Sports Day

Last Friday was Sports Day, the day where every GPS – Government Primary School – conducts a series of track events with the other schools in their region. My school, part of the East Region, practiced all week to prepare for the events. School was taught in the mornings, and then every afternoon after lunch, we would race. Quickly, much to my delight I must admit, I became the Sports Czar for my school, leading all the efforts in warming up, practicing the events, teaching the proper technique, and recording the results so we would know who should run what event when Sports Day occurred.

This week was probably the most fun I have had in school to date. My regular classes went well and then I loved coaching the sports. The kids were incredibly excited to run and compete and they were hilarious to watch. They would fall left and right. The sack races, with over half the kids never making it, left everyone in tears. The hurdles – somehow we have adjustable hurdles that we use 5 times a year but not enough books or pencils for our students – with the kids continuously jumping around, running through, and tripping over them was equally amusing.

We practiced all the events. 800 meters. 400 meters. 200 and 100 meters. Relay races, sack races, and sprints for the little kids in Class 1 and 2. I taught the kids how to start with, “On your mark, Get set, Go!” and showed them how to properly pass the stick during the relay races. By Friday we were ready.

I hopped on the bus with all of my students and their families, many others also coming in cars, to GPS Ha’alaufuli. The school was packed. My school only has 40 students, but 2 of the other schools have as many as 180 kids so the odds were certainly stacked against us. All of the teachers, students, and parents were there. The lawn was freshly mowed and track lines were drawn into it. All of the kids were in their school colors. Yellow for us, and red, green, and blue for the remaining schools.

The day was a ton of work. It was unbelievably hot and I was running all around the place making sure my students were where they were supposed to be. It was so much fun though. I loved watching all of the events, especially when juggling for the girls is considered a field event in Tonga. Being a small school, my students did not win many events, but my class 5 boys cleaned up, and the Class 5 boys, one Class 4 girl, and two Class 6 boys did well enough to compete in the all GPS sports day in the capital next week.

Two particular events are worth further mentioning as well. The first is that Sports day is considered a food day, meaning that all of the parents bring tons of food for themselves, the kids, and the teachers. The food was everywhere. Root Crop, Fried Fish, Chicken, and Pig. I was absolutely bombarded by food. The moment my plate was even close to being finished, heaps of food was dumped into my lap. It was all tasty, and following my principle of eating in Tonga – when you actually like the food, eat a lot of it – I ate until I was fit to burst.

The second event is more of a phenomenon. This phenomenon is Tongan women. At every event, be it sports, dances, or whatever, the women, mostly the married mothers between then ages of 30 and 50 are by the far the best part. They are absolutely hysterical. Also, please remember that most of these women are quite large, easily weighing over 200 pounds. This context is important for the mental images I soon hope to impart.

At Sports Day the women would race the kids alongside the events. They would run out into the middle of the field and tackle each other. One woman ventured out in a bike, only to be run down by 3 other woman, completely blindsided, and taken to the ground. It was absolutely hilarious, and I tried my best to avoid being run down when I stood to close to the sidelines.

Unfortunately, these Tongan mothers had other plans for me. After lunch, before the finals of the events began, the schools held an impromptu concert to raise money. Basically they blasted music and called the mothers and teachers of each school to come up and dance. I had no intention of dancing in front of 500 Tongans so I tried to remain unseen, a difficult prospect as I was the only non-Tongan and stood out quite easily.

When my school was called, the MC on the microphone also shouted, “Ha’u Soni. Ha’u Pisi Koa. Come Soni. Come Peace Corps.” Before I could make any decision two of the mothers, grabbed my arms and half ran half carried me to the front. Stuck, I started dancing, and within 30 seconds I was immediately bombarded by money. Tongans, when they give money, stuff the bills into your clothes and stick them to your body. They do this because if the money falls off it traditionally means that the unmarried person is not a virgin. Feeling very much like a stripper, woman after woman put money down my shirt and in my pockets, supplying the school with plenty of money.

I ran to my principal, giving her the money and hoping that my job was done. However, she wanted more money and ushered me back into the fray. Shaking my head, I slowly walked back to the group of mothers’ eyeing me like a lion eyes an impala, silently licking their chomps. Within a few minutes the dancing got quite rough, with these 200 plus pound woman fighting over me and picking me up and shaking me. Then they decided to team up and I was grabbed, lifted, carried by 7 women like a rug, and they attempted to unbutton my shirt – not caring at all that it is actually illegal for a man to be shirtless in public in Tonga.

Freaking out, I had no idea what to do. The average age of the women was 40. They outweighed me each individually and collectively by several hundred pounds. How could I fight back?

Luckily, before they could unbutton more than one of my buttons, they dropped me. This dropping momentarily stunned the women into a silent lethargy and they helped me up. The moment I stood up, before they could act, I ran away as fast as I possibly could. Every single person at the school, maybe 500 people, was watching and laughing as hard as only Tongans can laugh. Turning bright red, I walked back to my principle, who was laughing like crazy, and told her I deserved at least a few days off for that.

Also, it is important to note. There is ZERO hyperbole or exaggeration in this story. If anything, I am not doing the event the honor it deserves and am understating it. It was crazy.

Even with this attack, the day was a great success and I had a lot of fun. Since then, I have returned with students from my school who won their events to practice with our region for the all GPS Sport Day in the capital next week. I am now the Sports Czar for the entire region, and I have to admit, I want to win.

I also wanted to update everyone with my plans. This may be my last post for several weeks. Since I will not receive a new charger until April when I see my parents, and the following week with Sports Day, Good Friday, and Easter when every store is closed, may make getting on the internet impossible. Further, I am leaving Tonga for two weeks to travel with my parents to Bali, Singapore, and Tokyo on April 3^rd, and when I return on the 13^th I have a week of Peace Corps training in Tongatapu. Thus, this will likely be my last post for a while.

I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading and enjoy the photos below.

Hurdles. The kid in the yellow jersey is one of my Class 6 students.

400 meters. Notice the Moms running with the kids.

100 meter sprint. The kid in the yellow is also one of my students.

Juggling - a popular girls event

Tug of War - my school on the left dominating

Victory parade

Rain Rain Go Away

I have often mentioned that the weather in Tonga is unpredictable.  In case you forgot, it is. In Tonga, we have every natural disaster. Cyclones, check. Earthquakes (some of which have shaken my room), check. Tsunamis, a distinct possibility but thankfully no check yet. The South Pacific is practically ground zero for natural disasters.

The weather that has affected my life so much the past few weeks has not, however, been a natural disaster, but rather rain. A lot of rain. Never ending rain. For the last month with a few exceptions, notably my incredible weekend to an outer island, it has rained every day, and often quite hard.

The rain has little effects on my life both positive and negative. When it rains it is much cooler (it is currently the hot and rainy season in Tonga and it is very, very hot). There are some nights when I’ve even been able to sleep without a fan blowing inches away from my face, which for me at this point, is a definite win.

There are little annoyances, as well. It makes drying my laundry almost impossible, though one day it was so windy my clothes actually dried even with the rain. It also makes running quite difficult, and except for a few fun runs in the rain, I have been mostly house bound this past month.

The main effect of the rain, however, is the impact rain has on school. My classroom has no light and the school has a tin roof. This means that when it rains my class becomes incredibly dark and loud. In order for my students to hear I have to shout over the rain, which is not very conducive to learning when you are trying to teach a foreign language. To combat the rain, Tongan schools embark on what they call a “Long Run,” which means they skip lunch, and end school around 1:30. One of the reasons I teach in the mornings is so I can always teach all of my classes in the event of a Long Run or a half-day.

The rain has been so bad that they have even canceled school four times in the past two weeks. I have never had a snow day, as I sadly missed the one snow day at Wash U when I was studying abroad, but I may be the only kid in America who has had Hurricane days, thanks to Florida, and now rain days, thanks to Tonga.

These days, when the rain is so bad and the wind is howling, there is not much you can do but stay at home. Unfortunately this spell of rain demanded captivity has coincided with the death of my charger –I am expecting a new one any day now – so I have turned to my last remaining resource, reading. While I love to read and have read a lot regardless of the weather since I arrived in Tonga, I read something like 5 books in one week, which is too much even for me. Luckily, as I am writing this post, the weather seems to be turning and since Tuesday it has been beautiful, with only the occasional sun shower. I have been freed.

In non-rain related news, I have two school related anecdotes that I think are worth mentioning. The first is that a student told me that a dog ate his homework…and I believed him….and it was true. I thought the dog eating the homework story was an urban legend, something no student has ever been able to relay to his teacher with a strait face. Well in Tonga, myths are meant to be broken I suppose.

The second story revolves around a test. This week I gave my class 6 and 5 a reading and writing test. This test, designed by a former pcv in Tonga, is one of the ways Peace Corps evaluates my teaching. I give the same test in the beginning and end of the year, and then relate on a form how many kids improved by 10%.

After administering the test, I joked with my counterpart Paea that if I really wanted to integrate into Tongan culture, I needed to publicize the test scores, rank the students, invite the entire school and all the parents to my classroom, and hold a ceremony where I call up the kids in order from the highest to lowest achieving. He loved this idea and thought it was hilarious, because this is what Tongans actually do.

The scores of the every child on the Class 6 exam which decides what High School they will attend, and is a HUGE deal, is publicly announced to all of Tonga on the radio. The students in each school are ranked by how well they do in school that year in front of the parents and the entire school at the school’s closing ceremony.

This is basically the equivalent of posting every senior in High School’s SAT score so everyone can see everyone’s scores, then holding a ceremony in front of all the parents, students, and teachers, ranking the students by their scores. Tongans, however, have an amazing ability to laugh at themselves and others without any malice, and do not feel self-conscious during these events; though I think part of this is that having people see you self-conscious is possibly worse than a low-test score. I was very surprised when I first learned about this system, which works well for Tonga, but I’m sure would be disaster for us back home.

That is all for today. Thank you for reading and have a great weekend!

The Inside of Swallows Cave

With the other pcvs at the Lookout in Holonga

The Outer Islands

Two weeks ago, I promised pictures and adventure. I hope this post lives up to that promise. When I look back over the past two weekends, it doesn’t seem like I am in the Peace Corps. True, there is some unique cultural immersion which screams Peace Corps, but the diving, snorkeling, and caving, sound more like something out of a South Pacific tourist book than a government agency. Don’t worry though, during the week I still very much work, and I will return to that premise in the next post. But, for now, it is adventure.

Also, warning, this will be a long post so I will try to briefly touch upon my first weekend, before going into a longer exploration of my experience on the outer islands.

Two weeks ago I went scuba diving with another pcv and an Australian volunteer. I am certified, and as I have been able to save some of the money Peace Corps gives me each month, I was able to afford to go to scuba diving. I was incredibly excited. Besides the obvious thrill of diving, I could not wait to take a motorboat and cruise through the ocean between all of the islands. I had not been on a boat, except for the ferry when I first came to Vava’u, since coming to Tonga so I was perhaps more enthusiastic about just being out on the water than even the diving itself.

First, however, it is important to understand the geography of Tonga and Vava’u before I delve further into my story (it may also be helpful to Google a map of Vava’u as well). The main island of Tonga is Tongatapu. I live in Vava’u, 300 km to the north, which is called an outer island because it is not the main island. Vava’u has a main island called Vava’u Lahi where most of the volunteers – 6 out of 9 to be exact – live, including myself, as well as most of the Tongan population of Vava’u.

Around Vava’u are dozens of islands. Some are huge and some are tiny. Some are inhabited and some are completely empty. They are beautiful, and far closer than they appear on maps, but with a slow moving Tongan boat it can take as long as 2 and half hours to reach some of the farther islands. It may sounds confusing, but basically there is a main island of Vava’u where I live, and many smaller islands surrounding the main island, some of which are inhabited.

So, with the lesson finished, two weeks ago, the three of us and our Australian scuba guide, who has lived in Vava’u for 17 years, Riki, set out to dive. The first step was to explore the various islands and see where the ocean was the calmest, and therefore where the best diving would be.

We jetted out of the harbor and started cruising around the islands (in Tongan boats this would take forever but on his motorboat it took maybe 30 minutes), before finally choosing the distant and uninhabited island of ‘Eukafa to dive. ‘Euakafa is a large island, far from the main island, that screams prehistoric and if you told me dinosaurs still live there I’d probably believe you. If I am not getting my islands mixed up, I believe it is the same island that Survivor wanted to use for their show before eventually choosing Vanuatu instead.

The diving itself was incredible. The topography was rich and varied, and the reef was thick with choral and schools of fish. While under the water, I saw clown fish, lionfish, giant clams, eels, and a 6 ft leopard shark, which I could have sworn was 15 feet long. Fortunately it was sleeping, but I’d be lying if I said my oxygen did not deplete a little more rapidly when I saw that shark taking a cat nap behind the reef.

For those of you who are not divers, you cannot dive again right after you come up for air. It takes a little time before you can dive again, so we spent the next two hours boating around, eating an egg sandwich, and trolling which is basically a type of fishing where you drag a line behind a moving boat. We only caught one fish, but I think Riki was very happy to capture his future dinner.

After the proper time had elapsed, we dove again in between the islands of Tapana and Pangaimotu. This time the topography was mostly flat and unvaried, but the reef and fish were equally stunning. We drove back to the wharf exhausted, content, and exhilarated by an incredible day of diving.

That was adventure number 1. Adventure number 2 is as follows. As I mentioned 6 of the 9 volunteers in Vava’u live on the main island, which means 3 volunteers live on outer islands. Unfortunately, I cannot say which island it is, but the married couple, Mark and Alissa invited all of us out to their island to see their villages – their island has two villages, they live in the one where Alissa teaches and Mark walks to and teaches in the other village (this is a common occurrence for married pcvs) – and to celebrate Marks birthday. 5 of us went, with the only exception being the other married couple, who were sadly too sick to attend.

The first move was to pack all of us, and our stuff, into a Tongan boat from their village. The boats are small, but completely safe as they are the boats that Tongans use to come the main island to shop every week or so. It was a hot sunny day, as it is in Tonga, so I covered myself in sunscreen, a hat, and even a towel or shirt over my head to shield myself from the sun – the last one is a trick I learned from the Tongans.

The ride took around 2 hours but it was absolutely incredible. Moving slowly through the ocean, gazing at the turquoise color blue of the Ocean that only exists in the South Pacific and maybe the Caribbean. The myriad of islands, large and small, that were emerging from the Ocean like magic, as if Atlas was holding them, rather than the world, upon his shoulders.

On the way to the island, we stopped into Swallows Cave. A large cave on the island of Kapa that is big enough to fit a boat through and is absolutely stunning. All of this, mind you, while catching up with other Americans, a rare and special treat.

Upon arriving at the village, this being Friday night, we walked to the house, unloaded our stuff, took a tour of the village, and cooked dinner. At this point I would like to talk a little bit about the villages and how they differ from life on the main island or my village. Life is pretty similar. The houses are the same, and possibly even nicer. The people work in the bush on their farms or fish. There are many churches. The schools are actually nicer and much better equipped as the tourists that travel on their yachts and pass through the islands during the tourist season donate a lot of money and supplies to the schools. The big difference however, is that these villages do not have electricity. The Japanese government is currently undertaking an incredible project where they are providing every house and building on every island with solar power for free – it is amazing to see these solar panels, pillars of technology and the 21^st century, standing next to some of the more dilapidated houses. The project is supposed to be finished in June, and while it cannot provide enough power for fridges, it will supply the island with much needed light.

Returning to my story, we walked around the village, met some of the villagers, and went back to the volunteer’s home, a beautiful Tongan building converted from an old classroom with the chalk board still present, right on the school grounds. Though we could have used the stove, a few of us decided to make a fire in the back yard and cook the burger, chicken franks, fish, and buns on some tin foil and a metal sheet over an empty flame. It was a feast, and we spent the night eating, talking, drinking kava with the men of the village, and, or at least me personally, gazing on our backs to look at some of the greatest collection of visible stars I have ever seen.

Saturday is when the adventure truly began. Our first adventure was to take a boat out to the uninhabited island of Vaka’eitu to snorkel. Remember how I said the beaches were not very good in Tonga? Well, forget about that on the outer islands. The sand in this beach was pristine. Though I knew it was not true, it was easy to believe that I was the first person to ever run my feet through the sand and swim in the crystal clear water. The snorkeling itself was amazing. Probably the best snorkeling I have ever seen. The reef was incredible; there were fish everywhere, and we even tried our hand at spear fishing though none of us came close to catching a fish.

After snorkeling for hours, we ate lunch at that gorgeous beach. Our next stop was the famous Mariners Cave, though we made a quick detour back to Mark’s village to pick up some Tongan high schoolers to help us through the cave. Mariner’s Cave is located on the backside of the island of Nuapapu and is difficult to find. There is no mark to reveal to the world this famous spot, and the cave itself is underwater. To make matters even trickier, the waves were a bit rough.

Before I say anymore, I must first confess. To say I was not a bit nervous, or even, dare I say, scared, would be a lie. I was. Mariner’s Cave is safe but intimidating. The only way to reach the cave is by swimming underwater. The problem is that when you swim into the cave you have no idea how far you need to go or where to emerge, as it is pitch black under the water. The return is much easier as you can see the sun from the outside, but to enter the cave is literally swimming blind.

The Tongans went first to show us how to do it and came back to see if we needed help. I shook off any doubts, took a deep breath, and dove into the blackness where I was told I would eventually find myself in Mariner’s Cave. 10 seconds later, after diving maybe 8 feet down and ten feet across, I was in the cave. Exhilarated that I was still alive, I gazed upon this massive cave that seemed to have appeared out of nothingness. My ears kept popping as the swell of the tide continually changed the pressure in the cave. One by one all of us swam into the cave, proud of making it, and awed by what we were seeing. We spent maybe twenty minutes in that cave, swimming and jumping off the rocks, before taking the much easier route back out of the cave into the open ocean.

Back at the village, exhausted and still stunned, we quickly showered and watched a faiva, or show, that the village had put on to thank and honor us for coming. It was really fun, and very humbling to be treated so well by a village I had never been too before. On Sunday we walked to the other village to see Mark’s school and explore, before returning to the first village to once again be honored by being hosted by the family of the man who had been boating us around with the traditional Sunday lu, cake for Mark’s birthday, and a special puaka tunu, or roast pig.

After that, we returned to the main island on the very slow moving boat, richer from the incredible experience we had all just shared. It was, without a doubt, the best weekend I have had in Tonga, and one that I am eager to experience again.

Thank you all for reading – I know this post was absurdly long. Enjoy the pictures below. These are just some of the one’s I took with my camera, but there should be better ones on Facebook that I will try to get from the other volunteers and post next week.

The view out from inside Swallows Cave

The Faiva the village put on for us

Ready for the sun and the voyage with Mandy. That is the boat we took out to the islands.

The view from Mark's school. Yes, that is sweat. No, I have no shame. In the hot and AC-free Tonga, sweating is a part of life.