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.