The Road Less Traveled : It’s That Time of The Year Again

Three things are absolute in Tonga: eating, sleeping, and church. Two of those things, eating and church, are epitomized every year at the Misinale. The word Misinale literally translates to missionary but it often refers to the annual fundraisers each village holds every year for the church. Some of you may remember my post about the church fundraiser from last November. You are forgiven if you do not. Last year, in one of the first weeks after my arrival from training on the main island to Vava’u, I attended the fundraiser at one of my villages. While I went to the Misinale in one village, I arrived after my other two villages, including the village I live in, had held theirs. Several weeks ago, I was finally able to attend the Misinale at one of the villages I had missed last year.

Though church fundraisers are held by every denomination in Tonga, I am most familiar with the Wesleyan Church and my post today will focus on the Wesleyan’s Misinale. The Church fundraisers are completely different from the normal services. There are no sermons, and few prayers and hymns. Everyone sits in their pews waiting for the never-ending passing of collection boxes. Every few minutes several women, who for some reason are dressed in ridicules outfits walk around the church to collect as men, women, and children drop 1, 2, and 5 dollar bills into the collection. At this particular Misinale one woman wore a Santa Clause style fake beard and another wore a blue wig. One trick I learned from one of my neighbors, which is quite useful, is to make sure to have small bills before you attend any fundraiser. The night before, knowing what lay ahead, I made sure to acquire 10 $1 bills so that I could put some money into the box every few times the women passed by. As my neighbor correctly asserted, the trick is to allow everyone to see that you are contributing, but not bankrupting yourself in the process.

However, bankruptcy is exactly what happens. The money that goes into the collection boxes is nothing compared to money each family has to donate to the members of the church who, seated at a table right in front of all the pews, count and announce the amount of the donation to the entire village. There is absolutely no anonymity. Every family is expected to donate at least $1,000, with many contributing significantly more. Anything less than $1,000 would bring shame on behalf of the family.

This is a lot of money in Tonga. Many families do not have a single member with a paying job, and instead support themselves through their farms and money sent from family members living overseas. Even for the people who do have jobs in Tonga, very few jobs provide enough money to allow for such a large contribution. The vast majority of this money given to church is from money sent from family overseas in places like New Zealand, Australia, and California, Texas, Arizona, and Utah in the US. Ironically, very little of this money remains with and is used by the village congregation, but is instead sent to Church’s headquarters on the main island and even to the countries mentioned above. This creates a constant cycle of money from overseas being sent to family in Tonga yet never the less ending up in the churches from the very countries the money was sent from. It seems that only Western Union – yes, that still exists here – profits from such an arrangement.

My village is very small and only raised around $26, 000. This is a significant expenditure for the small community, and is a large percentage of their annual income. Another volunteer, attended a Misinale on the same day I did in the larger village of Tu’anekivale, and told me they made over $60,000. In Tonga, these fundraisers are no laughing matter.

As is always the case, any event in Tonga must be accompanied with food, and often in copious amounts. After the three hour Misinale, a tent was set up in front of the church, and lines of tables were stacked with food. All of the staples were there – fried fish, sweet and sour chicken, hot dogs, lu, root crops, beef with vegetables, deviled eggs, noodles, raw fish, and much much more. After the initial prayer, everyone gorged on the food, while listening to the fakamalos (thank you speeches). One of the elderly women gave an incredibly generous falamalo on my behalf, which was very touching. After the service, the women sitting next to me piled heaps of food into plastic bags for me, ensuring that I would not need to worry about food for the entire week ahead. It was a money-and-eating-filled-day, and I now I just have to wait for my other two villages to conduct their Misinales in October and November respectively.

Thank you for reading and please enjoy the photos.