Kapa

My plan for this post was to discuss the weekend I just spent on the outer island of Kapa with my school’s principal and her family. I will do this, but as I was enjoying myself over the weekend, I realized that my current experience was more than just an adventure, it was representative of two core features of Tonga. Nothing happens as it is planned and nothing happens how you – or at least I – expect it.

My principal, Selu, had told me to meet her in town at 12 pm Saturday, and then we would drive together South to ‘Ano beach on Pangaimotu, which is a separate island connected to the main island of Vava’u by a causeway, and take a boat to her village. For reference sake, Kapa is the name of a large island that has 3 villages on it, Kapa, Falevai, and ‘Otea, each several kilometers away from each other. Selu lives in the village of Kapa on the island of Kapa.

As I have mentioned before, nothing happens on time in Tonga. Life here very much exists on island time or as we say in Tongan, taimi faka-Tonga. At 11:30 I was hanging out with one of the other volunteers in town, preparing to meet at the prearranged spot at 12, but assuming that she probably would not pick me up until 1 at the earliest. I was therefore shocked to see my principle calling at 11:30, and telling me that she was waiting for me at the bank. Also, as another point of information, my principal does not speak great English but understands it well so we often speak in Tongan, Tonglish, or she speaks in Tongan and I reply in English.

Not wanting to be late, I rushed to the bank. I looked around for a few minutes, did not see her, and sat down to wait. In hindsight I should have realized, “I am already here,” in Tongan actually means I am leaving my house in 45 minutes, and I was picked up by one of her relatives at 12:30. Much to my surprise we did not drive towards ‘Ano beach, but instead drove for a few minutes to another part of town, and parked outside a house. My principal walked out of the house, wearing all black, and beckoned me to come.

I entered the backyard and was immediately immersed in swarms of Tongans wearing black. My first realization was that I was at a funeral and my second that I was quite inappropriately dressed – I was wearing shorts and a button down shirt. I sat down in the back with Selu, and watched as people entered the house and exited crying, which I assumed meant that people were paying their respects to the dead body, as is done in Tonga. For 30 minutes, nothing much really happened. Selu explained that the deceased woman was from Kapa, and kept saying osi vave pe, which means it will be finished quickly. As is also done in Tonga, I was offered a lot of food, so I simply sat back, ate, and accepted the reality that I was in Tonga and we would leave when we left.

Around 1 p.m., Selu told me to follow her. We hopped into a van, and drove to the Catholic Church on the other side of town, which to be fair is not very far. I asked Selu what we were doing and she responded that we were waiting, in Tongan. Seizing the moment, I put on my tupenu and my tao’vala (In American terms my skirt and mat) and waited. At 2 p.m. a huge procession, with a police escort in front, followed by the band from Keilana the Catholic high school, the body wrapped in Tongan mats and cloth, and the guests of the funeral, approached the church. The men lifted the mats, carrying the woman inside as if it was a casket and they were pallbearers. I followed them into the church, and for the next hour I observed my very first Catholic service.

The service ended at 3 and I finally thought we were finished. Of course I was wrong. The men picked up the body, and carried it back to the car. The procession then winded its way towards the Catholic cemetery. For the next hour I watched a woman whom I had never met be buried, feeling entirely out of place and somewhat disrespectful for taking part in such an emotional ceremony. No one else seemed to care however. At 4, the funeral was over, and as Selu guided me back to her car I finally thought we would be on our way.

Nope. Her husband, Ini, did not come back to the car until 4:30. We then headed back to their house to collect the rest of the family and the food. There is more to this saga, but as this post is already reaching essay-like proportions and I haven’t even reached the island, I will simply mention that it was not until 6 pm, 6 hours behind schedule, that we stepped on the boat and headed to Kapa.

The boat ride only took 20 minutes and we arrived at the wharf in Kapa in the darkness. The village is at the top of a hill, so we hiked up, using our flash lights to guide us, and headed towards Selu’s house. On arrival, Ini, took off his shirt, grabbed a pillow, placed a mat on the floor, and fell instantly asleep snoring louder than any person I have ever heard. The rest of the night was spent eating a dinner, which they called Tongan tea, of bread and butter, crackers, and cookies. After we ate I helped Selu’s high school aged daughter with her biology homework – I was glad to see my 1/3 of a year’s biology instruction in high school really paying off! All of this, of course, was only possible because of the solar power the Japanese government had installed just several weeks earlier, flooding the house with light. I went to bed at the early hour of ten, failing to fall asleep only because I was 3 feet from Ini and the snores were deafening.

The next morning, Sunday, was quintessential Tonga. Selu graciously let me sleep in and avoid the 5 am Wesleyan Church service. I woke up at 7, got ready, and then went to the hall with Ini to drink kava until the 10 O’clock service started. We drank kava for 2 hours, joking in Tongan as I struggled to hold my own and follow the conversation, with the only interruption being a 10-minute break to eat crackers and cake that I assumed was for the Father’s Day that Tonga celebrated last Sunday.

The rest of the day followed in typical Tongan fashion. The 10 am service ended at 11. Afterwards, I drank kava until one of the men asked me if I wanted to travel with him to one of the other villages, Falevai, and I hopped in the back of his cart.  Though he drove a new looking red tractor, the cart was so old and wooden I kept imagining myself riding on top of a potato cart being pulled by a sturdy horse in 18^th century Europe. The tropical scenery, however, did not match my imagination.

At Falevai, I toured around, walked to the beach, and was amazed by the beauty. From Falevai, I could see maybe 6 of Vava’u’s many islands. The water was the beautiful blue turquoise that I only believe exists in the South Pacific and maybe the Caribbean. Several yachts, parked just off the island, were there, having arrived early for the Vava’u tourist and yacht season, which is just beginning now. The scene was breathtaking. It was like looking at a traveling magazine. Since in my day-to-day life I do not see the ocean or other islands and I do live in a poor and developing country, I sometimes forget that I also live in a tropical paradise. I forgot how physically stunning Vava’u truly is. On this day, I was quickly reminded.

To end this essay, I spent the rest of the day eating, attending the 3 pm church service, and drinking kava before heading back the main island at 6 pm. It was a great trip, and I am incredibly grateful to Selu for inviting me to her island. She has also welcomed me to come back whenever I want to, which is extremely generous.

Thanks for reading. I apologize for the length of this post, but I just had too much to say this week! 

To prove I was actually there. This is the view from Falevai. You can see several different islands in the background, including the small, uninhabited, and beautiful island of Nuku in the back left. The boats that are close to me are the Tongan village boats, and the boats in the distance are the yachts/sail boats.

Leaving Kapa. The village of Kapa is right next to the tower sticking out on top of the right side of the island. Ini is driving the boat, my principal Selu is on the right, and their daughter's back is towards us in the middle.

Hauling the boat in to begin our trip to Kapa.

The beach at Falevai

The view from Kapa of a nearby island