A True Tongan Diet

In the course of this blog, I try show how my life in Tonga really is. My opinions are of course subjective, but in terms of the events I attend and my observations of the people and culture, I try to be as accurate as possible without bringing any preconceived notions or bias into my thoughts and writings.

The previous statement therefore leads me to this next one. The next few paragraphs are of a somewhat graphic nature. If you are squeamish or a particularly passionate lover of dogs, you may want to skip reading the next few paragraphs. If you choose to skip it, just scroll down to where it says, “It’s Over,” in large bold letters and you are then safe to read on. For the rest of you, I apologize if this upsets you, but this is simply the way of life in Tonga and I wanted to portray it accurately.

Tongans eat dogs. It is not a main staple of their diets in the same way lu, pigs, chickens, beef, and root crops are, but it is certainly a part of it. In the past, before Tongans had access to as much food and meat as they do now, dog, and even bat, was eaten frequently. Now, if a dog is hit by a car and dies, if a dog attacks anyone, if there are too many dogs in the village, or simply if a person want to eat a dog, dog is eaten.

Volunteers in the past, and in my group, have tasted dog while they have been in Tonga. Though I want to be adventurous and try new things, I really have no interest in eating dog. In more sad situations, Tongan villagers have eaten the dogs that were the pets of volunteers in the past, not realizing how important dogs are to Americans. As I mentioned in a previous post, dogs are not treated well in Tonga and are not considered pets.

I have never seen dog served on a Tongan plate nor have I ever been offered dog. I only bring up this topic now for an event that occurred last week.

Last week, in the middle of the day, I was reading in my house when I saw a Tongan villager I know walk past my house about ten feet away from my back door. I stood up to say hello to Saia, who his around 15, but stopped short when I realized he was dragging a dead dog behind him as if it was a pile of sticks. The dog’s throat was sliced – I could tell by the dried blood – in the same way a pig’s throat is cut when it is slaughtered to eat.

Silently, I went to my back door and watched where Saia was taking the dog. He dragged the dog another 50 yards and brought it to my neighbor’s house. I am sure I was watching dinner being served at the same house I attended a lunch last week, though I am fairly certain I did not eat dog as they would have told me before and the only meat I consumed was chicken…or at least, I hope it was chicken.

To be honest, after watching the event I was a little sad. While I am no great dog-lover, especially for the vicious dogs in Tonga, it was still difficult to watch an animal I have long viewed as man’s best friend so callously dragged around and served for dinner. I did not dwell on it long, as that would serve no purpose, but I thought it was important to relate this anecdote in my blog as it depicts how life in Tonga, though normal by standards in many other countries, is so different than the US. As I mentioned earlier, I hope this did not upset you.

IT’S OVER

As for me I have spent the past week in the main island of Tongatapu for a week of Peace Corps training. I do not have much to report that I think will excite you, my readers. I went to see my host family on Sunday, which was amazing. It was great to see the family that took such incredible care of me and treats me like a son. My host sister was not there, but I made arrangements to stay overnight with my family when I fly through Tonga on my way to see my parents in April so I am really excited about that.

It has also been great to see other volunteers in the group and just compare how similar and different our experiences are over the past week. The wheel was not reinvented, but just speaking English consistently was like a gift in its self.

I know I promised photos for the week but I had forgotten that I really do not like taking photos at group events. Eventually there will be some photos of me again on this blog, but I hope for now the contents of this post and possible future topics of the lack of beaches, adoption, the ocean, my life, and of course my many embarrassing moments can keep you satisfied.

To make your wait slightly less unbearable, I believe it is time that I finally relate to you the Great Onion Famine of 2012.

The Great Onion Famine of 2012 was a terrible event. For 3 weeks in Tonga, around the last week in November and the first two weeks of December, the onions disappeared. Before the eventual collapse of Tonga’s profitable onion industry, rumblings could be heard of future onion scarcity. Onions were going out, but none were coming in.

Tongans, never to be confused with ferocious vegetable consumers, do particularly like to use onions in their lu and when they cook meet. The Palangi population was similarly overwhelmed, as those of us in Tonga have quickly learned, cooked onions make even the most spice less and flavorless Tongan food taste slightly more appealing.

Tongans, expats, and volunteers flocked to the markets and stores buying every onion they could find. I luckily bought a few and threw them in my fridge. To digress for a moment, I have formed a tacit agreement with my food in Tonga – I will protect if from the ants, cockroaches, termites, lizards, pigs, the weather, small children, etc and be willing to cut off the parts that are rotten and eat greedily away, if the food just pretends not to discolor or smell as it rots. So far the agreement has been quite successful, leading to greater personal consumption and minimal stomach complaints.

Returning to the subject at hand, the last vestiges of onions quickly disappeared  -and the results were dramatic. The lu tasted worse. The one restaurant in town that had onion rings no longer had onion rings. I could no longer make spaghetti and tomato sauce – one of the four things I now know how to make and is scarily large staple of my diet.

At first I though this was only a Vava’u problem and that help was on the way. I texted my friend Michael to ask him about the onions in Tongatapu. There were none. Help was not coming.

I then texted my friend Chiara in the island of Eua, an island near Tongatapu that is far cooler than the rest of Tonga. I figured Chiara, a vegetarian, and someone who faced humiliation, lack of understanding, possible starvation, and a frightfully boring pallet for refusing to lose her vegetarian ways in meat-filled Tonga, of anyone I knew, would know how to find the onions. Nope. There were no onions in Eua, she had no clue what was going on, and she was even more concerned than I was.

I was now curious – and by curious I mean confused, angry, and kind of hungry - swirling with thoughts stemming mostly from an empty stomach. Knowing nothing about gardening myself, I asked a Tongan where the onions came from. No one really knew, which was not surprising as Tongans don’t really think of where things come from – they’re just happy it’s there - but the general consensus was that Tonga was too warm to grow onions and that they were probably imported from New Zealand.

My next thought was ok. Sadly, yes, that was my first thought. Resignation was fast at hand. I quickly snapped out of it, however, and decided to discover how a country could be out of onions. I asked around, again, and discovered the following truth (caution, I am using the word truth quite liberally, I have absolutely zero proof what I am about to write is accurate and Tongans love to lie, but I find this story plausible, oddly comforting, and very Tongan):

Apparently, the onions arrive from New Zealand in a large shipping container and are removed in Nuku’alofa. The container is taken off the ship at the wharf and then some onions are sent to the markets of Tongatapu, while the rest are sent to the other islands, including Vava’u.

The person in charge of unloading the onions, however, was sick when the shipment of onions came in but failed to notify anyone that he was not coming to work or ask anyone to replace him. This being Tonga, nothing was done, no safety nets were in place, and no one thought to ask why has the container just been sitting there for several days? The onions sat in the blazing hot sun for several days until the man returned from his illness to a container of rotten onions.

Thus one man, one individual person, caused the entire Kingdom of Tonga to survive without onions for several weeks and lead to your faithful writer’s growling stomach and his quest for the truth. That my readers is the sad Tale of the Great Onion Famine of 2012, may it never occur again.

Thanks for reading!

Oh Yeah….I’m in the South Pacific

Living on a tiny island in the South Pacific I am vulnerable to the frequent and sudden changes of weather that occur. It can be sunny one minute, thundering and lightning the next, slightly overcast a moment later, and back to sunny again all in the span of an hour. I mention this only because I was hoping to regale you in this post with my adventure of camping out on an island this past weekend, with pictures to match, but unfortunately the weather made this impossible.

Though as I type this post the weather is sunny and beautiful, it rained so much this morning that the ground is muddy and swamp-like, making camping impossible. You will thus have to make due once again without pictures – Sorry! – and with the less aesthetically pleasing anecdotes below.

But with the dexterity of a pinch hitter called to the plate in a moments notice, I have tried to do my readers justice with this alternate post below. First I have some Tongan news to relate and then I will relay my semi-expat American need for football.

In Tongan news I gave another fakamalo, thank you speech, on Friday. Uhila, the same man who asked me to give a fakamalo when he invited me to his house for a New Years feast last week, convinced me again to give a fakamalo in the hall.

The only difference, however, was instead of giving a fakamalo to 15 people, I had to make a speech to the entire village along with visitors from the main island of Tongatapu, other towns in Vava’u, New Zealand, and Australia. So…about 100 people all together.

To be perfectly honest, if I had to give an off the cuff speech in English in America to my family and friends I would probably be pretty nervous. To give a speech in a foreign language that I barely know to a village I have only lived in for two months was certainly daunting. To make things even more difficult, Tongans are not what you would call tacit listeners. Whenever they hear something they like or agree with, whether it is at the beginning, middle, or end of the sentence, Tongans shout out one of several words – io, yes, malo, thanks, and monu’ia, blessings or praise. My personal favorite, however, is mo’oni, which literally means the truth.

When making a speech in English, a good speaker expects some laughs, if the joke is decent enough, and a smattering of applause at key moments. Imagine giving a speech in America where instead of clapping, people in the audience would shout, “The Truth!,” at random moments. That being said, I luckily saw the fakamalo coming and am well acquainted with the Tongan responses to speeches, so when I rose from my chair and began to speak I at least had some idea of what I wanted to say.

Since I believe some of you might be curious or enjoy knowing what the actual speech looks like in Tongan, here it is:

“Oku ou lea fakamalo. Malo feifekau. Malo Ha’akio. Malo ‘aupito ho’omou tokoni. Malo aupito mau me’akai ifo aupito. Oku ou fiefia ‘aupito ke nofo i Ha’akio. Ko hoku famili palangi oku nofo i Amelika ka oku ou fakakaukau ko hoku famili Tonga oku Ha’akio (this received a sea of mo’onis and maybe a river of malos). Oku ou fiefia ‘aupito ke faiako i GPS Houma. Ko kauleka i Ha’akio oku poto ‘aupito. Fakamolemole. Oku ou lea faka-Tonga kovi aupito ka te u ako. Malo aupito.

This translates too:

I say a speech of thanks. Thank you minister. Thank you Ha’akio. Thank you for your help. Thank you for giving me delicious food. I am very happy to live in Ha’akio. My American family lives in America, but I think my Tongan family is Ha’akio. I am very happy to teach in GPS Houma. The kids in Ha’akio are very smart. Sorry. I speak very bad Tongan but I will study. Thank you very much.

I was happily, and somewhat surprisingly I must admit, able to make this speech with only a few pauses and in a loud, clear voice. The Tongans greatly appreciated my attempt, and rewarded my efforts with a round of applause and several handshakes when I returned to my seat. It was, without a doubt, my single greatest feeling of accomplishment since I arrived in Tonga, as I have yet to start teaching, and I felt fulfilled that I made an attempt that seemed so unfeasible just a few months ago.

In other Tongan news, I attended a dance (or disco as they say in Tonga) on Friday. I do not think I have mentioned how ridiculous dances are in Tonga. With the exception of Tongans between the ages of 15 to 20 who are at the perfect age for embarrassment, everyone dances unabashedly. The kids are ridiculous. Jumping up and down and having the time of their lives. The married women are even more hilarious, as they dance with the same incredible spirit as the kids only with much larger bodies. Even the men get into the fray if they like the particular song.

The best comparison I could make is imagine being at a Bar Mitzvah, where the only music playing is a combination of techno, hip-hop, and island music, and everyone dances (women and children especially) with the same enthusiasm and dance moves of the ten year old younger siblings going crazy in the middle of the dance floor. To put it in perspective, and this should be a great image for those of you who have seen my horrible dancing, I am considered a good dancer in Tonga – yes, I know, I was shocked too.

It was ridiculous and a lot of fun. I couldn’t stop laughing with the Tongans and dancing with the kids. I am also pretty sure now that my ten year old neighbor has a crush on me as she told I looked very handsome and quickly interceded whenever a small child, be it male or female, tried to pull me from my chair to dance. As you can see, discos in Tonga are certainly an interesting experience.

Now in semi-American expat news, I am uploading this post from a restaurant in town while I am watching the Colts play the Ravens, and later the Seahawks play the Redskins. I walked into town early (arriving here at 7 a.m.) to watch the playoffs as I sadly learned that the Super Bowl is scheduled on my very first day of school, so seeing the game is unfortunately out of the question, and I had to watch at least one playoff game while I was here.

 As these are only the second and third nfl games I have been able to watch this year – the other game unfortunately being the Chiefs vs. the Chargers, which every nfl fan knows, watching either of those teams alone this year, let alone them facing off against each other, is a punishment you would not wish on your worst enemy – I am extremely happy to partake in an entertainment that filled up so much of my pre-Tonga life.

As always, thank you for reading. I will do my best to actually put up some photos with me in them in the near future. Next week all of the volunteers are flying to the main island of Tongatapu for a week of extra training before school starts, and I will try to capture some of the Group 77 touching reunion moments and have then in my next post. Have a great week!

The sunset in Vava'u

The view from my bike ride through the Western side of the island

A Very Tongan New Year

Life is funny. If you had told me a year ago that when the clock first struck 12 and 2013 was ushered in that I would welcome the New Year in a Wesleyan church in a rural village in Vava’u, Tonga, well considering that I had never heard of Tonga and I did not go to church, I would have had a very hard time believing you. A year ago, with graduation just a few months away, I did not know where I was going to be, but certainly the last place I thought to find myself was the South Pacific.

I did not expect to find anything special on December 31^st. I knew that the first week in January is called uike lotu in Tonga (literally the week of prayer or church) and that every day there are two church services, at 5 a.m and p.m., with accompanying feasts to follow the afternoon service. I was not told to expect anything out of the ordinary on New Years Eve, so I did not put any special thought or look forward to the approaching celebration, as I would have if I were home in the U.S.

The day started as my Mondays almost always do. I woke up, read a little, lesson planned a little more than a little, then made my weekly phone calls back to U.S. that I do every Monday. In between the reading and lesson planning I bought some bread at the shop in the village, and the man who owns it told me there was a feast in the afternoon but no church service. He didn’t know what time, just that the bells would ring when the feast was ready, and I was very happy to be rewarded with a feast without going to church first.

In the middle of my first call a Tongan that I know a little bit came over to my house with a sheet of paper. The paper had a list of names that I assumed were names meant to be invited to the feast, and though I had never seen or heard of an invitation in Tonga before, I didn’t think anything of it and he told me to come around 1.

During my second call, another man named Ono came over to pick me up, and I hurriedly promised to call back later, told Ono I would meet him there, and quickly changed into my tupenu and ta’ovala. I was a little late, but time is not as carefully kept here as it is in America so I figured I could sneak into the hall, where all the feasts are held, without being rude. I quickly ran over to the hall only to find in entirely empty.

Confused, I aimlessly looked around trying to figure out where else the entire village could possibly be except for the hall. Out of nowhere, a Tongan then emerged out of the bush and directed me to a house at the end of village. Inside were several Tongans families, including Ono, that I knew and some I didn’t. I was quickly ushered inside and sat down next to the patriarch of the family, which is considered a great honor.

I was shocked at what I saw. The food spread out before me was delicious and plentiful but I had seen feasts like that before. What struck me instead was how beautifully the table was set. There was a very fine tablecloth underneath everything. The plates were not fine China, but certainly were by Tongan standards. There were silver forks, knives, and spoons that people actually used and napkins that were actually cloth and again, and shockingly, actually used. It was like I had been transported, besides the Tongan language, back home.

After a prayer, the entire table began to eat and people started to give the requisite fakamalo, speeches, that are present at every feast. After several Tongans had spoken, Uhila the patriarch, who I know speaks English, asked me in Tongan to give a fakamalo. Nervous and unprepared, I stumbled out of my chair with the hope of not embarrassing myself too much and gave a fakamalo in Tongan. What I said was nothing fancy, and it went something along the lines of “Thank you very much. I am happy to live in Ha’akio and to be at this feast. The food is plentiful and delicious. Ha’akio is great and thank you for inviting me. I apologize for my bad Tongan.” Sitting down I scanned the faces of the people around me filled with devious smiles but contented faces and happy that I tried my best to give a real Tongan fakamalo.

The rest of the meal was spent eating everything in site and being told by the Tongans that I needed to eat more, an always-present ritual at any Tongan meal. Further, as a quick aside, an interesting aspect of Tonga is that even if people can speak English they usually only speak Tongan to me. This is a sign of respect signifying they think I am worth speaking Tongan too and that they believe I understand more than I actually do. It can be frustrating at times, and I was surprised to learn that the one family I didn’t know at the feast lives in Australia and of course speaks perfect English.

I assumed the rest of the day would pass uneventfully. I had nothing else to expect. I hung around the house and waited to be picked up and taken to a Baha’i study circle with another volunteer in town. I spent several hours there – a place where again I would have never imagined spending my New Years Eve a week, let alone, a year before – and returned to my house around 10:30. Upon my return I realized that the entire village was in church, so I quickly changed into proper church attire and walked over.

I will spare you the details of the service. It started at ten and ended at 1, being only temporarily interrupted with the ringing of the bells when the clock struck midnight. The service was boring – I can’t lie about that – but had an interesting twist at the end. Normally, after a Sunday service the men and elderly women line up and shake each others hand, which I join in as well.

After this service, the ending was slightly different. Every single man, woman, and child greets each other once a year at new years with a particular greeting. They shake hands, kiss each other on the cheek in the European fashion, and for the more senior men and women offer a hearty nose sniff at your neck to conclude the greeting. I, of course, took part, which means that I shook hands, was kissed on the cheek and kissed every single person in my village and received a good hard nose sniff from maybe a quarter.

It was certainly not the way I expected to usher in the new year but it was very touching and I went back home to celebrate the new year in the way I probably assumed I would be the year before. I drank a beer, the expected, watched Scrubs, the unexpected, and went to sleep amazed that though I will be here for two years, with my plan of coming to America during next years school break and my service ending in the fall of 2014, this may be the only new years I ever spend in Tonga.

Thank you all for reading. I hope everyone had great New Years Eve and I wish everyone a happy and healthy New Year.

Termites, Christmas, Feasts, and Planning

Judging from the randomness of the title of this blog post, my readers may be asking themselves what any of these subjects can possibly have in common. The answer, without any facetiousness on my part, is nothing.

Since no singular event occurred in my life in the past week, and I have no great theme which I would like to introduce at this time I have decided to briefly relate small anecdotes on each of the subjects alluded to above.

Termites

Frequent readers will notice that the tone of this blog is fairly positive. That is because, with few exceptions, my experience as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Tonga has been overwhelmingly positive. One of these exceptions, however, is rather miniscule yet has become quite a nuisance.

For the past two months I have been waging a silent war – silent in the fact that I had not previously mentioned the subject in this blog but quite loud within the confines of my home – against termites. To be fair they might not be termites, but carpenter ants or some other nameless sub-species. I am by no means an expert concerning insects, but since these ants leave wood fillings around my house I have taken to calling them termites.

My methods of extermination and co-habitation have been numerous. I have filled up the holes in my house, as a way of preventing the continuous onslaught of these invaders by such measures as silly putty, duct tape, scotch tape, and strips of cardboard from the packages I have received. I have sprayed an overwhelming amount of mortein – the bug spray used in Tonga – that is undoubtedly bad for my health but necessary of my very survival. I have even resorted to the Tongan remedy, as related to me by the town officer of my village Havea, of placing kerosene in the cracks of my house to discourage the alien intruders.

So far I have met with mixed results. Due to my constant vigilance, the termites have temporarily retreated, but since I believe this retreat was purely tactical and thus temporary, I am planning on splitting the cost of an expensive (for Tonga and my stipend) termite jell with another volunteer who shares my problems.

For those of you back home, please don’t be grossed out or feel bad for me as I consider myself very lucky. Other volunteers have major issues with rats and cockroaches – problems far greater than my own – and I am quite content that I only have to battle these pesky insects that somewhat helpfully fill up my free time.

Christmas

As Tonga is a very religious and Christian country, Christmas is very important here. Christmas in Tonga has a very different feeling from America, however, as there is much less of an emphasis on gift giving, and more of a focus on church and community.

Christmas Eve is exclusively a youth event in Tonga, or at least in my village. All of the youth performed songs and dances in front of the village elders and some of the parents. After these performances the little kids were given a few presents while the teenagers and older kids were given bags of candy. Wanting to take part in the gift giving, I gave some of the kids glow in the dark glow sticks (thank you Mary Sue!) I had received in a package and must have seemed like magic to the kids. In return I was rewarded with bags of every candy I have seen in Tonga (no where near as much as in America, but substantial in its own right) that I have been thankfully munching on the past few days.

The next days, Christmas, was very much like any Sunday in Tonga. Church starts at the same time – 10 a.m. – and lasts until 11:30 a.m. as always. The difference however is that after church the entire village ate a massive feast in the hall next door. I was given the honor of sitting in the front with the village elders and church ministers, where we were allotted the best food and greatest portions of meet.

Over the next two hours, everyone feasted and the adults took turns standing up and issuing fakamalo, which literally translate to the saying of thanks. Though I could not understand much of what was said, I was mentioned frequently and was continuously humbled by how thankful they all were for my being there even though I have yet to start teaching.

It was a very nice and Tongan affair, and like all Tongan feasts, I was gifted with as many left over’s as I could carry and that happily sustained me for several days after.

Feasts

On the subjects of feasts, my theory is that Tongans just look for any and every excuse to hold a feast. Events, no matter how big or how small, are not truly honored without a kaipola, or feast.

In the past month alone, I have attended a feast for the annual fundraiser, the youth group (of which I am considered a part of and consists of everyone in the village from the ages of roughly 3 to anyone who is not yet married), a wedding, and of course Christmas. I love the feasts, as it is the only time, besides church, when the entire community comes together and are always very festive occasions.

Planning

Last but not least, to assure all of my readers that I am not just sitting around my house all day doing nothing and feasting – that consists of only half my day – I have been busy planning this past week for the upcoming term. I still have a long way to go, but my goal is to plan out the entire first term (ten weeks) for all of my English classes for Classes 6, 5, 4, and 3.

I have no clue what I am doing and all of this may be a waste of time as I sadly learned that my principle Sione has been reassigned and that I will have a new principle when school starts and whom might change my schedule. That being said, I am trying to make the most of my time and I hope this planning will make my entry to the classroom much smoother.

To conclude, I apologize for the absence of photos in the past few posts. I, unfortunately, have no new photos of myself as there is no one to take them and the café where I usually post these updates is temporarily closed and the Internet of the current establishment I am in does not have good enough Internet for me to upload photos. I promise, however, to remedy this soon.

Happy New Year!

Something New

They were many reasons why I decided to join the Peace Corps, but many of those reasons fall under the umbrella concept of “something new.” I wanted a new experience. I looked forward to integrating into a new culture. I was excited to meet new people from all over the world. I joined to embark on a new adventure.

Before I get to the main point of this post, please allow me to digress for a moment. I have always been interested in learning about different religions. Though I am not particularly religious, I was always fascinated to learn about the religions of the world that I knew nothing about. During my freshman year of college, I wanted to learn more about Jewish identity in Europe over the past 1,000 years, so I took a class on the subject. Sophomore year when I felt my knowledge of the Islam as a religion and history was lacking, I took a class on Islamic Civilization that focused on the religion and some of the great Islamic Empires of our times. When many of my best friends and roommates in college were Hindu and Jain, I wanted to learn more about the religion and took a class on Hindu Traditions (unfortunately I could not find a class on Jainism). I sill regret that I was unable to take a class on Buddhism during my collegiate career.

I believe that I was attracted to the unknown; the idea of learning something new that I knew nothing about yet was so important to, in some cases, a billion people. This desire to experience something new has lead to me to learn more about other religions, join the Peace Corps, and, now, get to the main point of this blog post, the Baha’i Faith.

I had heard of the Baha’i Faith once when I was in college, but I did not know any Baha’is or know anything about the religion so I never thought of it. When I arrived in Tonga I learned that though Tonga is 99.9% Christian, there is small Baha’i community (Vava’u with a population somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 has only about 200 Baha’is). My interest was peaked, yet I still did not think about the religion as I had more pressing matters to attend to in terms of training and learning about the something new right in front of my face, Tonga.

When I arrived at my village and my school, I learned that my counterpart, Paea, was Baha’i and after talking to him about his faith I wanted to learn more. The next week I was in town I looked up the Baha’i faith on the trusted news source, Wikipedia, and mentioned offhandedly to the Peace Corps Volunteer Leader (Sean) who has been living in Tonga for the past two years that I was interested in learning more about the Baha’i Faith. In a small world scenario, he ran into an American Baha’i couple who has lived in Tonga for 34 years!, and a few days later they invited both Sean and I too dinner last Saturday at their house in Neiafu.

Before jumping into what happened next, I think it is important to explain the basic principles of the Baha’i faith, as I assume that many of my readers are as unaware about the religion as I was. I do want to preface this, however, by saying that I am by no means an expert and all of this information I have derived from wikipedia, talking with the couple, and reading the pamphlet on the Faith they gave me. I believe, for the most part, that the information below is accurate.

The Baha’i Faith was founded in 1844 by the Persian nobleman, Baha’u’llah. Baha’is believe there is only one G-d and that he has revealed his teachings to humanity through a series of divine Messengers who have each founded a great religion. The Messengers include, among others, Abraham, Krishna, Zoroaster, Moses, Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad. These Messengers have “cultivated the spiritual, intellectual, and moral capacities of the human race,” as was needed at the time of their arrival, and the knowledge that humanity needs for the modern age was revealed by Baha’u’llah who is the latest of these divine Messengers.

Baha’u’llah taught that all of the world’s religions represent one changeless, eternal faith, and because of this teaching Baha’is are extremely tolerant of other religions. They believe in the spiritual unity of mankind, and view the world’s great holy books, such as the Torah, Qur’an, the Gospel, the Hindu Vedas, and the Buddhist and Zoroastrian scriptures as “humanity’s record of God’s revealed Word,” and thus consider them holy as well.

Baha’u’llah also taught that humanity is one race, destined to live in peace and harmony. This incredibly tolerance, denouncement of prejudice of all kind, and desire for equality among the sexes has lead the Baha’i faith to become the second most widespread independent world religion, after Christianity, with 5 million Baha’is living in 218 countries in every continent in the world.

The essential social principles of the Baha’i Faith include the elimination of all forms of prejudice, the establishment of full equality between the sexes, recognition of the essential oneness of the world’s great religions, elimination of the extremes of poverty and wealth, provision of universal education, recognition of the harmony of science and religion, the pursuit of a sustainable balance between nature and technology, and the establishment of a world federal system based on collective security.

Some interesting facts include:

1.     There is no clergy in the Baha’i Faith. Member gets together to discuss the teachings of Baha’u’llah in “study circles,” and honor G-d as they see fit.

2.     Proselytizing and missionary work is forbidden. However, due to their view of humanity’s oneness, Baha’is are encouraged to live in other countries. While they cannot act as missionaries, they have a responsibility to help people of all religions, and do so through such diverse programs as clean water projects and children’s education. This commitment to development has lead to Baha’is crossing paths with pcvs all over the world.

3.     Baha’is are extremely supportive of the UN, and they view the UN as helping humanity fulfill its destiny of living as one race, in peace and harmony. The Baha’i faith has attended many UN conventions and is affiliated with many of the agencies of the UN.

4.     There is no tension between science and religion. Baha’is believe that “religion offers answers to those questions of morals, human purpose, and our relationship to G-d that science cannot approach…[but] any religion that ignores the modern scientific truths runs the risk of descending into fanaticism.” Thus Baha’is believe that human society can only move forward by recognizing the “harmonious and complementary nature” of religion and science.

5.     There are no sects; there is only one Baha’i Faith.

6.     Their headquarters and holy sites are located in Haifa, Israel.

7.     Founded in Iran, Baha’is in Iran have been persecuted by the Muslim orthodoxy of the country to this day.

I apologize for this post being so long. Unfortunately it can be quite wordy when explaining the basic principles of a religion, but I promise the finish line is near.

As I mentioned before, Sean and I attended dinner at the home of the American Baha’i couple, who have lived in Tonga for 34 years. They are incredible people, who cannot be nicer. They regaled us with tales of their 5-month trip around the world – through New Zealand, Australia, Europe, Israel, and the United States – while serving us delicious enchiladas, rice, coleslaw, and home made brownies for desert. They genuinely wanted to know more about myself and my story, and explained to me the basic principles of the Baha’i Faith and how they came to be Baha’is after being born Christians.

The next day they invited me to attend their “study circle,” which is what they call their prayer groups, on Sunday night. I was happy to say yes and it was an interesting experience. At the study circle, was myself, the couple, two Tongans, a Samoan whom I know as he works at the café where I am current uploading this post, and the beautiful 8 months old daughter of the Samoan man and his Tongan wife. In the circle, each person is handed a worksheet and pen. On the pieces of paper are the teachings of Baha’u’llah, with questions and comments that the circle is meant to discuss and explore their thoughts and feelings. Everyone is a teacher and a student. One person helps facilitate the discussion, but no one, including myself, is allowed to be silent and all views are respected and explored. It felt more like attending class than going to Temple or Church, but it was a truly fascinating learning experience that I hope to enjoy again.

Again, I apologize for the length of this post, but I wanted to give the Baha’i Faith the justice it deserves. Like many religions, it is a beautiful religion that is unique in its acknowledgement of how similar (one as Baha’is would call it) all of the world’s religions truly are. What is written above is only a brief summary of the principles and history of the Baha’i Faith. Some of these principles I agree with and some I disagree with, but it is a fascinating religion that I am glad to learn about, and only hope to explore more in the future.

As the title of this posts suggest, learning something new is never boring and always valuable. Happy holidays!

The Kaipola

Following a great birthday on Thursday, I experienced one of my more interesting weekends that following Saturday.

The week before I had been invited to attend the Wesleyan Church in Houma’s annual fundraiser and the kaipola (feast) that would occur afterwards. Though I live in the village of Ha’akio, the two villages of Houma and Mangia compose part of my school district so I am trying to integrate into all three villages and I attended church in Houma the week before.

I was not expecting anything extraordinary as, by this point, I am well versed in the Wesleyan services. The family I lived with in Ha’asini was Wesleyan, and most of the people in the three villages I live in in Vava’u are Wesleyan, so I have more or less been to a Wesleyan church every Sunday since I have been in Tonga. I knew more money would be given than usual – a practice that I disagree with, but more on this later - but I did not foresee the ridiculousness that would soon ensue.

Though I knew the feast would not start until 3 pm, out of respect I went to church at 1 pm for the beginning of the service. It was a very unusual service. With the exception of two speakers in the first ten minutes, nothing else happened. Everyone sat down in the pews and a man and a woman came around with the collection boxes. Each Tongan would give between one and 5 pa’anga every time a collector came by. The collectors walked down the aisles maybe fifty times over the course of the next two hours, and every time the villagers would put a few pa’anga in the box. I would assume the church collected a few thousand pa’anga this way – a large sum but not ridiculous.

What I did not know, at least not yet, as I sat in the back of the church letting my mind wander for two hours, was that each family also brought envelopes stuffed with cash to donate to the church. The Wesleyan Church of Houma, with maybe 100 congregates including children, raised 41,000 pa’anga ($25,000 US dollars). No family gave less than 1,000 pa’anga with some families giving 5,000 or more.

I was shocked. This is a ridiculous amount of money in Tonga. Each family gave a large percentage of their total income to the church in one day, compromising their ability to provide for themselves and their children for the other 364 days of the year.

With the help of my friend Pila, who has lived in Australia for 30 years and speaks flawless English, I tried to understand how this was possible. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I don’t really understand how they were able to raise this much money. Does every family pay?

Pila: Yes, every family. The ones who can afford it pay more, but no family pays less than 1,000 pa’anga.

Me: Can they afford to pay this sum? I didn’t think they receive that much money from working in the bush. Is it all from overseas?

Pila: Pretty much. All of the families receive money from relatives overseas and they use this money to give to the Church. It is too much money. When they work in the bush, the families might sell some of the crops for money but they mostly use the crops to feed themselves. This is overseas money. My mom donated 5,000 pa’anga, all money my brothers and sisters sent back from working in Australia.

Me: Ok…what does the church do with the money?

Pila: Church is a big business in Tonga. Half of the money goes to the headquarters in Nuku’alofa and the rest might go to repairs for the church and other things. I don’t really know exactly.

End of the conversation.

Everyone might feel differently about this issue. I am not personally very religious, but I have discussed how much money Tongans give to the church with some of the other pcvs (all of whom are Christian and some are much more religious than myself) and they are also uncomfortable with this practice.

The issue is not the money in and of itself. A person has the right to do what they wish with their money. The problem is that the money given to the church is not only money that was received from the hard work of relatives overseas who wanted to help provide for their families, but also it is a large percentage of each family’s yearly income and directly compromises their ability to provide for themselves and their families. It sadly reminds me of the indulgences that occurred in the Catholic Church in Europe prior to the Reformation, and while I respect how important religion, along with family and community, are to Tongans, I sincerely hope in the future that Tongans will only give as much to the church so as they can still meet their basic needs. Seeing my students at school go hungry from not having eaten lunch and knowing that the money that could have fed them was given to the church is a difficult thing to observe.

To end on a happier note, and indeed while I struggled with the amount of money being donated this was a joyous occasion for the village, the fundraiser was followed with the largest feast I have ever seen. Every type of food that is available in Tonga was there and in spectacular quantities. Dozens of roast pigs. Lobster. Crab. Asian Noodles. Fried chicken, grilled chicken, spicy chicken. Roast Lamb. Beef. Grilled and Fried fish. Lasagna. Crab salad. Coke, Sprite, and Fanta everywhere. Pineapples and Watermelon. Cake. Goody bags in front of every person filled with chips, cookies, apples, oranges, lollipops, and other sweets.

It was overwhelming. There was so much food that for leftovers I was given a bowl of Asian noodles, a bottle of coke, a large goody bag of sweets and fruit, and a third of a roast pig. I was offered much more food, but I had to say no as I could no longer carry anything else.

As an honored guest – which is crazy that at the age of 23, palangi, and a teacher I am considered one of the more important people in the village – I sat at the front table with very important faiefekaus (Church ministers). The feast was delicious and I left with a stomach about to burst.

Tongans are a very generous people. Sometimes their generosity is difficult for me to observe, as with the giving of so much money to the church, but in other situations, like the communal sharing of food, it is fantastic to behold. I do not know if my feelings regarding this issue will change in the next two years, nor do I know how you my faithful readers will regard this level of generosity, whether you agree or disagree with my analysis and perception, I just wanted to give my two cents and explore a difficult but interesting aspect of life in Tonga.

12 hours into my 24 hour ferry ride last month in the island group of Ha'apai

Even Vava'u is not without its tourist traps

My view on Thanksgiving