A Secret Beach and a not-so-secret School

My 2^nd grade teacher always told me that every good story starts on a positive note, so that is exactly what I am going to do. My charger, for the moment, has been reborn and I am cautiously optimistic it will remain alive until a new charger arrives in the mail. A New Zealander who owns a café in town generously taped up the exposed part of my chord in conductor tape, and so far so good. Thus, I will continue to post as much as I can, and I even have some pictures of myself in them at the end of this post.

This post will focus on my first three weeks of school and the particularly fun weekend I just enjoyed. Since three weeks is a long time, I will limit myself to the highlights as best as I can.

The first week was all about preparation. My classroom had not been used in years so it had to be cleaned, swept, have trash picked from the walls, and nicely white papered over. The first day was very simply taking attendance and seeing how many students we have this year – it can change quite often – and we finished early enough to allow me to watch the Super Bowl in town, something I was sure I would miss.

The rest of the week was an odd combination of jobs, fake teaching, and meetings. We had a PTA meeting on Wednesday where the teachers and I shared what we needed for the upcoming school year. The wish list was the typical Tongan staples: chairs, desks, mosquito coils (literally life savers), carpet (it’s not actually carpet but rather thin sheets that cover the floor), blackboards, and many other items that we may receive in the somewhat distant future. Also, the PTA took a quick vote concerning who would be chairman of the PTA this year, and every hand shot up when my name was “randomly” selected first. It was mostly in jest but I now may or may not be the Chairman of the PTA.

The rest of the week was interesting for a few reasons. First, one day an army of Tongans from the 3 villages that make up my school district descended upon my school to mow the lawn and cut back the vast hordes of vegetation that had grown during the break. I, along with my students, also spent two days gluing large pieces of white paper to the walls to cover the filth, and cutting and coloring slips of paper to decorate the borders and provide some life to the classroom (I have before and after shots of the classroom I will post eventually). I am still waiting on color paper so I can make signs for my classroom, which will brighten up the room, be instructive, and is mandated by the Ministry of Education, but I am still waiting for those to arrive.

The past two weeks have been quite the learning experience. Having never taught before, I do not really know what I am doing, but so far the students have not rebelled. The classes are still picking up steam, and I hope to continue improving each week.

One interesting side note, however, is disciplinary action. I have not mentioned this before, but Tongans use corporal punishment. They hit their kids. Parents do it. Teachers do it. Anyone in the village can hit anyone’s kids and it is seen as a completely acceptable teaching strategy. They are not hit particularly hard, I would compare it to old school Catholic nuns with rulers or 1950’s America, but it is still hard to see.

Last week, there was a day where one of my classes was misbehaving. The kids are great, but their kids, and wanted to test the boundaries for their new Palangi teacher. Since I obviously won’t hit them, and they know that, I had them run laps around the school. My principle, a very nice and little woman in her 40’s asked me why they were running and I told her it was because they were being bad. She looked at me and said, “Why don’t you just hit them?” I explained that I don’t really hit kids, and she looked at me, totally understanding, and said, “That’s ok. Just flick their ears then. Like this..” and demonstrated on a nearby kid. I just smiled and said, maybe next time I will have them clean the classroom.

Now, on to the weekend. This past weekend was a rarity for me – an event-filled three days. Friday night started with a birthday party, as one of the pcv’s was turning 29. We all met at an American owned restaurant, ate some delicious pizza, and had our first taste of beer in weeks. It was great to see everyone, especially the three outer island volunteers who I hadn’t seen in weeks, and have some American time.

After dinner, we went to the only bar in Neiafu, Tonga Bob’s, to kick back, dance, and have a few beers. Noting worth mentioning happened here, except that we left at closing time, so around 12:30. Randomly, after the bar closed, we were invited to drink Kava at the field by the police station where some of the men drink Kava every night. At this impromptu Kava ceremony was the Minister of Finance and the outgoing and active Police Commissioner of Tonga. It was a surreal experience to drink Kava so randomly and with Tongans of such importance. It was one of those moments where I had to just shake my head and laugh, “Only in Tonga.”

Not content to be done for the weekend, a few of us decided to go camping on Saturday. I was extremely excited to go, as I have wanted to go camping since I arrived in Tonga, and I had still yet to swim in the Ocean in Vava’u with the exception of at the wharf on my birthday.

For our destination we chose the Secret Beach (how could a beach with that name be bad?), which is quietly tucked behind a village on the northern end of the island. The beach is called Secret Beach – at least by the volunteers – because there is a bit of a hike to reach the beach, many of the Tongans don’t go there and the tourists don’t know about it. It is a small beach, but it is quiet, empty, and there is actual sand and little coral so the swimming is perfect.

There were 8 of us. 3 pcvs, including myself, two Australian volunteers, an American who lives in Vava’u with his family, a former Australian volunteer who now works in Tonga, and her Tongan boyfriend. For food we decided to roast a pig. We literally bought a pig, put it in a sack, took it with us to the beach, killed and roasted it, and ate it on the beach. It was delicious, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The Saturday and Sunday morning we spent there were perfect. The swimming in the clear and unmatched beauty of the waters of the South Pacific was stunning. The sand, something I haven’t felt for months, was periodically cool and hot beneath my feet as the sun moved back and forth between the clouds. We, and by we I mean mainly the only Tongan in our group, killed the pig, took out its organs, washed it, removed the hair, and placed in on a spike to roast it. For our appetizers we gorged on cooked lung and stomach. It was actually pretty good.

We feasted at sunset, just feet from the ocean. We roasted the pig for hours. We threw potatoes and hopa, which is a type of banana, into the fire for side dishes. We even added some salad and cookies for desert for good measure. In a “Why Not,” type mood, a few of us even tried a little pig brain. It tasted ok, neither good nor bad. The entire meal was delicious.

At night we built a large fire and just sat around and talked. I would often lie on my back and just gaze at the stars. It is often cloudy in Vava’u, so while I definitely see more stars than I am used too, I see less than you would think. On this clear night, they literally lit up the sky. Everywhere I looked I could see the Milky Way and constellations I could not recognize.

When we left the next day, we took a quick detour to the lookout to gaze at the cliffs of Vava’u, the beach below, and the vastness of the Ocean. It was a terrific end to a weekend that I won’t soon forget.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this post, as I will not able to post another one for two weeks. I promise, however, it will be worth the wait. Next weekend, I, along with the other pcvs, are heading to an outer to celebrate a birthday and explore. It will be my first time visiting one of the outer islands, and I hope to regale you in the next post with tales of the island and more pictures of your favorite author.

Enjoy the photos! (I know they’re overdue)

The view from the beach

The lookout.  That is the beach below. 

The pig, pre-roasted

The Feast

A Momentary Absence

Hello Readers. I, unfortunately, have some bad news to relate.

First, it seems that in the past week something happened to my blog. I submitted a post last week, without a problem, but was then made aware two days later that my blog was no longer appearing online when I spoke with my parents on the phone. As I only go online once a week, I’m afraid my blog had disappeared for the last few days, which I am sure confused anyone who tried to read it this past week. It certainly surprised me and I apologize for the confusion.

I have since rectified the problem. I am not exactly sure what happened, but the problem seems to be fixed, and I hope this will not be an issue again. The Blogger website told me various ways I could fix the problem, but, in truth, all I did was sign in and the problem went away. Again, I am hopeful it will remain working from now on.

The second issue, however, is a bit more daunting. My computer charger is breaking. Before leaving for Tonga and over the past 5 months, I have constantly worried that my computer would break as I have repeatedly been told that electronics do not do well in hot and humid Tonga. I never thought about my charger. Not even once.

This past week my charger has been held together by a combination of tape, clips, and luck. It is still currently working, but each day has become subsequently harder to maneuver any kind of electricity toward my computer and I fear that this won’t last much longer.

My parents have sent my new charger in the mail. This can take anywhere from 4 weeks to never. I am also furiously looking for a charger in Vava’u. My secret hope is that I might be able to find someone willing to sell me their old, extra charger, but so far I have not met with much success.

This, therefore, may be my last post for a while. I wanted to let my faithful readers know, so that they were not worried about my lack of updates and the odd timing of the blog’s temporary disappearance. I will still be able to access my email through other means, so if you would like any updates on my life please email me.

Thank you for understanding. I sincerely hope this stoppage will be short lived and I will soon have use of a fully charged computer.

Fish Trucks and a Beach-less Island

There are times during the past five months that I have noticed something random that has peaked my interest. These perceptions are not important or worthy enough to be the subjects of a post, nor are they really related to the topics I have previously explored. Therefore, I have decided to mention some of the odd, surprising, interesting, weird, and different things that I have noticed in this post and will talk more about the first week or two of school in my next post.

1.     Everyone reading this is probably familiar with the ice cream trucks in America that used to play a distinctive melody that made kids sprint to the truck to buy ice cream as fast as their little legs could carry them. Though these trucks are somewhat outdated now, I believe that everyone has an idea of what I am talking about.

Well Tonga has something similar, except instead of ice cream, the ice cream man is selling fish. Whenever the fish market does not sell out, a man – always the same man – in a car – always the same car – with a large trunk drives through all of the villages blowing a whistle. This whistle tells everyone that he is selling the fish stuffed in the coolers in the back of his car. While this does not elicit the same level of euphoria as say an ice cream truck in America, the fish car man and his whistle do exceedingly well in Vava’u.

2.     When you hear South Pacific island certain images pop into your head. Palm trees filled with coconuts. Strong Ocean swells. Picturesque scenery. Incredible sunsets. Gorgeous beaches.

All of these images are certainly true for Tonga, except for the beaches. With the exception of the island group Ha’apai, which is famous for its beaches, Tonga has pretty terrible beaches. There are several reasons for this.

When you reach the ocean in Tonga you find several things. Mud flats. Cliffs. Mangroves. Blowholes. Sand-less expanses. Rocky outcrops. All of these things make it difficult to swim in the ocean. It is still remarkably pretty, just from the vantage point of land.

That being said there are beaches. The outer islands, which I have yet to visit, supposedly have beautifully beaches filled with coral reefs and are great for snorkeling. There are several beaches within biking or driving distance from my house that are beautiful and swimmable at high tide. These beaches are, however, surprisingly few and far between.

3.     Children in Tonga do not call their parents by the Tongan equivalent of mother and father. They use their first names. In fact, first names are pretty much used in any scenario in Tonga, regardless of where you are. I don’t know if this is unique to the South Pacific or not, I just found it surprising.

4.     The following is a true anecdote that I wanted to relate:

Several years ago in Tongatapu, some New Zealanders started a business that made some material out of used coconuts. In the coconut littered Tonga, this seemed like a great idea. They offered Tongans money for every coconut they brought into the factory, much like how you can receive more for returning empty cans and bottles in the States.

The business was going well. They were getting coconuts but they needed more. They decided to double the price for each coconut, hoping to offer Tongans a greater incentive to bring their coconut shells in larger numbers. Instead of receiving double the coconuts, however, the number sharply reduced to half the previous amount.

I love this story. For me, it is classic Tonga. This anecdote incorporates several characteristics of Tongans. There is a degree of laziness in this. Any Tongan you meet will readily admit this and privately and public lament the sometimes laziness and island mentality of the Tongan people.

However, more than laziness, there is also ambition. Without a doubt, a different kind of ambition than we recognize in Western society, but an ambition nonetheless. This is an ambition to be content, to provide what is thought to be needed and no more than that.

The Tongans bringing the coconuts wanted to receive a certain amount of money for their work. When the New Zealanders doubled the wages, the Tongans saw it as a way to get the money they wanted for half the work, rather than a means of doubling their income. This was not a way for them to get rich, but rather a way to acquire the specific amount of money that they required.

This is a story that, in many ways, sums up the experience of living in Tonga for the better (almost always for better) and for the worse.

5.     The hardest thing about doing laundry in Tonga is everything but actually doing the laundry. It is making sure it won’t rain for the rest of the day and the next one. It is making sure the clothesline is high and out of reach of pigs, chickens, and dogs. It is finding a spot to place the chair, bucket of soapy water, bucket of fresh water, clips for the clothesline, and laundry bag that isn’t covered in animal poop.

Let me explain. There are two methods of fencing in Tonga. Keeping things in and keeping things out. Almost every house in Tonga, including my village, has a fence around it to keep the unfenced in pigs out. The only exception to this is my house.

Since most houses have this fence, some families keep their pigs fenced in within this area. Other families keep their pigs fenced in an enclosure on their farm in the bush. Others, probably the majority I must confess, don’t fence their animals and let them wander and forage for food except for daily return trips when the animals know to receive food.

As I mentioned, my house has no fence. It is also on a field that is lush and green. Sometimes the field is used for volleyball. As my fingers type these words, there is volleyball net literally 5 feet from my front door.

Always, however, my yard is filled with pigs walking around and eating the grass. There are some benefits to this. I only rarely burn my garbage now because the pigs, chickens, and dogs consume all of my trash. (Side note: Watching what pigs eat, even more than watching them killed, makes it somewhat harder to eat them. They are delicious, though, so I persevere). The negative consequence of this, however, is that my yard is riddled with animal poop. At night, I have to walk with a flashlight to make sure I don’t step in anything too gross.

Occasionally, some of the villagers come and collect the poop to either clear the field for volleyball or to use as fertilizer, but until then the field is riddled in excrement. Therefore, finding a spot for laundry isn’t always obvious and I often wake up in the morning saying, “Ah! I love the smell of pig poop (I don’t say poop but use your imagination) in the morning.”

There are more random thoughts that I was planning on bringing up, but as this post is getting longer than I expected, I will save my other gems for a later date. Now, to conclude, there is only one thing left to mention:

Feast Watch 2013

This latest feast update was both a surprise and a bit of a disappointment to your humble protagonist.

Last Friday, I went for a run around 5:15 p.m., as I usually do, as it is much cooler later in the day (thank you for not saying duh). On my way back, a bunch of people in my village were hanging out outside the first house I needed to run past to get home, so I stopped by to say hello. In Tongan, and remember I had just finished a run and was sweaty, exhausted, and had nowhere near the necessary brainpower remaining to concentrate on Tongan, they asked me if I was going to church.

I asked, “When,” to which they replied, “6.” After some quick calculations I realized it was probably close to 6 though I noticed that none of them were even close to being ready. I gave a lukewarm response, to which they said there would be a malanga (speech) and a feast, and heavily implied that I should go. I was done for. Tongans have great guilt trip eyes. The moment I stopped to talk I was doomed.

I rushed back to my house and jumped in the shower. I was still overheated, so after the shower I put on some shorts and sat down right in front of my life-saving fan. I knew it was 6, but as I live within sight of the church, I figured I had some time to spare and I needed to cool down or I would be sweating like crazy.

I was also starving. Readers, please allow me for a minute to backtrack, as it is relevant to the matter at hand. I pretty much cook four things. That is because I can afford and know how to make four things. Those four things are pasta and tomato sauce, grilled (on a stove top) chicken, rice, chicken hotdogs, semi-fried and quasi-edible eggs, and cooked vegetables. Oh wait, that is 6. Well, regardless, I can’t cook many things.

Occasionally, because it is more expensive, I am able to make spaghetti and meat sauce. I had done this once before in the almost 3 months I have lived in Vava’u and it was delicious, by far the best thing I can make. For lunch that day, I ate little knowing that I was going to cook my super amazing spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner that night. I was looking forward to it all day – in Peace Corps these little things end up meaning a whole lot.

To return, I was starving. I was tired. I had just run and I was still exhausted, but I knew that I should go to the malanga so I decided to hold off on the cooking until 7:30, as things often start late in Tonga.

6:30 - nothing happens. I decide to get dressed anyway, so I would be ready whenever the service started. 7 - no one is at the church. 7:30 – nada, zip. My stomach is beginning to eat itself. There are weird noises. It was time for desperate measures.

I walked over to my neighbor’s house to see what time the church was starting. Lisi, Mana’s daughter, told me 6. Mind you, it was 7:30. I kindly mentioned this to her, and she said, “Oh, I hadn’t realized. I don’t know when it will start.” At this point I just needed something to keep my mind off of food so I went into the hall, where they just put in a tv last week, and watched the Seven’s rugby tournament that is currently being played in New Zealand.

8 0’ clock. The bell rings. People are walking over to the church. Yes! – Never thought I would say that before Tonga.

I walk over. Instead of everyone going into the church, some mats are set outside for the youth to sit on. I walk over to Mana and ask him why there was a special malanga today. He replied, “To give the youth something to do on a Friday night instead of going to bars and drinking. You know, to make sure they save room for Jesus in their lives.” I said the only thing I could think of, “Ok.”

I sat down with Mana on one of the benches, and for the next hour I listened to speeches I did not understand and watched what can only be described as several interpretative dances to religious music performed by the youth group. Meanwhile, I was thinking of how much food I was planning on devouring at the feast and hoped that the opening prayer did not last too long.

9:30. The malanaga is over and we walk into the hall to eat. There was nothing there. Normally during feasts, there are tables filled with food everywhere. Today, there weren’t even mats. I looked around for a bit until one of the villagers gestured for me to join him at the kava circle. I drank kava to hide my hunger, until a few minutes later I was passed a parcel of tin foil. I opened it up greedily. Inside was some curry chicken and breadfruit. I devoured it within minutes, was offered and ate another package moments later, talked for a bit, and then returned home stuffed, happy, and content.

That is the first of my feasts. It was not much of a feast, it started late, and all I could think of during the dances was Will Ferrell in Old School minus the ribbon. It was classic Tonga and I went to sleep dreaming of a lunch of spaghetti and meat sauce for the next day.

Thank you for reading!