinsed me as soon as I started off to find shelter. Both pics have been enhanced by Piccasa, in reality it is really gray here in the morning. The sun is just starting to rise.

I sit across from the Police Station and read my Greenspan book as I wait for the coffee shop to open. I chat with a couple of New Zealand tourists. They are just in on the ferry from Eua and really need to find some coffee. The Eua boat departs for Tongatapu about 05:30 and they look bushed. This coffee shop opens at 07:30, the earliest in the Kingdom. Not much of an early morning rush here. Actually not much of a rush any time of day.

Not much else to post. Thursday (today here) is Hash. This is a group of folks who get together to either run or walk for a bit, then we drink beer and network. Networking is everything here, so I hope I can make it. It is a bit out of town and the other attendees all have access to cars. As long as the rain isn't too bad I should be able to make it on the newly updated bike.

Observations on the Upcoming Election

"So what do you think of George Bush?" This is the leading question I hear this morning from the owner of a local falekoloa (tiny corner store where you stand outside and they pass you stuff through a window, lots of them here.) It is a question I hear often.

I give the usual neutral response. 'He has good intentions. Probably time for a change.'

In general everything about the US is viewed favorably here. They wonder why so many Americans don't respect GWB. I just don't want to get into it.

'What about the election?' We have another long discussion. Tongans, and perhaps most of the world, are baffled by the US primary system. They keep expecting the election to be over. I explain that we are really just selecting the candidates to run in the election, and the real election won't happen until November.

'What about Obama?" People here like Obama, largely because of his color. They are skeptical that the US would elect a person of color. I tell them the truth: "People in the US really like him, but no one knows what he stands for yet."

"How about Hillary?" - I respond that she is not liked as a person but controls vast amounts of money and has many powerful friends.

I advise that there are major elections this week in the states. That should shake out who the eventual candidates might be.

Why is this curious? Because everyone here, at least in the capital, knows all about the US elections and the candidates BUT THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE TONGAN ELECTIONS.

We are scheduled to have two days of elections here. April 23 the Nobels elect their representatives to parliament. The next day the commoners elect theirs. This will be the first election since the 'Pro Democracy' Riots of 16/11 (Nov 16 2006).

My friend tries to pull me into a discussion of democracy. He is against it.

Again I give him the simple truth - 'That is an issue for Tongans to resolve.' I am sure not gonna get into the middle of that. The last thing needed is outsiders influencing the evolving politics here.

It will be an interesting time. There is no discussion of the elections on the radio and the few editorials I have seen are on web sites hosted outside the country. When someone calls in to a talk show on the radio and brings up politics he gets cut off immediately. Can you imagine local talk radio that isn't allowed to discuss politics?

There is a lot to discuss here. Suppression of the press (government lawsuits), allegations of corruption by Cabinet Ministers, confusion as to who IS the current Minister of Finance?, court cases against rioters, charges of sedition. You get the point - a lot going on to talk about.

Next time you wonder about how f'd up the US system is. And there is no doubt it is pretty confusing and messed up, remember that you are allowed to hear directly from the candidates as well as the biased or unbiased (your opinion) commentary from CNN, FOX, Rush Limbaugh, Michael Moore, Barbara Streisand, etc.

Be thankful. A large part of the rest of the world does not have the same privileges.

A Taxing Situation - Sorry includes a Rant

I sit at the cafe sipping my large flat white as I read Greenspan's new book. It is Monday here, Super Sunday back in The World.

I am soaked - road my bike into town in the pouring rain - and my ass and backpack are covered with wet sand thrown up by the bike's tires.

An Australian Youth Volunteer stops by. The Australian (Lars) is dry and clean. How the heck can this be?

"We have a car." he replies. Remember - all of the other aid groups trust their volunteers/employees and give them the ability to drive.

We discuss our weekends as he pays for his coffees. (Several coffees- a group of volunteers is sharing the car.) I relate that I worked for several days doing my US taxes. Most of the volunteers here have never made enough money to get into complex taxes so he marvels that it can take days to complete.

I have been attending meetings here to study Tonga's new tax laws that take effect February 1. We have new income tax rules (low rates - up to 20% - TOP$7500 excluded. No AMT.) Local businesses are struggling to understand the concepts, but in general the rules are good. We also have a completely new set of customs rates and regulations - again the rates are OK (still high) but the big plus is they are structured to help reduce corruption. Reducing corruption is critical here.

At the meeting I asked the question on everyone's mind. "Should we buy beer before or after the new tariffs on alcohol take effect?" The expert claims the rules will be neutral. We'll see in the next few weeks if he is correct, I did not stock up.

I think back over the past few days, and the past few years. Many of you know that a large part of my decision to retire was based on the huge amount amount of taxes I was paying. In the end I decided that it was just plain stupid to work anymore. The government wanted me to retire.

Well now I am a poor leach on society and it feels great. I can deduct property tax! I can deduct charitable contributions! I can get a personal deduction for myself and my daughter! (None of these apply to the evil capitalist pig-dog successful businessman in the US). And to top it all off - as a Peace Corps Volunteer I am being paid by the US Taxpayer!

Not only that, they are raining money on me! I can use the HOPE eduction credit (I actually only use some - I can't generate enough liability to use it all.) Capital gains - ignore them - I have carryforward losses. I have a huge AMT carryforward credit (again, I don't use a penny of it, no need.) It is ridiculous. I fully expect not to pay a penny in federal income tax for the foreseeable future. Isn't it wonderful to no longer contribute to the economy?

With all this practice filling out forms I am ready for the Peace Corps Trimester Report. A megabyte of Excel document with 14 tabs devoted to collecting the massive impact that Peace Corps Volunteers are having on Tongan Society. Too bad Intuit hasn't come up with an online product to help fill out this sucker!