The Road Less Traveled : Take Two

I am now entering an interesting time in my Peace Corps Service. Though I have long since passed the one-year mark – 15 months next week – things are finally starting to repeat themselves. Last year, I spent my first two months in training living with a home stay family, and did not arrive in Vava’u until mid-November. When I arrived here last year, unsure of what I was doing and slightly overwhelmed, the class 6 exam was long over and an incredibly relaxed atmosphere had enveloped the school. School was finished by lunchtime. The teachers and I sat around getting to know each other, while the kids played cards and patiently passed the time until they had to practice their cultural dance at the end of the day. There was a definite pattern. It was unstressfully chaotic with kids flying left and right and teachers not caring less, but it was also my indoctrination, my welcome if you will, into my future life as a primary school teacher in Tonga.

One year later, I am right back where I started. The class 6 exam is over. While school has been much more structured than last year, and the kids do not practice their cultural dance nearly as much as we are doing the same dance as the year before, the similarities remain blatant. This sense of déjà vu was particularly strong last week during our regional Tongan Culture day. Last Wednesday, the four schools of the East Region came together to show off the dances they have been practicing for months in front of the Ministry of Education officials, the teachers, and many of the parents.

The Tongan Culture Day last year was the first significant Tongan event I had ever participated in. Helping my kids prepare for their dance last year, I inevitably stuck out as the only non-Tongan in a sea of Tongans. My Tongan was much weaker then and I was still so new that I couldn’t yet tell who was from my village and who wasn’t – an extremely important distinction in a country where knowing where someone lives matter more than knowing their last names. While daunting might be too strong of a description, I was definitely alone at the event in a very literal way.

This year could not be more different. I, after countless regional events, know all of the parents from each of the villages and most of the kids as well. My Tongan has gotten to the point where I no longer embarrass myself. And, this time I wasn’t alone. A newly arrived volunteer now works at one of the schools in my region, making me stick out slightly less, and provide someone to speak English with occasionally and for me to pass on the little advice and understanding I had to offer.

Well, now that’s enough about me. Back to the kids! Back to Tongan Culture Day!

The school was decorated for the event. Flowers were everywhere. Leaves were plucked to wrap around the pillars supporting the school. The children were at their most adorable, wearing traditional Tongan clothes over their school uniforms. The parents’ spread mats everywhere they could find shade – under a tree, behind a water tank, next to a bus, and in front of the school. The kids were ready to perform.

The scene was set. For the next hour four schools, including my own performed their dances. While not as varied as last year’s, when one school dressed their boys in lime green wigs and women’s clothes, the students performed very well. They danced gracefully as the girls performed the ta’ulunga and the boys grappled with fake wooden spears. The teachers and the parents stood behind the dancers, singing the back up music and banging on their “drums.” And of course, adults walked around stuffing small dollar bills into the students’ clothes as a gesture of support and praise for the performance.

As my words cannot accurately portray the dancing or bring to life the actions of the precocious children, I have posted photos below. As always, thank you for reading and I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving!