As some of you may remember, I had a memorable rat/mouse incident last year, and to really come full circle, I want to share a few tales of my dealings with the rodents of Tonga in 2010.

Right before my parents arrived I noticed I was, once again, being invaded by rodents. I tried the usual remedies: keeping all food in the refrigerator, which just made my bread cold, and bringing over my neighbor’s cat, which simply resulted in cat poop in my house and two very long nights of Mui Mui and the cat crying and fighting. Sarah was in Tonga, so, unable to come up with another solution, I asked her to pick up some rat poison for me. She kindly did, and I set the blocks of rodent death up in my ceiling where the rats had taken up residence.

After a few days, I started to see results. First, the mouse droppings disappeared. Then, when I woke up one morning I was met with a giant dead rat on my bathroom floor. I screamed, called Lupe over, and we measured: 12 inches…ugh. We then both decided we did not want to touch it, so called for a high school boy who lives nearby to come and dispose of the rat. Fotu thought it was awesome and Tupou kept sympathizing with the dead rat and telling me how faka’ofa it was.

A couple of days later, there were no visible signs of rodent life: victory was at hand! However, that’s when I started to smell something. The first day it was faint, and I couldn’t quite place it. The following day, Lupe came over and, using our olfactory powers, we determined there was something very dead in my ceiling. Now, my ceiling is essentially plywood boards nailed over rafters, which makes it impossible to see up into it unless you take the boards down. Le’o was called over and told to bring a hammer, and Fotu and Tupou accompanied him. The five of us sniffed around my house and concluded the smell was coming from above the bathroom, the smallest room by far. We pulled down some of the boards, brought a chair over from the school, and using a mirror and flashlight tried to look inside, but it was dark, and we couldn’t maneuver around the toilet and get high enough up into the ceiling to find anything. Finally, Le’o decided that the only way to find the rat was to pick me up and have me sit on his shoulders to I could get up into the ceiling with the mirror and flashlight. I’m realizing now, while typing this that this story isn’t going to sounds as ridiculous as it actually was, but bear with me. Now, in Tonga, men, especially married men, do not really associate at all with single women, never mind touch them. For example, when Le’o and I walk somewhere together, we walk on completely opposite sides of the road. So the fact that he was picking me up was mortifying enough. Add to that looking for a dead rat with a mirror and flashlight in the ceiling of a small bathroom, and you may be able to get an idea of how absurd the situation was. After a while we still hadn’t found anything, and were about to give up, when Fotu found the dead rat: outside in the opening of the pipe that serves as my shower drain. The pipe had been conducting the decaying rat inside and up into the bathroom. I’ve never seem Le’o so embarrassed, or red, and after that, he didn’t even talk to me for almost a week! (Not in a mean way, just in a very Tongan and embarrassed way.)

My second (and hopefully last) rodent tale happened when my parents were here. Tim had gone for one of his early morning length-of-the-island walks, and Robin and I were making breakfast when I saw a mouse. I managed to trap it under a bowl in the bathroom but since neither of us wanted to kill it, I went over to the school and asked some of the boys to come and dispose of it. Well, this was too exciting an offer to pass up, and within minutes, all of the class 6 boys were sprinting toward my house, armed with sticks and rocks and wearing boxes and empty milk cartons on their heads; they had been playing solider. They burst in and immediately accidently set the mouse free and then spent the better part of a half an hour chasing it around my house, all of them screaming and laughing and giving detailed battle instructions. Fotu, of course, followed them- who’d want to miss out on this excitement!?- and was very helpful in shouting out exactly what everyone should be doing and when. Finally, after tearing apart the kitchen, they recaptured the poor mouse, and, holding it by the tail, marched out victoriously.

With any luck, I’ll make it through the next few weeks without any more serious rodent encounters, but, all in all, despite the damage they’ve caused mice and rats and the world’s dumbest cat have made for some pretty entertaining tales over the last two years.

Immediately after Camp GLOW finished, I rushed back to my house, and spent the next 36 hours frantically cleaning and doing laundry to prepare for…my parents! Tim and Robin came to visit me in my village, and if you think I was excited to have them here, it was nothing compared to how thrilled my neighbor, Lupe, was. She had been preparing for their visit for months and truly outdid her normally amazing hospitality. Lupe and ‘Alisi, her mother, made beautiful flower/leaf necklaces to greet my parents, and send the children with me to wait at the airport while they prepared some special Tongan food in the ‘umu. The plane was a little delayed, but finally it landed, and Robin made a bit of a scene running across the runway (or so I was told- all my neighbors were watching from their backyard). Even though their bags were somewhere in NZ, they were happy to be here, and off of planes, and we headed back to my house to rest and eat the first of many many meals.

In a truly Tongan start to their time here, our first night was spent at a massive feast. A deacon was ordained at the Catholic church in town, and Catholics (and feast-loving non-Catholics) from all the islands in Ha’apai came in to Pangai for the event. Lupe took great care dressing all of us up in her Tongan finest, although I’m not sure how wild Tim was about wearing a skirt and Robin about wearing a mat. In town, there was a big fancy mass with the Bishop of Tonga and all the Tongan priests and nuns, complete with beautiful, if somewhat competitive choir singing. This was followed by the largest feast I’ve ever attended. Seriously. Luckily, I convinced Lupe to let us all sit at the back and one of the less intimidating tables, where we could watch the entertainment from a comfortable distance. The food was a great introduction to Tonga: shellfish, octopus, taro, sweet potato, chicken, pork, beef, fish- it was all there. There were many traditional Tongan dances, which were beautiful, especially a very ceremonial and formal one depicting the making of kava. It was a lovely, if somewhat overwhelming, first day in Tonga, and I’m really glad my parents got to see some true Tongan celebration.

After finally getting our luggage we headed out to Uoleva to stay at Patti’s resort for a few nights. The island really is my favorite place in Tonga, and we had a lovely time relaxing on the beach and in the pillow huts. Tim really enjoyed the hammocks, and slept in one at night, even in the rain. We saw a humpback whale off the shore on our last evening, which was beautiful and incredible. We had to stay an extra night, which we were more than fine with, because Ha’apai experienced a slight fuel shortage when the fuel ship stopped running for a few weeks (two men died aboard because of a gas leak of some sort and one of the men was the son of the owner of the boat so it couldn’t run while the extended funeral took place). It was a perfect relaxing break, especially after the stress of the camp, and we all had a lovely time.

When we got back to my village, Tim quickly established himself as a siana ngaue (man who likes to work) and siana fakamalohisino (and man who likes to exercise). Although the Tongans didn’t really understand why anyone would wake up early and walk to town just to walk and go swimming everyday even though it was winter, they really enjoyed watching him do these things, and then, of course, talking about it. Once his ridiculous obsession with coconuts was discovered, people started stopping by to give him or my neighbors coconuts to drink and eat, and of course, to laugh at the fact that anyone would be so enamored with coconuts, something that’s absolutely everywhere here. The boys at my school were thrilled to have a new palangi to play and swim with and Tupou, my almost 3-year old neighbor, quickly realized she could get anything she wanted from him by looking adorable and yelling “Timi!” and then slipping in hints like “I’m hungry”. The language barrier didn’t even matter as she just pointed to things she wanted and took anything she was offered! Leo, my neighbor, was also excited to have a man to hang out with, and was kind enough to let Tim accompany him to work in the bush, something my father is very very proud of, and to drink kava. He even enlisted his help in killing pigs to roast, which was pretty fun, apparently.

Robin and I took a much more low key approach, going to walks on the beach, to see the land bridge, and into town. We spent a lot of time cooking and reading and relaxing, and even ran my ever popular cake baking lesson with class 6 one afternoon. While Tim, who will eat pretty much anything, was thrilled to devour all sorts of Tongan delicacies, Robin had one memorable barrier when presented with a pig leg complete with a little hoof sticking up. Yes, it was pretty funny. While Tupou was on a mission to charmingly exploit Tim, Fotu made it his duty to teach Robin Tongan and spent hours pointing things out to her and patiently correcting her pronunciation, all of which she promptly forgot. This was nothing compared to the difficulty Tim had remembering my neighbors names, and Fotu became Frodo for the better part of the first week! Robin also made another friend: Kava, my neighbors’ 7 month old and 30 pound baby. He is still the most adorable baby ever, and definitely the fattest one. Lupe made sure to bring Kava over for Robin, who she is convinced is very sad inside because she doesn’t have any grandchildren yet. These sentiments were always expressed with a meaningful look at me, since she, as she keeps reminding me, had her first child when she was 25.

As a break from our very laid back time in Koulo, we went whale watching one day with Brian and Sabina, which was awesome. Although we didn’t see any whales, we did get to hear them with a special underwater microphone, and we stopped off a few times to go snorkeling. Tim and Robin loved it, and we saw some beautiful fish and coral and even a little reef shark. I enjoyed it too, but I was freezing- it was winter! We also took a little trip up to Foa to hang out at the beach one afternoon and eat at Matafounua.

After 2 weeks, it was time to head to Tongatapu so my parents could go back to America. Lupe and her family prepared a ridiculous amount of gifts, which added to the crazy Tongan gift-giving circle: Tim and Robin initially brought some presents for my neighbors when they came; Lupe prepared obscene amounts of food and Leo killed a pig to thank them; my parents bought some special foods and ice cream to thank them; Lupe and her mother made many incredibly beautiful Tongan handicrafts: fans, bags, wall hangings for my parents, brother, and sister; I bought them a stroller in Tongatapu to thank them for the pig…oh Tonga, it never ends!

In Tonga we stayed at a snazzy higher end hotel with real showers with hot water(!) and thanks to the kindness of my friend and her wonderful boyfriend went on a mad sun-set tour of the main island (our plane was delayed coming in…of course). We managed to see the Ha’amonga (big mysterious stone archway) before the sun set and surprisingly were able to see a fair amount of the blow holes in the dark under the stars, which may have made it more incredible. On their last day in Tonga, we went shopping for handicrafts and jewelry and canned powered milk…don’t ask! Luckily, Monica’s mom was on the same flight back to LA and we all drove to the airport in a van from her school.

I am so glad my parents were able to visit, and I really think they enjoyed their time here. It was really nice “seeing” Tonga from someone else’s perspective. Since I’ve been here for a bit, I don’t always appreciate how beautiful it is, and how kind and loving the people are. It was nice, especially after a big project and heading into my final few months, to re-realize how lucky I am to be here, and what an amazing place this is. I also realized how many of the cultural customs I’ve internalized, and don’t even think about. Because of this, I think I may have done a less than stellar job of preparing my parents for certain events, but it was pretty interesting to see that the things I first struggles with, I don’t even think about now. I loved having my parents here, and I’m just so glad they were able to see where I’ve been and meet the people who have become so important to me!

Well, this update is long overdue, and to be honest, I’m not sure why it’s taken me so long to write. To start with, Camp GLOW was incredible! It was an amazing program and a wonderful, if exhausting, week, and I’m really proud that we were able to pull this off. The girls all loved the camp, and I think everyone involved learned a lot.

The week leading up to the actual camp was definitely the most stressful week I’ve had in the almost 2 years I’ve been in Tonga. Not everything was planned (in fact, most session weren’t), a key Tongan who we were really relying on bailed and hadn’t done anything she said she’d done for a few months, and about half of the campers dropped out for one reason or another. This being a new program, I think some parents were hesitant about allowing their daughters to join, leading to excuses like “my daughter is not allowed to attend because she has to stay home and do the cooking.” Yikes…

Anyways, working with another volunteer who is coordinating all the camps and her amazing counterpart, we were able to get almost everything into place, and we started the first ever Camp GLOW Ha’apai as scheduled, albeit an hour or so late given the “Tongan time” factor for everyone to arrive! We ended up with 15 campers: 13 girls in form 3 (9th grade) and 2 “youth” (girls who finished high school), 4 PCVs, and 4 Tongan ‘counselors’ as our core camp group. We were also lucky enough to have 4 amazing women with connections to the Wesleyan school we used who served as our caterers, and I really do owe them my life- without all their help, we never could have pulled anything off, or dealt with the occasional Wesleyan roadblocks we encountered during the week.

We started the week off focusing on goal setting and planning and motivation to achieve goals. This was a new concept to the girls and most of the counselors, and we spent a lot of time throughout the week revisiting and revising personal, professional, and educational goals and laying out the steps needed to attain them. We were lucky enough to have some amazing guest speakers come to our camp to run sessions. A really incredible woman from a bank here came and taught the girls about budgeting and savings, something that’s a real issue here, and the focus of the bank’s nation-wide educational initiative. We enlisted the help of a female lawyer, who taught the girls (and me!) about the rights women and children have under Tongan law and about different movements in the South Pacific to try and get countries like Tonga to agree the U.N.’s human rights laws.

We also had two women from incredible NGOs in Nuku’alofa: the Women and Children Crisis Center, which helps fight domestic violence and abuse, runs a safe house for battered and at risk women and children, lobby parliament, and run trainings, and Tonga Family Health Association, which does a lot of education and outreach on HIV/AIDS and sexual health, a pretty taboo topic here. These women ran sessions on Women’s Health, Sexual Health, and Sexual Harassment, all of which the girls had had little exposure to before the camp. We did all sorts of risqué stuff like touch condoms, talk about sex, and reinforce the idea that it’s not ok for men to sexually harass women. Writing that, I realized it doesn’t sound like a lot, but, especially for Ha’apai, this was pretty ground-breaking.

While the camp was happening, word spread though the NGO channels, and mid-week I got a call from the Tongan branch of the Salvation Army- they had heard about our program and offered to come and run a workshop of Drugs and Alcohol and Anger Management, both of which were wonderful! We also had the support of the local Police Domestic Violence Unit, which has a female officer in Ha’apai who came to meet with the girls, and various businesses, who hosted a few girls one morning to show them the career opportunities available to them here and provide examples of successful females in the workplace.

The camp was by no means all work, although we did spend quite a bit of time in the classroom. We also felt strongly about incorporating healthy lifestyle factors and creative expression into Camp GLOW, things that girls in Tonga really aren’t exposed to. Physically, we did some dancing and aerobics along with stretching/flexibility and relay races, and, a camp favorite, swimming at the wharf. We also did a lot of team building exercises, including trust falls (a bit scary, I’ll admit!) an afternoon with a parachute: a real crowd pleaser. On the arts and crafts end we made team posters to decorate our dormitory, tie-dyed t-shirts, and made a camp banner. It was really fun watching the girls get to use the art supplies we take for granted back home- they were all so excited and they looked awesome in their t-shirts.

For night activities we held a beach camp fire one night, which was a fun escape, watched “Mulan” in the dorm on a giant projector screen (sheet), had a “Club GLOW” dance party complete with strobe lights, and even had two of the girls dress up as pop stars and audition for “Digicel Star”, a Tongan knock-off of American Idol sponsored by a communication services company and being filmed by a fellow PCV!

To cap off the week, we had a program for family and friends where the girls performed skits and a dance, received awards and certificates, give speeches, and, of course, ate lots of food. It was really great watching the girls on the last day and seeing how special this experience was. Most of them didn’t want to leave and kept asking to stay one more night (something the extremely sleep deprived side of me wasn’t going to allow) and almost all of them begged to be allowed to come back next year as junior counselors. All in all, it was just incredible.

To be honest, as a pilot program, we ran into more than our fair share of obstacles and learned a lot from everything. But, this isn’t the time or place to get into that. Really, it only means the upcoming camps in other island groups and next year’s Camp GLOW Ha’apai will be even better! This camp and working with these girls was by far the most important thing I’ve done here, and has been such a phenomenal experience. The girls we were able to spend a week with really are the future leaders, and it was wonderful to watch them learn so much and grow of the course of just one week. Setting up a grass-roots program like this around Tonga really will change the future of this country. I know that sounds corny and cliché but I do think it’s true. The best way for developing countries to change their course is to invest in education, especially for girls, and seeing what 15 girls in Ha’apai are able to do if pushed, it makes me very optimistic.

I truly couldn’t have made Camp GLOW happen without help from all of you. To all of you who helped me work out details, listened to me vent/be crazy, spread the word about the camp, donated online, and understood when I made this a priority above other things, thank you. I can’t express how grateful I am for all the support I received, and how integral it was to the success of the program. In summation, Camp GLOW Ha’apai was a “glowing” success (I know, I couldn’t help myself) and an amazing experience!

Hello Lovely Blog Readers,

Yes, I am still alive! Yes, Camp GLOW happened! Yes, it was incredible! Really really incredible! And, I promise, that within a week I will have my summation post finished and online to tell you all about just how awesome it was! But, until then, I have, for your viewing pleasure, an article from the Women and Children Crisis Center's newsletter, one of the local organizations who had a guest speaker from. I know this is just Tongan press, but it's still pretty amazing.

http://www.wccc.tbu.to/news/light-shines-on-young-girls-of-tonga/

For the past 6 months I have been working on trying to have a Camp GLOW here in Ha’apai, and have slowly been losing my sanity and probably my pride, as I have been desperately begging any and everyone for money and cutting the budget for this project left and right. To supplement the amazingly generous donations from all you incredible readers, we realized we would have to do some local fundraising, as we should, given that it’s a program in Tonga to help Tongan girls. Immediately, we decided to run a BINGO fundraiser- BINGO is very big here, despite the Tongan alphabet not containing the letters “b” or “g”, especially among Catholics (some things really are universal!). But, scheduling conflicts and activities in the church kept pushing us back, and while we’re still going to do the fundraiser 2 days before the camp starts (!) we realized we would have to run another one in addition to asking businesses for donations.

Enter kava, the preeminent form of Tongan fundraising, an activity I have been actively avoiding participating in (remember me hiding in various places around the school during the class 6 exam last year to get out of kava?) since I was forced into doing it during our training and had a miserable experience. It’s not that I actively hate kava, it’s more that I in no way want to be taking part in it. Drinking kava is a men-only activity, except if a woman agrees to sit alone at the head of the circle and ladle out copious amounts of the appetizing water and be the brunt of flirtations and jokes, a position known as the toa. Now, and here’s where it gets pretty funny, a woman can only toa if she is not related to any of the men who will be there drinking kava. This being a small island society where absolutely everyone is related, it’s very difficult now to find someone to toa without having to ban half the kava group- part of the appeal of having a foreigner toa. All of you, I’m sure, are shocked as to why I haven’t been jumping up and down to take part in this.

But, as the cliché saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures, which is how I found myself last Friday night downing a bottle of pretty good wine (especially for Tonga) with Juleigh, the volunteer I’m organizing this camp with, in the convent where she lives (yes, convent with nuns) finding out that while Tongans are late for absolutely everything, they somehow show up 30 minutes early when it’s kava with palangi toas. Why the wine you ask? Well, as organizer of the kalapu I would be required to stay for the entire time, from 8:30ish to 1:00am (a harder task than you may think, given that I’m used to being in bed by 10:30) and it was general consensus that a good wine buzz would be fairly essential to make the first few hours bearable.

The rules of the relationship between the kava circle and the toa are pretty simple: the woman serves the kava to the men, and the men, in turn, are supposed to amuse her and make sure she is having a good time. The man sitting to the left of the toa has the expressed responsibility of making sure she is happy, and in traditional Tongan culture, this is how a date happened: a girl would toa and the boy she was interested in would deliberately sit next to her on the left. The man to the left of the toa is required to stay as long as she does, and fill in any lapses in amusement form the group at large with conversation. This previously mentioned amusement can take the form of jokes, stories, (muscle flexing contests, in the instance of the circle I was in) and music.

When Juleigh and I arrived at the hall we found it already filled with men from various kava kalapus (kava groups/clubs). Most men in every community belong to a kava group. Some of them only drink kava on Sundays and special occasions, but most of them are ‘savings groups’ and meet to drink kava at least once a week on a week day. Since Tonga is a communal society and you’re required to give anything to anyone who asks, especially your family, it’s often difficult to save money (something we’re having a big session on at our camp: Budgeting and Savings!). The way the savings kava groups work is that each week/month/predetermined period of time, one man takes home all the money that has been contributed up until then; generally each man pays $5-10 to drink kava for the night. To get a large number of people to come to our event, we went around to every kava group on our island and asked them to come to our fundraiser, essentially by-passing a night of one of their members going home with their money. We would provide the kava, since we were hosting the event, and they would come and donate their group’s intake from the night. This is a big thing to ask for, but the turnout was amazing. Hoping out of the back of the truck we had hitch-hiked to the hall in, I was shocked to find myself staring at over 200 men from 8 different kava clubs, all of whom had come to our fundraiser.

I was seated in the Ha’apai High School kava circle, which somehow included men and youth from the village next to mine. There were about 30 men in my circle, all of whom were very happy I was there, and took great delight in teaching me (and listening to me butcher) elaborate and traditionally appropriate phrases to say in Tongan thanking the men for drinking kava and playing and singing for me. The best part about the evening, by far, was the music. Because men came in their clubs, there was a little bit of competition with the added need to thoroughly entertain and amuse the palangi toas (along with Juleigh and I, another volunteer and her friend from home who was visiting and a Japanese volunteer came and toa-ed!) and most of the groups came with a fair number of guitars and ukuleles. My group even brought a binder of music, and for this special occasion, deviated from the usual repertoire and played some amazing traditional songs. Because of these factors, the night was a continuous rotation of songs played by the different kava clubs, and it was beautiful and amazing. It still shocks me every time of group of men, most of whom work in the bush and come in their work clothes, collectively open their mouths and sing. It’s incredible. My group had two guitars, three ukuleles, and it was lovely and made the night far better than anticipated. Also, because so many different groups came there were quite a few priests and ministers and town officers and other well-respected men, and that gave the whole event an air of being important and special, and as a result none of the teasing or joking really degraded into inappropriateness.

As a fundraising effort, we did very well: all told we raised $650 pa’anga (Tongan dollars) after having paid $400 for all the kava that was drunk (yes, these men can drink kava) and $50 to rent the hall. What was even better though was the turn-out and support. It was really encouraging and it makes me very thankful to be in such a place where, when push comes to shove, the community will rally around a project to make it happen. And, while I’m not exactly rushing to toa again, it was a far better experience than I thought it would be, and having 200 men serenade you beautifully is not something one forgets.

So, the countdown is on. We have 8 days until the camp and need to raise $1000 pa’anga, which I really think we can do. Wish us luck, and I’ll be sure to post after Camp GLOW is over and tell you all about it!

In April (I know, I’m a bit behind with this post), I was lucky enough to have my second visitor to Koulo, Ha’apai, the lovely and elusive globe-trotter, Miss Lauren Eriks! The trip was a bit last-minute, completely unexpected and absolutely wonderful. Lauren and her friend were spending 4 months traveling around New Zealand, and we’d been tossing around the idea of her coming over here, but there was nothing definite set. Then, after almost two weeks of no internet connection, I happened to go into town to check my email and got a great surprise: having found a great deal on airline tickets, Lauren just bought the ticket in the perfect traveler, and Tongan, frame of mind that things would work out. And they did- amazingly!

Lauren landed in Tongatapu in the evening, meaning she had to spend the night in town before getting a domestic flight the following afternoon. Some wonderful volunteers offered up their home and hospitality and provided a crucial cell phone link for the next day. In the morning I called the airline office to confirm her flight to Ha’apai, and was told the flight was canceled because the plane, once again, was broken. She was booked on the “big plane” via Vava’u, but this flight was now no longer going…maybe. I talked to three different people and got three different answers as to whether or not there was a plane. I got an extensive list of phone numbers for the airline, called them all, and was getting nowhere. Then I called the direct supervisor at the airport in Tonga, who told me there would be one plane to Ha’apai only in an hour and a half. After much begging and pleading I got a seat on the plane under the condition that the passenger be at the airport in less than an hour… meaning I somehow had to track down Lauren (who had no phone) and get her to the airport fast! Cue me calling the aforementioned amazing volunteers who found her, put her in a taxi, and got her to the airport in time to make the flight!

It was so lovely having Lauren here, and getting to show her the “sights” of Ha’apai, my school and village, and, of course, catching up. Since we hadn’t seen each other in almost 3 years, we had quite a bit to catch up on, and it was great having someone to talk to about everything with- the first day my mouth was actually sore from speaking English so much in one day (English consonants use very different muscles than Tongan vowels)! The kids at school and my neighbors loved having a new palangi around, especially Tupou and Fotu, who took full advantage of the new friend who would play with them and pay attention to them, and the two of them were over almost every day to eat cake, color, and play endless games of ‘hit the balloon’, which they still talk about.

We did a lot of nofo ia pe (just hanging out) and cooking/eating (obviously!) and talking about food and sustainable food culture and activism and being cajoled by Mui Mui into petting him and playing with him. We also went swimming with the neighbors and quite a few of the kids from the village one evening, which was fun and amazingly picturesque, took a bike ‘eva to the liku side of the island and prevented my dog from being trampled by a herd of cows he wanted to play with, and went down to Uoleva for 2 days, which was beautiful. We were able to help one of the resort owners set up plans and to do lists for her vegetable garden in exchange for staying there for the night, and it was, as always, relaxing and gorgeous. My neighbors also invited us to do Sunday with them, which meant we were able to get up and help make the lū, including possibly the first ever all vegetable lū in Koulo, see the ‘umu, and were dressed up by my neighbor in taovalas (woven mats) and tupenus for church.

The only down-side was that the week went by far too fast; I had such a wonderful time. That being said, I am keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that I’ll have a few more surprise visitors before I leave in December! [Check out Lauren’s blog for some beautiful photos of her time in Tonga: http://interestinglyno.blogspot.com/2010/04/fakatonga.html]

The first Sunday of May is“Faka-Mē” the Children’s Sunday in the Wesleyan church. Some of you may remember my participation last year in the event, culminating in the embarrassed reading of a church hymn with a 5-year old…dark times for my self-esteem in the village. This year, I graciously declined an offer to read a ‘lesson’, and instead volunteered my talents as official photographer of the children, dressed to the nines in any and everything white, lacy, and preferably with feathers, much to the delight of the mothers as many families don’t have cameras or cell phones with cameras.

Sarah, another volunteer from the next island up, joined me for the first half of the day-long program, and it was nice to have a feast companion to play “guess that mystery meat” with (even if two palangais meant there was no way to avoid sitting at the head table) and share observations about the adorable kids with. Lupe, along with her mother, sister, and other extended family members, pulled out all the stops for their table at the feast, and the two of us have gotten quite efficient at baking dozens of cakes at a time. They also completely outdid themselves, weaving two new mats for each of the children to wear, and creating an entire woven traditional Tongan outfit for Fotu, complete with woven slippers (sandals). Fotu looked good, and he knew it, and strutted around most of the morning telling everyone how handsome he looked in his Tongan slippers!

In the morning church service, some of the children read hymns and sang songs, and then everyone went to the church hall for the feast. After a quick wash and costume change, the kids and proud family members came back to the church for the real “lessons”. There were recitations, hymns, action songs, and dramatic re-tellings of biblical and biblical-based stories. My favorite, by far, was the drama about Roman-era persecution of Christians in a time that fluctuated between ancient and modern. Lines such as “I heard on the radio that the Romans are persecuting Christians” were married with ‘finger-gun’ carrying soldiers wonderfully. The plot centered around a family that decided not to renounce their religion, despite radio warnings, and were all killed. What made it interesting was how funny the audience found it every time someone was ‘shot’ by a solider (complete with “bang” sound effects) and that after each death, a hymn had to be sung for the deceased as they were covered in white cloths. The hymn singing did mean that it took the better part of a half hour to kill an entire family of four.

It’s been interesting revisiting these annual events, and thinking about how much my experiences have varied from year to year. The biggest change, by far, is that I can understand a lot more because my language has improved, so this year, for example, I understood why people were being shot during a church play!

Dear Family and Friends,

Despite, the recent lack of blog posts and email updates, I’ve been pretty busy. My last year in Tonga is flying by (as my 5 year old neighbor constantly reminds me: “Alisi, this is your last EVER [insert event here, be it important or mundane] in Tonga!” [cue me tearing up]) and I’m working hard to pull off some incredible projects before my service is over. The project I’m most excited about is the amazing, and slightly ambitious, program I am organizing for girls here in Ha’apai, and in order for it to happen, I need your help!

Us Peace Corps Volunteers and the Tongan Ministry of Youth, Employment, Sports and Training (quite the title) are working together to hold the first nation-wide Camp G.L.O.W. (Girls Leading Our World). This program, designed to empower Tongan girls and young women, will be run as a week-long sleep away camp and will advocate, among other things, a healthy lifestyle; teaching leadership and team-building skills; fostering self-confidence and creative expression; and building a strong network of motivated girls and women. Camp GLOW will be run in each of the four main island groups of Tonga, and will serve more than 200 hundred girls and young women throughout the country, 35 in Ha’apai alone.

Our Camp GLOW will be comprised of two camps. One will focus on girls in 9th grade who have displayed academic excellence and leadership potential. This camp is designed to motivate the girls to continue their education as far as possible and to become leaders among their peers. The second camp will benefit unmarried, unemployed young women between the ages of 18-21. This camp will focus on building skills for employment and financial independence. Both camps will emphasize personal achievement and active, responsible citizenship.

Throughout the week, campers will participate in sessions on goal setting, critical thinking and decision making, organization and effective study skills, time and money management, computer literacy, public speaking, conflict resolution, sexual health, the rights of women and children, sexual harassment and domestic abuse, nutrition, food sanitation, and first aid. In addition to these sessions, the camps will be filled with games, sports, songs, and arts and crafts, which will incorporate leadership training and team building. The women’s camp will also include technical skills training, field trips to local businesses, and sessions on resume writing and interviewing. The girl’s camp will include a day of shadowing a professional woman in the community who will share her story with the girls while allowing them a look into the life of a career woman.

Every session at Camp GLOW will be run by a Tongan woman – either a member of the community or a guest speaker from another island. The campers will be guided, supervised, and encouraged by camp counselors chosen from among the most motivated female youth leaders in the community, and will be chaperoned by a prominent community member who will serve as a camp mother.

Camp GLOW Ha’apai will be the first camp, and will run from June 21-26. Now that Peace Corps has approved our project, we can begin preparing for the camp. We will be organizing fundraising events within the community, and yes, I will be taking a bullet for a great causing and toa-ing (serving kava to men for hours and hours) and probably dancing as well- I know you all wish you could see this. Still, this project will not be able to happen without your help. Camp GLOW will be free of charge to all girls who attend so as not to limit the number of girls who apply, many who would not have the financial ability to do so otherwise. This means that we need as much assistance as possible from all of you.

To find out more information about Camp GLOW Tonga, please join our facebook group (and invite all your friends!): Camp GLOW Tonga, and/or email myself or campglowtonga@gmail.com. If you are interested and able to support this incredible project, please go to https://www.peacecorps.gov, click on “Donate Now” and search for A. Green to make a tax-deductible donation!(Here's the direct link: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=421-123)

Thank you for all of your support throughout my time in Peace Corps and in Tonga. I appreciate all of your help so much, and I know I never would have been able to accomplish as much here without you. If you could please pass this email along to your family and friends who might be interested, I would appreciate it greatly.

ʽOfa lahi atu (Lots of love),

Alicia

The most memorable event of February is, without a doubt, Cyclone Rene. Cyclone Rene reached a category 4, and was, admittedly, a pretty impressive storm.

Peace Corps, obviously being aware of the storm, called my first ever "consolidation" for the cyclone. Luckily, our site in Ha'apai is another volunteer's house, and we were well stocked with water and food and unable to be kicked out (as happened at consolidation points that were Mormon churches...)! The first day and a half or so, the weather was fine, sunny even, and we did feel pretty foolish having all 10 of us (there are so many Peace Corps in Ha'apai this year!) holed up in one house. Still, we made some pretty delicious meals and got the opportunity to finally play board games.

When the storm finally did hit, it was crazy. I've never seen wind or rain that strong. We thought we had done a good job storm proofing the house, but our mats and strips of cardboard were no match for Rene. After we were a few inches deep in water, we realized we needed to move the tarps to the outside of the windows. However, we were delayed by the front door literally flying off. (Disclaimer: the door was very flimsy plywood with cardboard in the middle.) The kitchen door was moved to cover the giant door-hole through which water was pouring into the house, and then a group of us went outside and nailed the tarp over the windows.

Luckily, the storm changed paths after the eye hit us, so we only got half of the cyclone. The winds also stayed pretty high up, and thankfully caused minimal damage. For us, the worst part of the storm was, by far, the smell of 10 people in a wet house...ifo! My village was fine for the most part, which the most damage sustained by the school- we lost our roof on two of the classrooms. But, we were able to recover the metal scraps and nail them back on.

Tragically, Rene hit right as mango season was about to happen this year, and the amount of fallen, rotting fruit was incredible. The winds also did a number on banana and papaya trees, and on certain root crops in the ground.

The other major bit of news from February was the grounding of the MV Pulupaki (the inter-island ferry boat) and subsequent trial. Since the Princess Ashika sank last year, there has been a lot of concern about the boats, and it was discovered that the owners of the Pulupaki had forged safety documents and that the boat was actually unseaworthy. Everyone was taken to court: the shipping company, the owners (including white foreigners!), the prime minister, government officials and tried by a special judicial committee from Australia. They will be returning soon to announce their findings and sentence those responsible.

In the meantime, while the boat was grounded, it meant that supplies were, well, in short supply, especially since the large airplane was gone for two months to be serviced in NZ. But, it's Tonga, and no one went hungry- we just had to get by without ice cream or cakes!

First, Happy New Year (slightly late, I know)! It’s officially 2010, and I am adjusting to making the strange transition from counting the number of months I’ve been in Tonga to counting the number of months I have left. It’s a strange sometimes exciting, sometimes scary process, but one that is inevitable when you are surrounded by community members telling you how soon you’ll leave while simultaneously asking for your stuff! Still, to me, I have almost a full year left, and I am happy to be here. Despite this time crunch, real or imagined, I have a lot of projects I am very excited to undertake this year and am looking forward to less of the awkward integration issues and more productive work.

January was the reintroduction month, after being home for the holidays and the school break. First there was the MST conference in Tongatapu with all the PCVs in my group. It was nice seeing everyone, but slightly unsettling to really realize how little time we have left in Tonga. Then, it was back to Ha'apai and GPS Koulo. We eventually got around to cleaning up the school and after that got finally around to starting classes. It's really nice already knowing all the students and what to expect from them as individuals and as a class. The slight downside is that they all know me (and know I won't hit them!) and are pretty comfortable around me, so classroom control is going to be a bit more of an issue this year than it was last year when they were all terrified of the new "pelangi"!

The one sad event of this month was that Kate and Brett, my fellow volunteers and good friends, had to return back to America. It was very sad to say goodbye to them, and Ha'apai definitely isn't the same without them. The one thing that has positively changed is that, upon leaving, they left me their washing machine (which I frequently used at their house), and it's changed my life! I never thought I could love technology this much. Brett also left me his guitar, and I shall be making a valiant effort to teach myself how to play over the next year. Kate and Brett are missed very much, but I am still looking forward to my state fair debut with them in 2011!

As you can probably tell from my cheesy, attempting to be cute by channeling Bing Crosby title for this post, I returned to the United States of America for two weeks to enjoy Christmas and New Years with family and friends.

Being back home was absolutely wonderful, but so so cold! Seriously, I think I have become a source of shame to New Englanders everywhere- my time in the tropics has made me such a wimp. Thankfully, I had lots of loving and supportive people to bring jackets, hats, mittens, scarves, and blankets to airports, cars, and houses for me and to make delicious hot beverages to keep me as toasty as possible. I also appreciated the love and support of these people in helping me navigate the trickier waters of culture shock, slowly escorting me around supermarkets and shopping malls, and reassuring me that I didn't have to make a decision and buy anything if I didn't want to.

I had a wonderful Christmas time with my family and ate some incredible food (best lobster bisque ever), a trend that continued over the duration of my trip and encompassed valiant attempts to eat every kind of cheese, olive, and bread known to man, all while stocking up on as much delicious beer and wine as possible. Thom was incredible, and spent the time I was home with me and my family (minus approximately 36 hours) and didn't even pressure me too much to go out of doors and into the freezing, if beautiful, snow!

By far, the highlight of being home was seeing and spending time with family and friends from both high school and college. I had an epic New Years with some of the best friends possible in the middle of the MA woods on a lake with a hot tub (and the hot tub's many rules), and enjoyed nights out in Wakefield, a town that has somehow become a bit swankier (to be fair, that was Reading, but still!).

The only disappointment was that two weeks looks a whole lot longer on paper than it actually is. There were a lot of people I wasn't able to see, and I would have liked a whole lot more time with everyone. I don't know if I realized just how much I've missed everyone until I finally saw people again. And I have to say, leaving a second time was much harder than the first. Still, I'm glad to be back, and excited for the year ahead. As always, I look forward to emails, letter, and packages, and I can't wait to see everyone next winter.

So, to sum up my time at home, I ate and drank a whole lot of delicious things (no root crop!), saw friends and family, braved the snow, discovered a rather disturbing love of Ugg boots and pop music, and re-energized to finish my second year in Tonga!

Dear Readers who are still checking my blog even though I have not posted in two months,

Before I jump ahead to the future I feel as though I should revisit and wrap up the past few months of 2009.

FIJI

When last I posted I was heading to Fiji for a root canal, and I am very glad I went! The dental work went fine- I was so impressed with how clean and professional the dental office I went to was, and they did a fine job killing my tooth, avoiding infection, and filling it back up. The root canal should last the rest of my time in PC, and I am very happy to be able to drink tea and eat ice pops again! On a broader note, Fiji was an amazingly interesting place, and I am glad I was med-evac’d there. I flew from Tongatapu into the capital of Suva, on the main island, Viti Levu, which, after my time in Ha’apai seemed enormous and overwhelming. Suva is filled with people, almost as many as live in the whole country of Tonga, shopping malls, restaurants, and even a movie theater- yes, I went to the movie theater, yes, I saw New Moon (to be fair, it was either that or a Hindi movie without subtitles), yes, it was wonderful, especially when surrounded by Fijians laughing and commenting on each scene while passing around food. The diversity of the country was really nice, particularly the Indian food that could be found cheaply everywhere thanks to the large Indo-Fijian population.

The PC Fiji staff and volunteers were all so kind and helpful, and despite an initial lapse in communication between Tonga and Fiji, everything from the administrative end went smoothly. Since it was Thanksgiving week, most of the PCVs happened to be in town, and they were all very kind. They showed me around, gave me suggestions of where to eat, let me come on a trip to Fijian cost-co, invited me to join them for Thanksgiving, let me tag along to happy hours and nights out, braved community rumors and allowed me to come and see their village, and even invited me to play ultimate. I am very grateful for all the help, advice, and companionship, and they made my week in Fiji much more enjoyable!

Aside from spending time in the movie theater and at restaurants, I was able to explore a bit of Suva during my time there. I went to a wonderful museum devoted to Fijian and South Pacific Island history, and was very impressed. It was so interesting reading about the history of the various islands and seeing artifacts- it really made me wish Tonga was able to sustain something similar, particularly since Tonga was featured very prominently in the Fijian museum since they had controlled large portions of Fiji and all of Samoa, and a lot of skills and handicrafts were influenced by all three cultures. I also took a day trip out to Colo-i-Suva national rainforest park, which was gorgeous and humid, and secluded enough that I was able to take a quick dip in one of the waterfall pool, sans clothing, to cool off!

And finally, my week in Suva was made even more exciting by the fact that the Miss South Pacific beauty pageant was going on! The best part was that each competing island had its own booth inside a cultural heritage tent to showcase their islands specific handicrafts, distinct forms of waving and tapa-making, and dancing. Unsurprisingly, Miss Fiji won the pageant, but Miss Tonga did put in a strong showing, and won the lava-lava wear portion- the South Pacific equivalent of the bikini contest. Miss Tonga was even on my flight back to Tonga, and it was great fun watching all the airport staff and flight attendants in each country run to take photos with her on their cell phones and ask for autographs.

SIVI

While class 6 sat their high school entrance exam in October, the results were announced the first week of December on the radio and through Ministry of Ed handouts. And the students at my school did so amazingly well! Out of 17 students, 10 passed into government high schools, and the other 7 all scored high enough to attend church-run schools. Of the 10 that passed into government schools, four qualified for Tonga High, the best secondary school in the country, and two others missed the cut-off by less than five points. We had the most students qualify for Tonga High out of all the schools in Ha’apai, and one student, an amazingly bright and innovative girl, scored the second highest mark in all of Ha’apai. I am so proud of all the students and of how hard they worked last year! The village was equally as proud, and most of the week was taken up with feasts, barbeques, and lots and lots of kava drinking.

Dear loyal blog readers,

Today I am departing on an unplanned last minute trip to Fiji…to get a root canal. See, that sentence got much less exciting. My tooth had been hurting quite a bit, so I came into Nuku’alofa on Thursday and saw the dentists at the hospital who determined there was no cavity. Although typical Tongan practice is to pull a tooth that hurts, I get special perks, being a PCV, and am being medically evacuated to Suva to have a root canal.

Despite being completely unprepared and woefully under-packed for an international voyage (yes I have to wash my clothes every night in the sink), I am greatly looking forward to seeing a dentist and getting this over with. Who know, maybe I’ll even be able to wear a bathing suit on a beach there… In any event, I will keep you all posted on the procedure and will hopefully be coming back to Tonga very soon.

Tongans are very serious about the devil (teivolo). People who fear nothing else in the world, who will willingly hunt and swim with sharks, who live in a place that could be literally swept away by a large wave are terrified to no end of the devil. The bush is avoided at nighttime, because that’s where the devil lives. People do not live in a house alone, because the devil will inevitably come and possess them. Every bad thing that happens in Tonga is the work of the devil, and he is always plotting to get you. Needless to say, I am constantly being asked with shock and awe, “Why are you living alone/ walking to the store alone/ leaving my house alone at night/ dressing up for Halloween? Aren’t you afraid of the devil!?” In response, I fluctuate between nervous laughter and bold assertions such as, “Palangais are not afraid of the devil.”

In some ways, the omnipresence of the devil is really interesting. Although Tonga is a completely Christian nation, it’s actually illegal for an organized religion that is not Christian to be in Tonga, they’ve incorporated quite a few traditional “pagan” beliefs into this Christian context, the most prominent being the transformation of bad Polynesian demons and spirits into the devil.

A few weeks ago I was sitting in my house, listening to some Grateful Dead and writing letters, a typical Tongan Sunday. My neighbor Lupe, her sister and her cousin (I think) stopped by to escape the children and chat. In the middle of a sentence Lupe stopped and looked at me, a little puzzled, and asked, “What is this music?” I told her the name of the album was American Beauty, and she looked even more concerned. I listened closely to the song, just in time to hear the refrain, “a friend of the devil is a friend of mine.” Lupe’s sister then chimed in, “Americans are friends with the devil?!” Cue shock and horror. I hastened to explain that no, Americans did not like the devil, and that the people who played the song did not worship the devil, but the damage had been done.

Later that evening, I spied Lupe coming back over to my house, and I ran to my i-pod. In a moment of supreme inspiration, I turned on the soundtrack from Godspell, and when Lupe again asked what the music was, I was ready. “Oh, this is from a drama about Jesus Christ.” Great success. She especially loved the song “Bless the Lord My Soul”, and I ended up burning her a CD of the album to bring home. So, in the course of a day I went from being a suspected infidel and devil lover to a good Christian girl, all because of my i-pod.

My birthday celebrations this year was different from last year, namely in that no mammals were harmed or killed in the ensuing celebration, something I attribute to the fact that I didn’t tell any Tongans it was my birthday. Birthdays here are, on the whole, not a big deal, with the exception of first birthdays, and no one really celebrates them in the narcissistic manner we do in America. But, being Americans, a few of my PC friends along with Brian and Sabina and Aki and Koitchi decided to use my birthday as an excuse to go out to dinner in Ha’apai, something that almost never happens. There is a guest house in town that, with a few days advanced notice, will prepare a lobster dinner (provided someone can catch lobsters) and I am so glad we went. Dinner was amazing: lobster, and root crop (obviously), a vegetable and octopus stir-fry, fried fish, a vegetable salad(!), papaya, and a delicious birthday cake provided by Kate. The lobster was, in true Tongan fashion, covered in mayonnaise and what Eric calls “government cheese”, and in a telling display of cultural integration, I ate the whole thing and thought it was amazing. The meal ended with the ten of us up to our elbows in grease and lobster juice, deliciously full and happy.

Clearly, the day was made even better by some lovely birthday emails, facebook posts, and even a few wonderful packages, and I really appreciate all of the love that was sent my way. It’s strange to think that I’ve already spent two birthdays in this country, and that I’ll be 25 when I leave here…as my mother reminds me, never having held a ‘real’ job!

Despite the lack of Halloween staples such as jack-o-lanterns, craft stores, and Ressee’s peanut butter cups, we decided to celebrate October 31st in true American fashion. (sidenote: Melissa and I both have come to the same shocking conclusion: being in PC might be making us more ‘American’ and possibly more patriotic…) The plan: a bonfire on the beach behind a Tongan cemetery and a mandatory costume rule. (To put this in context, while European and American graveyards usually have a spooky gothic feel thanks, in large part, to granite headstones and somber settings, Tongan cemeteries are adorned with large colorful quilts, usually held upright by stands, and sandy grave sites are decked out with the brightest plastic flowers to be found. All in all, the effect is not as scary as we were hoping for on this occasion.)

The night before Halloween, I spent at least four hours coloring plastic drinking straws with a black permanent marker in preparation for my costume. I decided to dress up as a molocau, the poisonous centipedes that inhabit Tonga, but, as I explained to Thom when he expressed concern with how this might change my demeanor, I would be a friendly molocau, not a vengeful one. To achieve this look, I taped these black straws down the side of a black shirt and black pants, creating my “100” legs and used two more for my antennae. I also made every attempt to wiggle from side to side and to move very very fast.

There were some pretty great costumes made with very limited resources, and that just made the party even better. Notable get-ups included Brian’s elaborate bed-sheet mummy, Brett’s crocodile Dundee, complete with an inflatable raft he transformed into a crocodile and wrestled, Kate’s elaborate 80’s outfit which showed off more leg than any of us have seen in quite some time, Grant’s portrayal of a Tongan church woman completed by the floral dress and church hat he borrowed from his neighbor, and Sabina’s amazing nurse from ‘Kill Bill’.

Before heading down to the beach, Grant and I biked through town in costume to buy some more alcohol and mixers, much to the amusement of everyone we saw. All day on Monday I was accosted by children at my school wanting to know who the fakaleiti (literally, like a lady- a Tongan term for a man/boy who cross dresses or is effeminate ) I was biking through town with was, and on discovering it was a PC, why oh why he was wearing I dress.

Although there was no candy at our beach party, there were plenty of yummy things to roast on the fire and eat, as well as more than enough rum, and some great music. Much to popular disbelief, I discovered that there is indeed a molocau dance (as well as a mummy dance and a some 80’s dances and the infamous carrot dance!), although I suspect one must be rather under the influence to perform it to perfection. Some people had some much fun that they stayed up all night, slept on the beach, and had to perform a walk of shame through town on Sunday morning as everyone was going to church, in a dress…but I’m not naming names!

Since Muimui had followed me to town, we came back home around 3:30 in the morning, where I ran into my neighbor, Le’o, and a few of his friends slowly walking back from kava (Lupe and the kids went to Vava’u for almost two weeks, and Le’o’s house instantly turned into a guys hangout/ crash pad with an ‘informal attire at all times’ rule). Both of us said hello, said goodnight, and didn’t ask any questions, even when we all skipped church the following morning.

Last month, after about 6 weeks of my foot hurting, I finally went to Tongatapu to get an x-ray taken of my foot. I’d been waiting until the class 6 exam and an island-wide clean-up attempt were finished, and once they were I figured I should finally have this checked out. My foot was still hurting quite a bit, especially with changes in weather and temperature. So, I flew to the capital and had a very Tongan examination done.

The medical officer, Seini, and I drove to the hospital, where I found out that we first had to get a form filled out by hospital medical personnel. Instead of waiting to see a doctor Seini decided we should just go to her house and ask her cousin to sign the form, since he’s a nurse at the hospital. So we drove across town and pulled into the yard of her parents’ house where she had a child go wake her cousin- I later found out he works night shifts and was sleeping when we woke him up. On the “patio” amidst pigs and dogs and children he quickly looked at my foot, sign the x-ray form, and back we went to the hospital. (As a quick sidenote, I’d like to mention that the newly renovated wing of the hospital outside of Nuku’alofa is quite nice- very clean and well staffed.)

The best part about having Tongan (or host country nationals in PC-speak) medical staff is that they know everyone within the Tongan medical community, and we were able to breeze right into the x-ray room, with Seini stopping to joke with everyone along the way. We got my x-rays taken and developed in record time and then, rather than go through the silly waiting for a doctor business, headed back to Seini’s family’s house to have her cousin look at them. Amid the animals in the front yard he read the x-rays and told me that I have a small fracture that’s healing well, and that most of the pain is coming from the fact that when the cement block fell on my foot it bruised all the way through and that my bone and soft tissue are still bruised and will take a few more months to heal thoroughly. All in all, best news I could have hoped for.

I spent one more day in the capital a got to do a bit of shopping for luxury items we don’t get out in Ha’apai (namely cheese and American candy!) for myself and the other PC, ate at restaurants, mailed letters (they take about a ¼ of the time to get places if I mail then from Nuku’alofa than if I mail them from Ha’apai), and I even drank a chai latte(!) then it was back home and back to school, sort of.

The education system here in Tonga is comprised of primary schools, which contain classes 1-6, and high schools, or, as there are known here, colleges, for forms 1-7 (7th-12th grade for us Americans). In order to pass from primary schools into high schools, all class 6 students must sit an entrance exam (sivi) (four subjects: English, Tonga, science, and math) and obtain a passing score. If they don’t, they must repeat the year in primary school. In addition to passing, the exact score is also important because it qualifies the students for different high schools. Only those with the highest scores are accepted to the “best” high schools (the government-run ones). Those with lower passing scores are usually accepted to various church-run high schools (Free Wesleyan, Catholic, Mormon, etc.).

As most of you know, I am working in a primary school, which means my class 6 students, the class 6 teacher, and I have essentially been preparing all year for this test, which they took on October 6-7. I have a few concerns about having a placement test for high school entrance, particularly that it places an enormous amount of pressure on 10-12 year old kids. All year they have been coming to school early, usually 7:30, leaving late, around 4:30, and coming back again for night school from about 7:00-9:00. In addition, I generally dislike standardized tests and the “teaching-to-the-test” mentality that accompanies them, which is a large part of what happens in class 6, and, on top of that, these tests have a history of being terrible and full of errors. The English portion has been particularly bad in the past; a few years ago a PCV took the test for one of his students, a college graduate and native English speaker, and scored an 80% because the test had so many mistakes!

Still, despite these concerns, all in all, I think the sivi went pretty well. The English portion of the exam was much more grammatically sound than in past years (I think there were only 3 mistakes on the whole paper), there weren’t too many ridiculous trick vocabulary words, and there was only one section that was pretty impossible (combining multiple sentences by choosing the correct conjunction…boo).

And, since we’re in Tonga, a major event means one thing: feasts! Over the two days of the exam there were four kai pola at my school compound: two breakfast feasts, and two dinner feasts. Huge tents were set up in the school yard and tables and benches were brought over from the church halls. The breakfast feasts were fairly typical: giant plates of bread, cookies, and cakes for each student/teacher/guest, all to be washed down with a large mug of milo (knock-off hot cocoa) or sugar and milk with a bit of tea. (The day before the exam, I had a serious talk with the students about not eating too much before the test began to avoid being sick…overeating can be a serious problem at a kai pola!)

However, the dinner feasts blew my mind. All Tongan feasts are pretty astounding to us portion-conscious foreigners and tables are typically completely covered with food, often at least two layers deep. But, for such a special occasion, the typical would not do. As the exam was wrapping up, giant flat-bed trucks pulled up to the school, each covered with food and giant shelf-like structures covered in tin foil and other shinny paper and decked out with balloons and ribbons. These shelves were first placed on the tables, and then loaded with food, creating the surface area of three tables where there was once just one!

I should note that for the entire two days and nights that the exam was taking place, the fathers and male members of the community were showing their support by drinking kava. Nonstop. All year long I’ve been avoiding being a to’ua (lone unmarried woman who sits in the kava circle and serves the men kava) and somewhere along the line in a string of excuses I made the vague promise that I would only to’ua during the sivi. Now, to put this in a cultural context, Tongans say they are going to do things all the time that they have no intention of doing- it’s more important that you tell a person what they want to hear rather than refuse anything. But, apparently, this does not apply to Alicia. The first day I held the kava drinkers at bay telling them that I had to go into town and work on the water project application, which I did. The second day, I had no such handy excuse, and every time I appeared in the school yard someone ran up and asked me to come to’ua. For the morning I made indistinct references to having to clean the classroom and talk to the kids, but once they were in the room with the exam, I was out of excuses. Essentially, I spent the rest of the day hiding, moving around, and performing very menial tasks (like washing a table) with great energy and concentration to avoid having to join the kava circle.

Now that the exam is over, the class 6 will essentially sit around for the last month and a half of school. I’ve told them we’re still going to have class, much to their dismay, but have promised only “fun” lessons and no written work. We’re working on how to read/act plays now and I’m hoping to put together a show to perform for the community when school finishes in December.

Most of you blog readers have already received this announcement via email, but I figured I'd post on it on the blog as well! I am currently in the process of helping the village next to mine, Holopeka, look for donations to address a critical water problem. After an intense fono (official and formal town meeting) (where I may or may not have gotten very nervous at having to make an official Tongan speech) that village council and town officer decided that the only way we can address this problem is to ask for outside assistance.

Water is supplied to the villiage via a pump and generator that pumps well water up to a large holding tank which sits atop a metal-frame stand. The water is then distributed from the tank and into the community and hosueholds via pipes for general household usage, generally flush toilets and water for washing. (Drinking water herecomes from rainwater.) The stand that holds the water tank is made of metal and has rusted so much that it's on the verge of collapse. The village shortened the stand by 3 meters in 2007 to remove erroded sections, which was a temporary fix, but the decrease in height also made it more difficult for the water to be transported. We fear that the stand will break and collapse within the next 3 months, and if that happens the village will have no well-water. Good drinking water is a precious supply, and will run low if an entire village is forcedto use their rain water collection tanks for general purposes. As a result, we are looking for help to build a new stand and keep enough water in the village! The village has been able to fundraise about half of the necessary funds and will provide all the labor inconstructing the new stand, but we still need some assistance.

I've applied to an organization called Appropriate Projects, which is part of a larger organization, Water Charity. They have approved our project and are helping to collect donations to make our project happen. If you are readigg this, I would ask that you please consider making a donation and help my village. Any amount of money, even $5 or $10, would make a huge difference, and I would be so grateful!

Here is the link to my water-tank project page, which has the donation information on it: http://appropriateprojects.com/node/54.

I am in awe at the number of people who have already donated money in the few short days since I sent an email out, and I am so thankful for all your support. It's just wonderful, and I'm so overwhelmed and grateful. Thank you all so much!

'Ofa atu!

September was a pretty crazy and hectic month, so, I suppose, in a way it was fitting that the last day of the month was taken up by massive fear and panic resulting from a tsunami. I was going about my business last Wednesday morning around 7:30am as usual. I had already brought water inside from my rain water tank and it was on the stove boiling for my morning tea. The radio was prepared to be switched on at 8:00 (which is when we get 10 minutes of English-language BBC Pacific Region news broadcasts), and I’d already scolded school children for looking in my windows and staring at me. It was a typical day. My cell phone rang a few times, but, not unusually, my network was atrocious, and all I could hear was infinite static and what I’ve dubbed ‘space noises’- I really didn’t think much of it.

About a half hour later my phone was still ringing (but unable to connect) and the words “earthquake”, “tsunami”, and “Samoa” caught my attention from the news broadcast. Samoa is pretty close to Tonga (very close if you are a giant tsunami wave) so I tried to call the emergency coordinators in my group who have satellite phones and are immediately contacted by the PC office if there is any natural or political threat to safety, but the phone network was still busy/down, and I couldn’t get through to anyone. It wasn’t until school officially started that the teachers turned on the radio, and we heard, in Tongan, that there was a tsunami warning in effect for Tonga. Massive panic ensued. Now, Tongan children, as a whole, make American kids look like tiny spoiled wimps. They do strenuous chores American children would never consider doing unless they were getting paid, they routinely run around with giant bush knives, climb coconut trees, take care of younger siblings on their own, and are seemingly impervious to cuts, scrapes, bits, and even infections. So, when the word got out that there was a tsunami warning, I was a bit surprised to see how quickly the students at school began to panic and cry, although with good reason: if a serious tsunami were ever to hit Lifuka, there’s a very slim chance that anything or anyone would survive. Immediately school was dismissed, and the kids went sprinting home or into the bush. No organization, no protocol. Just running.

I was still trying to get in touch with other volunteers, but I couldn’t get through to anyone. Not really knowing what was going on, I weighed my options: to get to the PC consolidation point or higher ground, I would have to bike/ride along the one road from my village to town, which runs right next to the shore of the island, which didn’t seem like the best idea. My school and house is located almost directly in the middle of the northern half of the island, so I decided to just stay put. My fellow teachers joined me in this strategy, since the majority of the village I live in is pretty close to the water, and in the spirit of not panicking, we made some morning tea and keke (Tongan doughnuts) and pretty much hung out. A few hours later I was able to receive a phone call from another volunteer telling me we were all clear.

We were so incredibly lucky here in Ha’apai. Only a few tsunami waves hit the main wharf in Pangai, which is virtually the best place it could have since there are no houses on the beach there, and the highest wave was no more than 3 meters. Kate and Brett, who live right on the beach in Pangai and left with their neighbors for higher ground, saw the ocean before and during the waves, and even though there wasn’t a lot of damage, it sounds terrifying. According to them, the entire harbor drained out before the waves hit, almost like the harbor was a sink and someone had pulled the drain. (For a more exciting version of the tsunami in Ha’apai, check out Kate and Brett’s blog: http://asleson.blogspot.com/) The only damage that my island incurred was to some of the boats that were at the wharf and in the harbor, but even they weren’t damaged too badly. The biggest issue was that no one was really informed and hardly anyone knew what was going on- the word tsunami (peau kula- literally ‘red wave’) was heard, and everyone understandably panicked.

Sadly, there were deaths and much more damage in the Niua island group of Tonga, which is actually closer to Samoa than it is to any other Tongan islands, and all this week there have been fundraisers within Tonga to send money and aid up to Niuatoputapu.

Talking with some of the other volunteers the other day we realized that in 2009 there have been multiple earthquakes, two cyclones, a volcanic eruption, and now a tsunami in Tonga, which is a pretty tiny country. We’ve really been blowing through those natural disasters…I think all we’re missing is a blizzard! Still, we’ve been extremely fortunate because none of the events have really caused widespread damage or loss of life.

Thank you so much to everyone who sent me and/or Thom (who perhaps shall henceforth be referred to as my personal secretary… I’m kidding, I love you!) an email to make sure everything was alright down here. It means so much, and I really appreciate your concern.

All in all, the naval aid mission to Tonga was, I think, a great success. The schools got a lot of structural help, and the workshops that were run really seemed to help some of the ministries and organizations in Pangai. Everyone still talks about the events and when the soldiers were here, although quite a few women in my village are very disappointed that daughters didn’t marry any of the single American soldiers. It was a really fun few weeks, and I’m glad I got to be here in Tonga while this all happened!

At the ceremony, Phil gave me some exciting news. There was to be a formal farewell dinner for the naval officers and ranking members of the Pacific Partnership that evening at Ha’apai High with the Prime Minister of Tonga and other important ministry heads, and they had invited two Peace Corps to attend. Since Grant and Phil were in their second year, they received official invitations. However, Grant was still out on his island and wouldn’t be coming into Lifuka, so Phil passed on the invitation to me. The PR officer heard about this, and then invited Kate and Brett as well so that all the PC in Lifuka would be able to go together, so that evening we all headed up to the high school, unsure of what the evening would entail.

Initially, it was a bit awkward. The Prime Minister’s office had organized the whole event, and they intended it to be a very formal and official dinner. They had assigned seating and guest lists (we had to show our invitations at the door to be let in), and, as luck would have it, Phil, Brett, and Kate were all at one table, and I was at another. However, when taking into account decorum for the evening, they didn’t factor in the open “bar” that the navy took their own initiative in providing. True, it was just regional beer and wine, but sailors, even military ones, even commanding officers, can drink. The dinner itself was delicious, and the prime ministers office did a great job of combining local Tongan feast food (roast pig, root crop, raw fish) and Americanizing locally available foods (lobster bisque, lobster in butter sauce, bread (!), salads) and the high school provided dancing throughout the meal, which the boys doing traditional war dances and the girls doing some remarkably graceful tauo’lunga. I was seated next to the minister of cultural affairs, across from one of the civilian dentists I had met while translating at the hospital, and next to an officer who actually went to GW, a fact that grew more and more amusing as our wine glasses continued to be refilled. Throughout the meal groups of Tongans began to gather outside and look through the windows until, at the time we left, the crowd was at least 10 people deep around the whole building. Everyone was talking and mingling and having a good time until disaster struck: there was no more beer left. Some members of the US navy even crawled under the table that served as the bar and dug through the trash trying to find more to drink, but to no avail. That’s when we decided to move the party over to Mariner’s.

Somehow all the Peace Corps and a few soldiers got a ride in one of the buses the navy had brought for transport the two block to Mariner’s Café where the crowd was absurd. Soldiers were spilling out onto the street and everyone was drunk- I felt like I was back home! We all had a fun night talking with American, Australian, and New Zealander navies and the Japanese volunteers who live here, and various soldiers kept buying us drinks. Some Tongans even made a little dance club-ish area by setting up a hut of coconut leaves down by the wharf where a lot of Tongan youth joined the soldiers in drinking and dancing. To date, it’s still the only time we’ve really been “out on the town” so to speak, and it was great just having other Westerners around to talk and joke with.

The navy drew up different projects for each of the primary schools they worked on. They rebuilt and repainted GPS Pangai and GPS Faleloa, and worked on the toilets at some of the schools. At GPS Koulo, they gave us water tanks! Up until now, we’d been having a serious water-supply issue. All of the tanks at the school were broken, and there was no where for the kids to get water to drink or wash in or to flush the toilets when the piped water supply was out, which is fairly often. My sema vai (cement water tank) had been broken as well, but when a few members of the navy came in April to do reconnaissance and found out “an American citizen is living without water” they fixed it then, for which I am still profoundly grateful.

The soldiers came to my school armed with 3 brand new giant green plastic tanks, and spent the day digging holes and laying a cement block foundation for the tanks, setting them up, and reinstalling gutters on the school and the houses in the compound, including mine. The gutters are important because the rain goes off the roof into the gutters which run through pipes into the water tank. They also played a bit with the kids, who followed them around standing inches away, if that, and were completely star stuck. (For the next month every boy in my school played ‘American soldier’ at every opportunity: before school, during recess, after school, during school, all running around armed with sticks, making machine gun noises, and shouting out any English words they knew, primarily “Dead!” and “Winner!”.)

The next day I ran into one of the officers in town, and he told me there was some extra paint from painting the other schools and he told me they would be happy to come and paint GPS Koulo provided people from the village came to help. I called my principal and the town officer, and the next morning a few soldiers showed up with a huge supply of paint, brushes, and rollers and, with the help of most of the fathers of students at the school, painted our sad little school a very bright white with red trim, to match the uniforms of the students. While all the fathers worked, the mothers set to preparing a huge lunch for the soldiers (and the Tongan men, who ate afterwards and were a bit peeved to discover they couldn’t nap after eating, but had to get back to work). I walked around with my camera and the men and students alike would literally sprint across the school yard in order to pose with the soldiers or with the paint supplies. When they were finished, the school looked wonderful, just in time for the following day’s thank you ceremony!

Phil came that same day and helped us set up a schedule for Koulo and Holopeka’s thank you celebration for the navy. With his help we convinced my teachers that I shouldn’t dance again as one of the entertainment items, that yes, all the students should bring gifts, and no, we shouldn’t use this as an opportunity to tell them how poor Tongans are and list all the problems that we have that the navy should stay and fix. (Apparently it’s very Tongan to keep asking for more once you get something, and at other school’s teachers had actually made speeches not thanking the naval officers for coming but requesting more money/wok/materials and saying they hadn’t done enough…sometimes different cultures just clash on certain issues, and I wanted to make sure this didn’t happen in Koulo.) It wasn’t easy, but in the end, we thought we’d made our point. Phil told us what other schools had done, and we stuck to their schedule: opening speeches, entertainment numbers by the kids, thank you speeches, gift presentation, etc. My teachers obviously wanted me to emcee the event and make all the speeches, but with Phil’s help we convinced them that the soldiers would rather hear from the Tongans themselves, since that is who they came to help.

In the end Le’o, my neighbor and class 6 teacher, was elected to be the emcee and give the thank you speech and Viliami, the class 5 teacher, would give the welcome speech. My principal had to be forced to receive the donations from the navy and just say thank you. Le’o and Viliami asked if I would write the speeches for them, and I told them I would not, but that I would help them if they wanted to come to my house that night. In true Tongan fashion, when they showed up, they asked where the speech that I had written for them was, and were astounded to find that I actually didn’t write it for them. (This happens all the time with a few high school girls and girls taking classes at the USP (University of the South Pacific) branch in Pangai I help with English assignment.) So, we sat down and together wrote the speeches. I did have to do a bit of editing, namely convincing them to just say thank you and not ask for more, but all in all, they did a wonderful job and came up with some very kind things to say.

The next day, preparations started around 5 am. Parents arrived and mowed the grass and set up tents and benches on the school yard. I was barricaded in my kitchen having been asked to make 15 cakes the night before (I settled on carrot cake, banana bread/cake, and ‘chocolate’ cake) and pizzas so that the soldiers could have some American food at the lunch, which we set up buffet style under the awning outside one of the school room buildings.

The soldiers arrived around 10 o’clock, and the program started. The whole school performed a dance, and some of the girls did a special tauo’lunga dance, and everyone looked adorable in their costumes. Le’o and Viliami, despite being nervous to speak in English gave wonderful speeches (I was so proud!) and my principal, Manusiu, had to be pulled out from the crowd to accept the navy’s gifts of soccer balls, mini Frisbees, and school supplies. The families also really outdid themselves with gifts for the soldiers, and brought all sorts of Tongan handicrafts. The naval brass band was there, and between each item in the program they played songs, which all the kids ran up and danced to. Some of the older women, who love to clown and get a laugh, were being particularly bold and kept trying to escort embarrassed soldiers away so they could flirt with them and kept pulling the commanding officer up to dance. The soldiers were great sports about all of it, and the kids had a blast.

Right before we were going to eat the lunch, we heard a loud noise from the sky, and the kids went crazy. The navy had a few helicopters on board the ship and at each school visit they landed the helicopter for the kids. Since my school is right next to the airport and our yard is pretty small, they landed the helicopter right off of the runways, and we walked the kids around on the main road, while their parents jumped fences and climbed through bushes to get there faster. The helicopter crew was a riot, just what you’d expect helicopter pilots to be, and everyone loved them. They let all the kids climb into the cockpit and sit in the pilot’s seat, and each one of them wanted their picture taken (I think I have photos of about half the school sitting in the helicopter). Once the students had all been though the parents climbed in, and they seemed even more excited than their children. They’ve all apparently seen ‘Top Gun’ (which I still haven’t) and the men all wanted to exact flying maneuvers and war scenes. A surprising number had the same idea to yell into the radio “Mayday!” while everyone else looked on and laughed.

After everyone had a turn, we went back to the school yard where we ate and then wrapped up the ceremony with songs from the DJ and the brass band and lots of dancing. It was a wonderfully fun day, and I haven’t seen the students so excited before or since. I just hope the boys will lay off the soldier game; I’m a little tired of being ambushed every time I go out of the back of my house to get water.

On July 17th, a Saturday, the public relations officer of the mission invited all the Peace Corps volunteers on a guided tour of the ship, the USNS Richard E. Byrd. Like every naval vessel, the ship is technically considered sovereign U.S. territory, so for a few hours that afternoon we were back home, a fact we found rather funny that also made us a bit homesick.We were taken out to where the ship was anchored (I think it was a few miles offshore) and when we finally pulled up next to the ship, we were shocked at how huge it actually was. The first thing we saw, after we climbed up the world’s narrowest flight of stairs to the level right below the deck, were lines of heavy machinery (think bobcats and whatnot) taking up a tiny portion of the storage space, which gave us an idea of just how large this boat was. We were given our tour by a very cool member of the non-naval crew (we later found out that most of the actual ship’s crew weren’t members of the military) who showed us around and kept us from getting lost. We got to see the top decks, the steering and control room, play with the giant binoculars on the deck, visit the engine room, and roam the halls. Highlights definitely included the water bubblers that were on every floor of the ship, climbing flights of stairs for the first time since October, seeing the cafeteria, finding out there were televisions in every lounge that somehow were able to get American TV and catching a glimpse of a live MLB game (!), walking by an ammunitions storeroom and seeing a crew member unloading cases of Budweiser (since this was a humanitarian mission the ship didn’t carry any weapons, and the soldiers used that extra space to store the beer they brought with them from America since on previous occasions they had drank small island nations out of beer- we also learned that there was a naval party planning committee of sorts onboard that organized the purchase of said beer and other fun things), and, finally, the ship store. It was packed with all sorts of processed food (soda, chips, dips, cheese sticks) that I would have avoided back home, but suddenly found irresistibly appealing. The ship only took American cash, which sadly I had none of, but people were kind and lent me enough to buy some goldfish and a Klondike bar…heaven! We went crazy in there, and certain individuals practically bought out the store- it was wonderful. I never thought that being inside a mini 7-11 would make me miss home, but there you go. It was definitely a bit tough to get back on the small boat and go back to Pangai, but we all went to Mariner’s afterward and consoled ourselves over beers and chips and salsa from the ship’s store.

After the welcome ceremony was officially over, I stayed around to help clean up and pack away mats. The assistant governor asked me to come help translate at the hospital, so I went to a meeting at the governor’s office first, and then down to the hospital for about 4 hours that afternoon with one of the teachers from my school and helped some dentists explain things in Tongan. I now know all sorts of handy words like cavity (literally, 'little hole'), decay, brush your teeth, important, filling, drill, and dentures- pretty cool, I know.

I went back to help translate for a few hours after school for the rest of the week, and it was really shocking to see the state of teeth in Tonga. Most of the problems people came in with were as a result of rotting teeth, everyone from older men and women to little children. Some of the elder women didn’t even know what a toothbrush was, which was a bit disheartening, but all of the kids did- Tonga has a tooth brushing program at all of the primary schools, and it seems to be doing a good job at installing basic dental hygiene. Since the navy wasn’t able to bring all of its’ equipment for any of the projects (they had to downsize to a smaller ship because the one they were planning on bringing had a case of swine flu and public relations issues arose) and there were only a few dentists for the entire population of Ha’apai most teeth were simply pulled if the cavity was too large or they needed a root canal. They also did special fluoride treatments for the children, which terrified them for some reason (I think it may have been because they were told they couldn’t eat sugar for the rest of the day after: no lollies, no soda, no ice cream…scary stuff).

I biked to the hospital every day after school for the first week the navy was here to help with translation, but by the second week there were enough people in the community coming to see the doctors who knew basic English and could help out, which was good because I was able to go and sit in on some basic nutrition and food sanitation classes that were run in the MAFFF (Ministry of Agriculture, Food, Forestry, and Fisheries) office that Kate works in. Those sessions were really interesting because they had some good information and statistics, especially concerning food and the major health problems in Tonga, heart disease and diabetes, and because some women from local women’s groups attended and it was really helpful to watch their reactions to information and hear their questions. Kate and I really enjoyed the information they gave out, but we did realize that a lot of the basic health solutions which are taken for granted in America aren’t as easy in Tonga for economic and cultural reasons. For example, most families here on the main island do not have refrigerators, and those who do just have deep freezers, so saving leftovers in the refrigerator to prevent bacteria growth isn’t feasible most of the time. And, our island has electricity most of the time. Many of the outer islands in Ha’apai don’t have electricity at all, or only for a few hours at night when they turn on a generator so the men at kava can watch rugby. Also, when cooking for a kai pola (feast) most of the food preparation is done the night before, as there is no way you can cook for 30 people (at minimum) the day of an event- everyone is up all night the night before as it is. Still, it gave us a lot to think about, and gave me some great facts that I’m trying to use for my nutrition classes at school, and the soldiers who ran the session were so nice and really fun. They even snuck us American food off the ship in their backpacks: bagels, cream cheese, and cereal!

There were also two teams of veterinarians at MAFFF, one who made visits to different villages to look at sick pigs, horses, cows, and goats (most had parasites), and one who stayed at the office and spayed and neutered dogs. Apparently on other pacific islands, especially Samoa, Fiji, and Kiribati, they have a huge problem with the number of stray dogs, and their neutering services were very much in demand. Here in Tonga, we don’t really have a problem with dogs- they all “belong” to someone and tend to stay around their turf. Some are definitely underfed and malnourished, but they still are a certain family’s dog. Tongans also love puppies (as had been made abundantly clear by the frequent theft of puppies) and like their dogs to breed, so they weren’t all that interested in these services. Us palangais were though, and almost all of the foreigners living on Lifuka brought their dog or cat to be fixed. Since my neighbor had already taken a bush knife to my dog, I just stopped in to watch and get some heartworm pills for Muimui.

Kate and Brett brought their dog, Lucky (who is my dog’s sister), to be spayed, since they didn’t want her ending up like most of the female dogs here- constantly pregnant. We didn’t realize what an invasive operation it would be, and poor Lucky was pretty pitiful for the days following during her recovery. She was terrified of the needles, and, as a result, of white people in fatigues, and defecated all over one of the vets a couple times while they were here, which was sad since she was so terrified, but also a little funny, as was watching the dogs come in and out of the sedative they gave them. Kate and Brett also brought their neighbor’s dog, Simba (also from the same litter), and were told the procedure would be much simpler: all they did was inject a shot into his balls to sterilize him. All seemed well until the site of the injection became infected, and Simba had to be brought back several times, which he did not like, and somehow built up a resistance to the sedative shot, which means he was given larger and larger doses. Since he kept licking the infection, one of the navy vets made him a cone out of a pink plastic trash can which was duct-taped around his neck, much to Simba’s dismay and consternation. As a result of their medical mishaps, Lucky and Simba had to stay inside for a few days, and Kate and Brett’s house was like a sick bay. They couldn’t turn on the lights or have loud noises near the dogs because, combined with the anesthesia, it made the dogs hallucinate. If there’s anything more pathetic than a scared and hallucinating dog, I’ve yet to see it, and I don’t think I’d want to. Still, in the end, both dogs recovered, although they both continued to run with their tails between their legs and hide every time they saw someone in the navy.

On Monday, July 13th, the large ship arrived and on Tuesday there was a welcome

ceremony at Ha'apai High School. It was moved inside since it was raining like crazy, and the whole thing was a bit packed and claustrophobic. Students from three of the primary schools, their families, high school students and teachers, the town and district officers, and the naval officers all gathered inside.

Faleloa (Sarah's school) and my school were enlisted to provide the entertainment. And, since this is Tonga, drama ensued and nothing went according to plan. My school planned to use the dance they learned last year for the coronation, and they did a few refresher lessons the week before they arrived during school (obviously). The governor’s office called my principal and me on Friday and informed us that they wanted me to dance with the school for the soldiers. My principal told me she'd send her daughter and a few other girls over to my house on Saturday and Sunday to teach me the dance. In true Tongan form, despite phone calls, no one ever came, and since I was still feeling pretty sick and tired, I didn't track them down. Monday was a holiday, and with no school, all the girls were supposed to come to practice all day. However, it poured for almost 24 hours and we got a few feet of water, so obviously that didn't happen. Around 2 I called my principal again, and she promised to send girls over at 2:30- they got to the school a bit after 5. We started teaching me the dance and after the first verse another one of my teachers decided that we weren't going to have enough time to prepare so I should refresh the solo dance I'd learned before, and Koulo would do two dances. I also later learned that there was a CD availability issue (the CD with the song the students dance to belonged to a DJ in another village who was in NZ and had the CD in a locked briefcase that no one knew the combination to...they were practicing with a DVD from the coronation). Since this decision was made around 8:30 I didn't get to start practicing the other dance until after 9 with Lupe, who also stayed up all night perfecting my costume since I would now be dancing alone.

We got up early and went to the school where all the female students along with myself and Sarah were stripped down right outside the auditorium by anxious mothers and wrapped up in our tau'olunga costumes. 5 of the girls from Koulo were sick, another one fainted, and one more threw up, so our numbers were down considerably. Without any warning we were rushed into the auditorium and were all standing at the front. My principal took this opportunity to inform me that I would not be dancing alone, but with the students- the dance that I knew 1 minute of because no one ever came to teach me and that I was told to stop learning to practice the other one all night. I got very angry and frustrated and dizzy and had to sit down, which made them think I was even angrier

and wouldn't dance.

Meanwhile, the DJ started playing music for Faleloa's dance even though Koulo was standing up there, so the other school ran in and stood in front of us and started dancing. I was quite upset that I was now going to have to stand up there with my students for a dance I don't know in front of a bunch of officers. But as soon as Faleloa's dance is over they start playing the music to my solo dance...big wtf. My teacher literally shoved me in front of the platform, and I did my dance without passing out (I was so nervous) and then we all filed outside. Apparently they didn't have the CD to the song the students were supposed to dance to, but the message was reversed in the telling. So much stress- I don't think Tongans understand why this would be such a big deal to me. Luckily, all in all, the dance went pretty well.

I changed out of my costume, and met the commander and a bunch of other officers

who were very nice, along with the other volunteers: Kate, Bret, Phil, Grant, and Sarah. While we were mingling, the navy brass band started playing, and the kids went nuts. They all gathered around the band, dancing and jumping up and down, which was pretty adorable to watch. High school girls walked around with cups of sugar-coffee for the soldiers and tried to impress them and catch their eye with lots of hair flipping and dance moves right out of rap videos. I was later told that all these American soldiers were prime marriage material, and for the rest of their time here, it was fun watching the teenage and twenty-year old girls pursue various unsuspecting and uncomfortable men.

(Yes, to begin with, I have been meaning to write this post for over a month...now almost two months...) In the middle of July the navy came to Ha’apai. A U.S. naval ship, the Richard E. Byrd, carrying a couple hundred military and civilian volunteers arrived in Tonga as part of a humanitarian mission. Officially titled the “Pacific Partnership”, it was comprised of people from the U.S., Canada, New Zealand, Australia, and Singapore who came as part of their tour through the Pacific, visiting and working in Kiribati, Marshall Islands, Samoa, the Solomon Islands, and Tonga. The official mission statement for, well, the mission, is to provide humanitarian assistance and disaster relief and disaster relief planning. Here, the projects focused on health services and improving the government primary schools (technically, I think they called it ‘civil engineering’), and although most of the projects took place on the main two islands of Lifuka and Foa, a few medical teams were sent out (via helicopter!) to three of the larger outer islands in the group. On the main island, Lifuka, the navy completely took over our hospital, and had general doctors, dentists, and optometrists available for almost two weeks to whomever came for free, which was pretty amazing. Usually, our hospital is understaffed (by that I mean, there’s only one doctor) and empty (all he and the nurses can do is administer children’s tylenol and antibiotics; there are no x-ray machines (been broken for as long as I’ve been here), never mind MRIs, and if anything serious happens you either go to Tongatapu or, in most cases, do nothing and apply Tongan ‘medicine’/ traditional remedies), and it was such a change to see the place overrun, with people waiting throughout the building and outside. At the hospital they brought literally thousands of eye glasses, tooth brushes, and ran clinics on CPR, First Aid, and nutrition. There was also a team of veterinarians that traveled around checking up on the pigs, cows, horses, and goats of the two main islands, and spaying and neutering dogs that were brought in. But, I’m getting ahead of myself...

My back has been hurting ever since I moved into my house in February. Personally, I think it has a lot to do with my bed, which was a metal frame with wire fencing in the middle. I started sleeping on the floor, but that just made my hips hurt. When Thom came to visit I brought over an air mattress from the Peace Corps office, and after he left, I put that on top of my bed. I had been talking with the medical officer of PC since May, trying to get a mattress, and finally, this week, they sent a foam pad on the boat. Happily, my neighbors also found an extra wooden bed in the house of one of their family members, and I was very excited about the possibility of a combination of the two. The boat, the Pulupaki (which is the only one we have now since the Princess Ashika sank, and this one boat system has resulted in severe food shortages, shipping delays, and painfully slow mail delivery) was spotted pulling into Pangai around 10:30, and at 11 I was at the wharf with Lupe and another woman from my village who has a truck to get my new mattress pad (fakamolu- to make soft) and then go to the village of Hihifo to pick up the bed.

The boat started to unload, and we waited. Some days the Pulupaki and her crew and quite efficient at unloading, but this time that was not the case. There’s a small hut on the wharf where tickets are sold and you can get receipts for items that are on the ship, usually with the container number. The hut was packed with Tongans, and frankly, there’s no such thing as a line in Tonga. Everyone crowds around yelling and pushing, and there’s no order or reason. After 30 minutes, I finally got up to the front of the window, but had to try and yell my name over people screaming behind me in very loud and fast Tongan. Eventually I was told there was no ticket for my item, and I called PC who told me that they did put it on the boat and there should be a ticket. I’d been near the hut for almost an hour, and decided to look around the wharf to see if it’d been unloaded yet, since if something is unloaded, it’s pretty much fair game, and, as a result, packages are mixed up sometimes. It had already been an hour and a half, and the truck that drove me had to get back to Koulo. They told me they would go pick up the bed in Hihifo and that someone else from my village would come by later.

I waited for a while longer and then decided to go back to the “office” and ask them to check the receipts again. This time, after only a 15 minute wait, I got to the front and they found my receipt. But, instead of a container number, it said “c/o Pasifiki” at the top. I asked around for a while, and finally found out that Pasifiki was a person who possibly worked on the Pulupaki and that I had to find him to get my stuff. I finally ran down one of the boys who worked on the boat, but he told me my fakamolu was on the top and I would have to wait until the boat turned around to get it (the boat had turned to back into the wharf so the forklift could drive in and unload the containers). Meanwhile, all around me was chaos. People were climbing all over the boat trying to get on or off of find things. Men on the deck were trying a rope around whatever was on board, pigs, root crops, cases of beer for the bar, and throwing it down to boys who were waiting on the gangplank, dodging the forklifts backing out with huge metal containers containing foodstuffs, cars, and cows, while people were climbing on the forklifts to get up on the ship. Chaos. I realized that all the Tongans who were supposed to have to wait for things until the ship turned were getting boys to climb up and throw stuff down, but as a palangi every time I tried to break into the Tongan system, I was shot down.

I decided to just give up and wait it out, and sat down on the wharf. Soon, a Tongan boy and girl who were about my age came over and started to talk with me. They were actually pretty funny, and spoke really good English, which only meant one thing- they were Mormon. They had both been to America and done their mission work in the Philippines, and kept switching from English to Tongan to “Filipaini” which was quite impressive. The boy told me all about his girl problems and his American girlfriend and the girl kept trying to get me to help him realize that since this girl loves him he should love her too. They were very interested to hear about my boyfriend and kept asking what the “American way” to deal with certain relationship situations would be. Both of them wanted to return to American to go to Brigham Young University in Utah or Hawai’i where there are apparently already a lot of Tongans at, and I really hope they are able to. As much as I hate the Mormons and missionaries, Tonga has me feeling pretty conflicted. One the one hand, the church brainwashes people and makes them ashamed of their traditional culture, but on the other hand it provides a lot of scholarship and opportunities to travel that wouldn’t be available otherwise. I don’t know.

Anyways, I’d been at the wharf for about three and a half hours when the person for my village who was going to give me a ride pulled up. I told him I was still waiting and he pointed to the back of his truck where there was a huge dead pig with a gunshot wound through its head that was bleeding freely. He explained that there was a church feast the next day and that he had to go bring the pig back. I told him I would find a ride back, and was very ok with the fact that I would not be riding home next to a dead bleeding pig. I made the rounds of the wharf and chatted with some people I knew. I was very hot and tired and made the mistake of buying a soda, which meant I had to go back and buy sodas for everyone I was talking with at the time, and then go back and switch two colas for orange sodas because I forgot that Mormons don’t drink caffeine.

I had almost given up hope when I saw three teenage girls flirting with some of the boys who worked on the boat and heard the name “Pasifiki”. Immediately, I ran over and stood with them, telling them I was looking for Pasifiki too. After about 15 minutes of very witty and clever remarks by the boys, we found out the Pasifiki wasn’t actually on the ship- he had stayed in Nuku’alofa. Fortunately, the young girls I was with were dressed in a very western style (which made me think they’d want to impress the palangi) and once I told them I was fiu ’e tali (full of waiting) they started yelling at the boys and telling them to go find the stuff or they would kill them (typical Tongan joking). (Brett likes to tell his kids he will hit them until the poop rainbows, which they find absolutely hysterical. I just don’t get it.) After a while he brought their box down and I started yelling at him to bring mine too. Somehow it worked and, at 3:30, four and a half hours later, I finally got my mattress pad. I walked around the shops, which were packed with people stocking up on things that were unloaded before it ran out and found some people from my village, who said they’d give me a ride, and an hour later, we left town and I finally got home with my new bed and mattress (and my first Tongan sunburn)!

The funny thing is that no one thought it was strange that I spent my whole day waiting for something off the boat. Here, things happen when they happen, and you’re probably going to have to wait. So yes, the rumors you’ve heard about island time are true. Please me kind to me when I come back home…I fear ‘Alicia time’ may need to be pushed back an hour or two.

I’ve had a rat in my house for almost a month now, and we’re officially at war. He has eaten my flour, my sugar, chewed through the handle of a pan, eaten the tomatoes from my garden that are on my windows to ripen in the sun, and eaten granola that that was sent to me- low blow. In retaliation, I bought another large plastic container to store food, started doing dishes the second I finished eating, and transferred all my baking supplies to empty peanut butter jars. Still, he lingered, and that’s when I decided drastic measures needed to be taken.

That night, I went next door and returned with my neighbor’s cat. Now, this cat usually comes around during the day, starved for affection, and annoying follows me everywhere trying to rub up on my legs, usually as I’m walking and carrying something heavy. But at night she always returns to sleep next door. I figured if I locked her in at night when the rat is most active, she’d be able to kill him, eat him, and that would be that. What I didn’t count on was the fact that this may be the most annoying cat that ever lived. She spent the first hour I was trying to sleep jumping up on my in bed and trying to get attention. Then, when I threw her into the living room and shut my bedroom door she cried outside that door for the next hour (she’s persistent, I’ll give her that). At last, I heard her climb up into the roof, and I figured she’d be fine.

I was woken up the next morning at 6 o’clock because my neighbor, Fotu, a charming and loquacious four-year old, had fallen down and cut his chin and his parents, instead of cleaning his face, decided to send them to me. I washed his cut with soap (they didn’t have any), put some antibacterial cream on it, gave him a band-aid, and sent him home. The cat had watched all of this before running off into the kitchen, and I hoped she had gotten a whiff of rat and was going to finish him off.

I decided to go back to bed for another hour, and woke up at my usual time of 7:30 when the kids start showing up for school. I went into the kitchen and started boiling some water for tea when I saw the cat trapped splayed out in the window. The windows on my house, and on most Tongan buildings, are made up of panes of glass fitted vertically into holders. When you open the window the panes are vertical, and when you close then the planes are turned up horizontally. At first glance I thought the cat was dead, but as I walked closer, she started to mew. I have mosquito netting outside my windows, and she was stuck between the net and the glass. I tried to pry the window open, but the bottom of the window was clogged up by the tomatoes that had been sitting there to ripen. The glass itself was covered in cat fur and tomatoes, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an animal looking that pitiful. It was also pretty funny.

I went next door to ask Le’o for help, and finally we were able to pop one of the panes of glass out, freeing the cat. I have never seen an animal run away from something so quickly. I started cleaning up the smashed tomatoes and I realized that, along with the claw marks from the cats, there were bit marks on some of the tomatoes. The rat had been sitting on the window eating tomatoes and the cat had jumped up to try and get him and her weight had been too much, causing her to be trapped in the window and outsmarted by a rat.

I’ve yet to see signs of either rat or cat in my house for the past few days. It’s possible that they are both traumatized, a symptom I’ve seen more here in animals than anywhere else. (Case in point, Kate and Brett’s dog (sort of), Simba, was missing for a few days while we were in ‘Uoleva. Their neighbor found him eventually inside a water tank which, thankfully, was empty. How/why he was in here, no one knows, but now he spends most of his time hiding under furniture inside Kate and Brett’s house. It’s very sad.) With any luck, the rat will stay away until I can convince the cat to come back inside my house.

On Saturday Brian and Sabina held a trash pick-up event at the wharf as part of International Cleanup Day. It was an event sponsored by a group called Project AWARE, which, I think, is made up of divers who work to conserve aquatic environments. All of the Peace Corps and Japanese volunteers in town came out and we spent the morning cleaning the area from the “old wharf” to the wharf, probably about a mile long. Armed with gloves and giant trash bags we all headed out to different areas and started picking up trash.

Since it was Saturday morning, everyone was in town and at the market, which is right across from the area we were cleaning and lots of people saw us. A few made fun of us (yes, teenage boys are jerks in every culture), more thanked us (“Malo e hiko veve!”) and a couple children and women even joined in and helped us. The amount of trash we found was appalling. Since it had rained pretty heavily for the days preceding, all of the garbage was soaked, which made some of it, especially the dirty diapers, downright disgusting. It was also interesting to see what the most common pieces of rubbish were- I’d have to go ahead and guess that bags from chips, candy wrappers, and ramen noodle wrappers made up a majority of the trash we collected. Areas that were overgrown with bushes hid more trash than we could have imagined, as did crevices between rocks on the wharf. The wharf itself was filthy, and none of it was hidden- people just throw all their rubbish on the ground when getting on and off of boat, and cargo boats usually just leave their packing containers there.

It took us all about 3 and a half hours to cover all the ground, and we finally had to stop because we ran out of bags to put the trash in. Our final count was about 40 bags of rubbish, which all the trash collectors posed with outside the dive shop under a banner promoting the event. Brian handed out certificates and stickers to everyone who helped (the kids and women loved this- in Tonga it’s just not an event without a certificate) and we all relaxed for a bit before heading home.

We got to talking about how frustrating it is to see all the trash around and to have so many people oblivious and apathetic to the problems that rubbish can cause, and it made me think of my father. Tim has spent the past 10 years or so walking the lake in my home town in Massachusetts picking up trash. In America, I’d say our education system is pretty good: everyone, at the very least, knows it’s bad to throw rubbish on the ground or in the lake. Still, he always comes home having picked up buckets of trash. He’s received awards from the town and the community always thanks him, yet hardly anyone goes out and helps. And yes, in high school my brother, sister, and I were routinely mortified when several times a day students and teachers would come up to us to tell us they had seen our father, yet again, picking up trash. Now, we realize what a wonderful thing he’s doing, but it really makes me wonder how, in Tonga, where awareness is nowhere near the level it is in America, how to make people care when even Americans don’t. It just goes to show that rubbish disposal and sustainable living are really global issues.

Still, there’s a representative of a non-profit called Costal Clean-Up in Pangai right now, and she’s organizing a big island-wide trash pick-up day in October. All of the school and youth are involved, and I’m really hoping this makes an impact and the kids start to understand the importance of rubbish disposal. I’ll keep you all posted.

As last week was school vacation (our last one this year) Kate, Brett, Sarah, and I decided to go to Uoleva for a few days of palangi beach time in our bathing suits and a short break from Tongan life. Since this had already been an expensive month with whale watching and a few birthday parties we decided an economical excursion was in order: we would hitch a ride with a Tongan fishing boat going to Uiha, a nearby island, camp in tents, and cook all our food over an open coconut fire so we wouldn’t have to pay to use the kitchen at the guesthouse we would camp at. We made massive preparations, stocked up on food, and even bought some beer to keep in a cooler bag for an evening around the campfire.

Kate and Brett’s neighbor told us that there would be some Tongan boat leaving around 10 or 11am Wednesday morning, after a church concert the previous night, and that we should be ready to go by then. We all headed into town early, did our shopping and final packing and were ready to go around 10:30. Unfortunately, we forgot about Tongan time. Sometime close to 1 o’clock their neighbor and his family pulled up and told us they had to run and errand but they would be back very quickly and then we would go. We waited and waited and finally, close to 5 o’clock, they pulled up screaming at us to hurry and that we had to go right now. Yes, after 6 hours of waiting, all of a sudden we were the ones slowing them down! We went down to the old wharf, which isn’t actually a wharf anymore, just some rocks between the ocean and the land, and loaded onto a Tongan boat. There were several of them leaving for Uiha at the same time, and they all tried to race one another, shouting joking insults to boats with slower engines or more people.

Luckily we got to Uoleva before the sunset and had just enough time to set up our tents and gather wood for a fire. We made a wonderful dinner of roasted hot dogs and fish, vegetable skewers, and corn and potatoes roasted in the fire. Kate’s parents had even sent over marshmallows, which we toasted as a delicious dessert. Some friends of Brian and Sabina’s were out there as well, and they and a French couple came and sat with us around the fire. All was going well, until we felt the first rain drops, which forced us back to our tents.

The next day it just rained. It was cold and gray and yes, rainy. Somehow we managed to cook pancakes over a small fire before it got too wet, and we finished just in time. We sat out a bit and talked, and spent the day reading in our tents and coming out when it was just drizzling. It finally let up around 5, and we gathered what dry and damp wood and coconuts we could find and made another fire. Since it was still drizzling we decided to forego our dinner plans, and just made sandwiches. A few people joined us around the fire again, but once again our plans were spoiled by the rain.

It poured all night, and in the morning, wet and tired, we decided we should probably just concede defeat and head back. It was too wet to start a fire for breakfast so we snacked on some cookies while we waiting on the beach to flag down a Tongan boat to take us back to Pangai. However, it was very cold and windy on the beach, which meant boats were most likely waiting for the weather to calm down a bit before heading to town, which meant we were stranded. Luckily, a boat had been arranged to bring a couple back who were staying at the guest house and we hopped on with them, although we were disappointed because when you go as a tourist it’s pretty expensive.

Still, we were happy to be heading back and all looking forward to some hot tea/coffee and a shower, and the boat ride was fairly uneventful until we saw the Tongan man driving the boat pull out a bag and try to open it. He struggled for a few minutes, trying to open the bag while steering through the reef, and just when we realized the bag was moving he reached in, pulled out a cat, and threw it overboard. We were stunned. I got fairly upset and started asking in Tongan, “Why did you do that? Just why!?” The man told us that the cat had eaten food, and that was it. We spent the rest of the ride shocked and wondering why, if they wanted to kill the cat they didn’t just kill it with a knife, like they do with the pigs, or leave it on the deserted island we were on. Went the cat disappeared from our site it was swimming toward the island, and I really hope it made it to shore.

In the end, despite the rain, it was nice to get away for a few days. But, I realized, even if I can live hear without making giant faux pas, I will never truly understand this culture.

Two Thursdays ago, the week before school vacation, I was working in the garden with the students, since no school was happening and we need to do some serious maintenance before we replow for the summer planting season. I had specifically assigned certain tasks to certain classes, since I did not want 5 year olds wielding machetes and other such things. However, some of the students got a little overexcited and, in their quest to help me, undertook tasks that may have better been left to older, stronger students.

Since we’ve been having a pig problem we decided to reinforce parts of the fence with cement cinder blocks, which the class 6 students were helping me to carry over. One class three student decided this looked like fun, despite the fact that the brick probably weights more than he does. He missed the instructions of what we were actually doing with the blocks, and walked over to my house, where I had gone in to get some string, to ask. When I came outside he was resting the block on the gate of my fence, and I was in the process of telling him to put it down when he decided to pick it up again, and promptly dropped it on my foot. It hurt. A whole lot. I didn’t want to tell any of the teachers how it happened because I knew the child would get hit, and I tried to express that it wasn’t a bit deal, just an accident, but Tongan children are big tattletales, and the poor boy was punished Tongan style.

For the next two days I hobbled around, stopping to sit on the ground with my foot up on whatever I could find, icing it with the frozen soup and fish out of my freezer. True, I was probably up and about a bit more than I should have been, but sitting alone inside my house all day is very boring and I discovered it is possible to ride a bicycle with only one foot, although it’s a bit slow. I also realized that if there’s a place to hurt your foot, this might be it, as no one judges you for not wearing footwear when you go out (my foot was too swollen)- in fact, most people don’t regardless of any medical conditions.

Almost a week later the foot was still hurting quite a bit and pretty swollen, not to mention a lovely green color, so I decided to go to the hospital. I talked briefly to a nurse who told me it’s probably fractured, but that the x-ray machine was still broken (obviously) so they couldn’t check. She offered me some children’s tylenol, which is all the hospital carries, and when I told her I had some pain killers at home she handed me a bag of antibiotics. I asked her if she thought that it was infected, and she said no, that it’s probably broken. I then told her that I didn’t want to take the antibiotics since there wasn’t an infection. I don’t think she liked this show of independent decision making, and she made it clear that there wasn’t anything to do if I wouldn’t take their pills, so I decided to make an oh-so-graceful exit.

As of now, the foot is still sore, but it’s getting better. The swelling is down, and I can put weight on it. If it’s not better by next week I’ll give in and fly to Nuku’alofa to see the doctor and x-ray machine there. In the meantime, I am actively avoiding children carrying heavy objects and keeping my eyes peeled for rogue cinder blocks.

Yesterday, Brian and Sabina organized a special discounted Peace Corps/ JYCA whale watching day. Tonga is a great place to see whales (mostly humpback and pilot) in the spring as they are migrating south with their new calves, and I was so excited to spend a day on the boat and see the whales up close! In Tongan you’re allowed to swim in the water with the whales, provided you observe certain guidelines and are going out with a licensed operator, so before we got to the boat we met at the dive shop and got fitted up in wet suits and snorkel gear. Sadly, all of the old Japanese volunteers are leaving (2 in the next week, and the third in November), and were all busy packing and preparing, but a new volunteer, Koitchi (I definitely spelt that wrong- sorry!) just arrived and he joined up on our trip.

We, Brian, Sabina, Kate, Brett, Phil, Sarah, Koitchi, and I, pulled out of the wharf and almost immediately spotted a mother humpback whale and her baby. We followed them for a while until it looked like we could get in with them. All of the girls jumped in and we started swimming toward the whales, but the mother was a bit skittish and they started swimming away. Looking above the surface of the water we could see their backs and dorsal fins when they lifted them out of the water, and there were just beautiful. Beautiful and ridiculously large. Clearly, we were no match for them once they started swimming, and they quickly got out of range, so we jumped back in the boat and started following them again. We went in two more times until finally we were able to see them briefly under water, before they swam away. It was amazing.

Koitchi and Brian brought their fishing rods with them, and as we set off to try to find more whales who might want to play they started trolling their lines. After a while, Koitchi caught a huge beautiful red grouper, which Brian clubbed to death with a hammer, and it was then we decided to stop for lunch. Since we were fishing as well as whale watching we didn’t have time to land on one of the small islands to eat, so we just set everything up in the boat. Sabina had made a pasta salad, Kate and Brett and Phil had all brought cookies, and Koitchi cut up part of the fish for us to eat raw with some soy sauce.

We kept an eye out for whales the rest of the day, but didn’t spot any more. We did stop a few times to listen to them though. Brian has a special microphone that you can put underwater and it picks up the whales’ songs. We sat still for a good while just listening, and for me, that was the best part of the day. Definitely a huge perk, living in the middle of the ocean, and I hope I can spot a few offshore in the next month while they are still around.

Greetings PC Tonga Group 75! First, congratulations on finally getting your invitation! I hope you’re excited to finally get to Tonga, and believe me, we’re excited to meet you all in October. I’ve heard from other volunteers that some people upon learning their PC country assignment actually do research and check out the blogs of current volunteers for ideas and suggestions of what to bring/ expect…wish I had been that organized.

Anyways, I’ve compiled a short list of things to pack that are beneficial while living in Tonga. By no means will you be able to fit all of what you need into your allotted luggage weight, and, like most of us here, will probably rely on packages from friends and family. (Let me take that beautiful segway to say thank you to my mother, who is wonderful.) Admittedly, this will be more useful to girls, at least in the clothing section, but hopefully there will be tips for all.

Kitchen:

- good kitchen knives, especially one for fish

- measuring cups (liquid and solid, especially if you’re a big baker)

- a frying pan, although less critical

- hanging 3 basket set (complete lifesaver)

- tea/ coffee (depending on your preference- hard to find good stuff here)

- spices (can find the basics here, but, again, if you’re a big cook, you’ll want more)

- bullion cubes

- Brita filter (may seem excessive, but I’ve found it handy)

Bathroom:

- a few bottles of shampoo/ conditioner and soap (sometimes it’s just nice to smell good after a bucket bath)

- contact solution (if you wear contacts)

- tampons (available in Nuku’alofa, but not outside the capital)

- medications: pain killers (Tylenol/Aleeve), cold/flu pills, cough drops

- towel and camping towel

Bedroom

- one set of sheets (tough to find here)

- sleeping bag (for cold nights)

- sleep sack (or something light and compact for summer)

Clothing

- as a general rule, attire is less strict than your welcome packet makes it sound- girls, bring t-shirts and short sleeved button downs, especially in light-weight materials- it doesn’t matter if your arms show. Bring things a bit baggy, because most women here gain weight (yay simple carbs). Conversely, most men lose weight. Also, any clothes you bring here, you will not be bring back home- this country destroys clothing- so don’t pack super nice things!

- more underwear than you think you need (it disintegrates quickly)

- comfortable bras (avoid underwire- it rusts)

- tank tops, especially with wider straps- I wear these around my house

- summer dresses (I wear them over my long Tongan skirt and t-shirts)

- a few sweatshirts/ sweaters (it gets pretty chilly in the winter)

- a pair of sweatpants (again, cold nights)

- a pair or two of linen/ lightweight pants/capris

- swimming shorts

- bathing suits (you will get to wear these sometimes!)

- sewing kit

- rain coat

- I don’t find that I need much jewelry, make-up, or hair dryers, etc., but it’s personal preference

- sneakers (if you run)

- flip flops/ crocs

- sturdy hiking/walking sandal (don’t bring much footwear- you’re only really going to need 3 pairs of shoes/sandals)

Misc.

- watch

- tent (if you plan on doing some camping)

- duct tape (a must have)

- gifts for homestay family (calendar of your home, small toys, books, scented soaps/candles)

- i-pod or music device with external speakers (yes, you will be singing out loud while alone in your house, and it will be wonderful)

- external hard drive (great for photo and movie storage, plus computers die in Tonga)

- rechargeable batteries (Tonga has no battery disposal or recycling)

- flashlight and headlamp

- Leatherman/ utility tool

- snorkel gear (although there is some floating around the PC offices)

- photos of family and friends

Best of luck wrapping up everything back home, and enjoy the whirlwind of the last month in the US. Take as many hot showers as possible and eat at all your favorite restaurants. If you have any questions, please feel free to email me. I’m looking forward to meeting you all in a month or so!

It’s been a sad and frustrating few days here in Ha’apai. One of the inter-island cargo and passenger boats that most Tongans and tourists rely on to travel to and from various islands within the country and that all cargo is transported on, sank two nights ago. The Princess Ashika, as it was called, was on its way to Pangai, the capital of Ha’apai when it sank around midnight. Some of the men who were on the top deck were able to jump overboard, some into life boats, and were picked up by the other ferry, the Pulupaki, and brought to Ha’afeva and Pangai.

Everything we’d heard up to that point had been on the radio, which wasn’t horribly informative or precise. The news kept reporting that there were only 79 people aboard, including a 30 person crew, but everyone in Tonga knew that was not the case. Initially reports said that only 27 people were missing; now that number is up to 85 and will probably increase. Most of the surviving passengers who were brought to Pangai were not on the official ship’s manifest, since not everyone who rode bought tickets, and some who did bought them at the wharf, not the office, where no record of name is taken. Everyone has been in a frenzy these past few days trying to figure out who was actually on the boat and missing, and lots of families in this area are still waiting.

The worst part, by far, of all of this is that no children have been found yet, and they are not even sure how many children were on the boat, as children never require tickets. They’ve also only found one woman. Typically, the women and kids go down to the lower two decks and cabins to sleep (the ferries usually cross at night from Tonga) since it’s much warmer and more comfortable, and the men stay up on the decks smoking and talking, or sleep on the second level. When I rode the ferry back from Nuku’alofa I sat on the top deck to help with the seasickness, but it was terribly cold being completely exposed to the wind. Apparently, the ship sank very quickly, and the thinking is that the women and children were trapped below and were never able to get out of the boat.

I went down to the wharf on Thursday when the Pulupaki landed with the survivors, and I’ve never seen the wharf so crowded. Most of the island was there trying to figure out who was getting off the boat, crying, and gossiping. The entire hospital and police staffs came down and to take care of the survivors and take records of names. I was looking for a woman and a child for a volunteer and his friends in Vava’u- the feeling of helplessness as I went around to all the nurses trying to get answers was overwhelming, especially when we all realized no children had been on the rescue boat. A JYCA volunteer (the Japanese equivalent to Peace Corps) who worked for the shipping company was also on the ship as a crew member, and is still missing.

The Tongan government has asked New Zealand and Australia for air assistance to continue searching and divers to try and bring bodies up from the wreckage. The radio said they arrived at 11pm last night, and are presumably out there today, although the weather is terrible. The Royal New Zealand Airforce has also been here since Thursday and has taken over most of the operations.

There are a lot of things I’m upset and frustrated about from this, but the biggest cause is the lack of responsibility that allows the government to continue to get old used boats second hand while they wait for another country to give them a new one (the Princess Ashika was acquired from Fiji to replace the ‘Olovaha, the old boat that broke down every other week; they are waiting for a new boat that Japan has promised to donate initially for 2010, now in 2011). The radio new has also been terribly uninformative, throwing out worthy quotes such as the reason that there is only one woman survivor is because “women are weak and need to be taken care of.”

More than that, it’s just so sad. People here can’t afford the absurdly inflated flight prices, which leaves them with no option other than the ferries. Everyone here is just worried and upset- it’s going to be a rough week.

http://www.matangitonga.to/article/tonganews/outerislands/20090808_ashika_85missing.shtml

After one of the more eventful, harrowing, and frustrating series of flights in recent memory, Thomas finally arrived in Tonga on June 13th at 3:00am. (To make a long story short, his flight from Philadelphia to Los Angeles was delayed, Thom sat in someone else’s vomit, and he missed the international flight from LA to Tonga by less than 30 minutes. After lots of unnecessary struggling and bitchy airline employees he eventually got to New Zealand and from there was able to make his way to Tonga, although his luggage remained in LA for a few more days, just to make things fun- for a full and detailed report of this trip and reasons why you should fly Air New Zealand and purchase traveler’s insurance, please contact Mr. Gennaro.) Things immediately improved upon his arrival: the Tongan military marching band and prince and princess even greeted his plane on the tarmac as it landed. The official rumor was that they were there to escort several high ranking nobles, who required their own personal flight attendant in first class, delaying the plane for an hour in Auckland while the airline found additional personnel to work the flight, on their way back to Tonga for the former Prime Minister’s funeral, but we know better.

Although we didn’t get back to our guest house until 5am Thom’s first day in Tonga could not be spent in bed. Because his luggage was still MIA, he had been wearing the same clothes for more days than was advisable, and we were stuck in Tongatapu until Monday we ventured out pretty early and down to the Saturday market by the wharf to pick up the essentials. We met up with Marloucha, who has graciously let me crash at her house for much longer than she initially agreed to as the planes kept getting delayed, and set out to procure items of clothing for Thom and imported cereal for me (Frosted Mini Wheats!), which for some reason can only be found in the capital at this flea market. We bought some t-shirts and shorts fairly cheaply, but the item we most desperately needed was not to be found: men’s underwear. After scouring the market and me making a fool of myself asking all the vendors, mostly older women, for said item, Thom and I virtually sprinted to the one semi-“department store” in Tonga before it closed at noon (everything would be closed the following day as well- it’s illegal to open businesses on Sunday, with the exception of bakeries in the evening). The pickings were slim, but we finally found some workable garments. It wasn’t until we arrived back at the guest house that we realized there was a sticker on the package marking the underwear’s “imperfect fit”- in essence we bought damaged underwear, which I would highly recommend if you need a good laugh. We took full advantage of our time in Nuku’alofa to visit some pretty snazzy restaurants, eat a lot of good food, drink beer without fear of angry glares, and catch up away from the prying eyes of my village. It was pretty wonderful. And, as the US dollar is worth about two Tongan pa’anga we got to see a side of Tonga I hadn’t yet experienced on my Peace Corps budget.

We headed back to Ha’apai that Monday afternoon, burdened with as much produce as we could carry. Most of the first day was spent settling in and walking to town to carry the air mattress back from the office there as my ‘bed’ is possibly the most painful thing to sleep on in the entire country and I wanted to keep eyebrow raising and gossip to a minimum in my village by having ‘Tomasi’s bed’. Annoyingly, I had a PC workshop for the next two days and essentially ditched Thom (to be fair he was first invited and then uninvited to the workshop by some really stellar PC employees- but, that is indeed another story for another time) but he still managed to find his way around our small island quite nicely. My neighbors took wonderful care of his for those first few days: Lupe cooked incredible amounts of food and came to chat, and Fotu didn’t leave Thom’s side, making great efforts to teach him Tongan while simultaneously doing all the things I never let him do in my house. Thom also promptly picked up the Tongan custom of suto, hitchhiking, and somehow enlisted several of the boys at my school to show him around town and climb all over the boats docked at the wharf. Sadly, as this was the week before the two week school break and I had the workshop and a site visit, he never actually got to see school happen, but he still met some of the kids, and we got to play with them a bit.

For Thom’s first Sunday in Tonga Sefo, a wonderful man with no teeth (this becomes important later) who I often bake for, invited us to a kai pola, Tongan feast, at his church in Holopeka, the neighboring village. I helped Lupe do a bit of the cooking and then Thom experienced his first Church of Tonga service, decked out in full Tongan apparel: his very own tupeno, a formal wrap skirt, and a ta’ovala, giant woven mat, that Lupe and Le’o let us borrow. He looked quite dashing, and I hope some photos survived of us in the formal church wear. After church is was time to eat. The feast was held in the church hall, and we all sat on the ground around obscene amounts of food. Thom was very hungry (shocking, I know) and very adventurous, trying all sorts of foods from raw fish, to octopus, to root crop, and even managed to continue eating for longer than most Tongans…no easy feat. As the feast was wrapping up Thom finally decided he wanted to try the roast pig, but was too embarrassed to serve himself. As he was going back and forth on the matter I finally got fed up and dug into the pig myself, literally, with my hands, and pulled out a few chunks of puaka and put them on his plate. At this, all the men we were sitting across from burst out laughing, thrilled that I was serving my boyfriend and pleased at what a wonderful wife I would be…obviously I loved this attention. I helped clean up while Thom made valiant attempts to stand up and stretch his legs, and then we headed back home to enjoy a very Tongan Sunday of laying around digesting, baking, and going for an eva.

We had planned on going to ‘Uoleva, an uninhabited island just to the south of Lifuka, and staying at a resort for a romantic beach getaway on Monday, but as luck would have it Sunday evening brought some pretty intense storms, and we spent the day moping up my flooded house and bleaching the floors instead. Luckily, the weather cleared up, and we spent the next three days in chilly beach paradise. I’m not quite sure how to sum up ‘Serenity Beaches’, that’s the name of the resort we stayed at, except to say that it was wonderful. It’s owned by Patti, an amazing if spacey woman, and she built this place with help from her boyfriend Semi. They are some of the kindest people, and we had a great stay there. We had our own little fale, and even though it was quite cold at night and there’s no electricity, it was perfect- Patti has stocked endless candles in all the fales and the main areas, and the result is very picturesque. We met a great British couple there, and as the resort doesn’t have their liquor license yet and can’t sell beer Semi made all dinners more entertaining by keeping drinks in constant supply to share. Most of our time was spent sleeping in, lounging and reading on the beach and walking, although we did have a very memorable kayak foray, and of course Thom had to spend a few hours one afternoon running around the entire island; I preferred to eat cookies and finish my book. It was quite nice and a bit necessary to get away from my village and Tongans for a while and just be able to be ourselves without have to check constantly to make sure we were the requisite 5 feet apart when out in public. Needless to say, we really didn’t want to leave.

The rest of our time in Ha’apai was spent basically hanging out. Thom got to meet the other volunteers here with me, and we all went out one night for Kate’s birthday. We walked around my village, worked in the garden, played catch with a disc (although Thom was invited to play rugby one afternoon while we were throwing and left me for a bunch of Tongan men), and chatted with my neighbors. During on of the more memorable talks about education in Tonga we were all sitting outside in the school yard, when Le’o abruptly asked Thom if he was hungry. Obviously, Thom enthusiastically told him that he was indeed hungry, despite my warning glances, and then Le’o turned to me to let me know that I should probably leave the discussion and go prepare Thom’s food…oh traditional gender roles! We also took a few bike trips up to Foa, the island to the north of Lifuka connected by a landbridge, and to the beach and resort at the furthest tip of the island. Partially because it’s tourist season and there are other palangis and partially because it’s winter and no Tongan is silly enough to want to go swimming now, we were able to wear bathing suits and generally act Western in Foa, which was very nice. I even went in the water twice to appease Mr. Gennaro who made countless references to my lack of strength and climate wimpiness.

On Thom’s last day in Koulo, my neighbors prepared a farewell feast, which we ate at their house with their family and some friends, including Sefo. Sefo even went out the night before to try and catch some fish for this lunch, although sadly nothing big was biting and we ate quite a few baby fish. This was endlessly amusing to many members of the crowd, especially Le’o who kept cracking jokes such as “their mothers are sad now because they can’t find their babies.” Sefo was also berated for not being able to eat the fish because he has no teeth and for having to eat soft food like a baby. This was all very witty and funny, especially to Sefo, who laughed the loudest each time. Lupe made some amazing ‘ota ‘ika and Le’o even killed one of his chickens for us to eat. It was such a kind and lovely gesture, and it meant a lot that the family I’m closest to really enjoyed having Thom here and were so supportive. Le’o especially really liked having another man next door, and stopped by a lot while Thom was here just to chat, something he never does with me, and kept inviting him to go play rugby. The whole family has invited Thom back next year, something we’re both really hoping will be able to happen, and all of our time in Koulo and Lifuka was lovely. That was definitely the happiest I’ve been since I arrived in Tonga.

From Ha’apai we made a quick pit stop in Tongatapu and the next morning caught the ferry out to the island of ‘Eua. While Ha’apai is full of flat sandy beaches, ‘Eua is the complete opposite and is covered in huge hills and dense forests and rainforests. There are even rivers through the island and waterfalls, not that we managed to find those. We stayed at an adorable guest house on the edge of the national park where we met lots of interesting travelers, and despite an abrupt change in our marital status courtesy of a concerned ‘Eua PC volunteer we had a great time. To be fair, I’d never been to ‘Eua before, and thus we spent a better part of our two and a half days there lost, primarily in the forest. But, the people were lovely and wonderfully friendly and the woods were gorgeous. We didn’t really find any of the “sights” since there are not really any trails through the forest and even fewer signs, but I think it’s safe to say that we had a very nice time nonetheless, despite Thom’s random bursts of patriotism and his American flag bandana on the 4th of July.

Sadly, we had to go back to Tongatapu Monday morning, which meant catching the ferry at 4:00am- why the hell it has to leave that early no one knows. For our last full day in Tonga we gift shopped at the market and a few stores, and were joined by the lovely Melanie for our final dinner in town.

It was so wonderful having Thom here, and I hope he enjoyed seeing where I live and a bit of what I’m doing over here. Granted, it was quite difficult to say goodbye again, and I’m still readjusting, but it was the best month ever. You are all highly encouraged to follow Mr. Gennaro’s example and come for your own Tongan holiday- I would love more visitors at any time.

Hi all. So, the blog’s been on a bit of a hiatus as of late, but I am going to do my best to bring it up to speed as succinctly and painlessly as possible. It’s been a pretty eventful couple of months, not necessarily work-wise (school’s been on a month-long plus break but we’re finally getting back into the swing of things), and there’s a lot to tell.

Also, for those of you who may be in the greater US this December, I am coming home for Christmas. I’ll be back from the 23rd of December until the 6th of January, most likely hiding out in various parts of Massachusetts and possibly New York going through severe culture shock, avoiding crowds, eating copious amounts, and taking as many hot showers and baths as possible, so if you are at all in the area, I would love to catch up. Sadly, my time home will be limited due to a fairly restricted number of vacation days afforded to PC volunteers, but any and all of you are welcome and encouraged to come visit the Kingdom at any time!

I’ve been missing you all, my family and friends, very much these past few weeks, and I am looking forward to seeing you all again more than I can express. To all of you who have sent emails and letters and packages I can’t thank you enough. It’s been quite a rollercoaster here.

‘Ofa ‘atu!

Well, I’m back in Tonga, land of the boiled ‘ufi and kapa pulu. Australia, which may henceforth be know as land of the dead kangaroos on the side of the road and large expanses of straight and open roads, was absolutely amazing and wonderful. I flew into Melbourne, which is pronounced without the "r”, from Sydney and had a wonderful reunion with Eric at the baggage claim (read: I almost tackled him and made a big scene), and within minutes we were driving through a city, on a highway, and I was freaking out a little bit. Reintroduction to city life and culture was and will continue to be a bit of a challenge.

Eric had recently purchased a functioning little car, and we drove to our hostel in the St. Kilda neighborhood of the city, which was nice and cozy yet strangely populated with a large number of permanent and semi-permanent Australians who all knew one another and spent every evening have parties in the common room. All in all, it was a bit awkward at times, especially given the state of mine and Eric’s social skills compounded with the fact that I’ve been living in Tonga and he had been driving around the Outback alone…winning combination right there. But, there were hot water showers (!!!), mechanical laundry facilities, and a kitchen, which more than canceled out our own social clumsiness.

Melbourne was an adorable city, and I really enjoyed our time there. As you might imagine a fair amount of our itinerary revolved around finding and consuming food: culinary highlights from Melbourne include an all vegetarian restaurant that Eric willing went to without smuggling bacon in, the Queen Victoria market (every kind of fruit, vegetable, herb, cheese, and olive available), an epic search for bagels in the Jewish neighborhood which ended in vain because the city was practically shut down on Good Friday (government holiday there, who knew?), the awesome burgers and veggie burgers we found after failing to find bagels, real bakeries and lots of bread, sidewalk cafes on almost every street, a neighborhood of cake shops, lots of sushi, an awesome bar in the upstairs of a shop in a tiny little alley, and a six-pack of Sam Adams that we located in a specialty beer shop.

Aside from food, we did a lot of walking and exploring the various neighborhoods of the city, all of which would aptly be described as cute, riding the snazzy public transportation trams, and generally seeing the sights, including a great art museum with lots of older and modern Aboriginal art. Melbourne was by no means a large city, and it had an incredibly cozy feel to it, along with the most variety of neighborhoods and ethnic centers of all the cities in Australia. We also took a day and drove part of the Great Ocean Highway, along the coast of Australia. It was indescribably beautiful and there were plenty of overlooks and small paths down to cliffs overlooking the ocean. And, definite highlight of the trip, we saw several koala bears, just chilling in their trees! There were just as adorable as I had hoped they would be and all looked like grumpy old men. We unanimously decided that if Eric were to be reborn in animal form, he would most definitely be a koala.

We stayed for 5 days in Melbourne, and then it was time to hit the open road. We drove for two days through the ‘bush’ and then through the outback, sleeping in Eric’s tiny car, a feat of no small achievement, and cooking on a small propane burner at rest stops. And, I was more than successful in convincing and demonstrating to Mr. Ashcroft that living and eating out of one’s car does not mean one must subsist solely on pb&j sandwiches. In addition, during our time on the road, we saw many cows, ridiculous road signs warning about the cows on the road, even more ridiculous and rhyming road signs warning against driving while tires (favorites include: Fatigue is Fatal; Take a Break, Stay Awake for Safety’s Sake; and Survive This Drive), road trains (giant trucks pulling at least 5 trailers while driving on the wrong side of the road on tiny little two lane roads- terrifying), and dead kangaroos. Now, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I have a small bone to pick with Australia: I came more excited to see kangaroos than anything else. There are hundreds of thousands of kangaroos all over the continent in many colors, shapes, and sized. But, despite the fact that Eric has seen more than he can remember, from the second I get to your country the only kangaroos I see are road-kill. Why? Also worth mentioning are the flies. Insane numbers of flies live off of who knows what in this wilderness, and instantly swarm anything that is moving slower than a car. Thankfully they disappeared at night because it was so cold (I bought a giant pair of sweatpants, socks, and a sweater in Melbourne- the tropics have made me weak!).

Finally, after countless outback towns consisting of a gas station and a motel and opal mines, we reached Uluru. After pitching our cozy little tent at a very overpriced campground in a small town built and inhabited totally by tourists (admittedly, it was a little strange) we drove out to Uluru, formally, and less politically correctly, known as Ayers Rock, to watch the sunset. While it was a bit overcast and slightly anticlimactic, we did hear an amazing country song fittingly entitled “There’s a Rainbow Over the Rock” chesseily (yes, I’m trying to make that an adverb) blasting from one of the many 4WDs that Australian families had rented for their outback vacation. Classic. Aside from being constantly terrified of the numerous things that can kill you in the outback, I really enjoyed our time here.

For the next couple days we perfect the art of rapidly making morning beverages and oatmeal for breakfast before the flies could descend, and spent the rest of the next two days hiking around Uluru and Kata Tjuta, which are both part of the same national park and a World Heritage Site. First, Eric and I did the base walk around Uluru, which was pretty amazing, despite being covered in flies for the majority of the time. Eric even bought a hat with pictures of flies on it in some effort to trick them, but alas, it was to no avail. Although I did enjoy making fun of him for wearing the hat. Uluru itself is immense, and there are caves, overhangs, and Aboriginal carvings around a large portion of the rock. Most of Uluru are sacred Aboriginal sites for either the men or the women, and as non-Aboriginals we aren’t privy to the information or details of why or where each of these exist. There was some more information about the importance of Uluru to the Aboriginals and some basic versions of important myths and tales that occurred there in a very well run visitor’s center that we visited a few times, and all of it was really interesting. There was also information about how the National Park Service and the original Aboriginal landowners have recently formed a governing board to jointly manage the land and parks services. Once last note on this is how impressive it is that a civilization could flourish in the middle of a desert, and some of the survival techniques and sources of food and water are just amazing. We also went on a short guided walk with a park ranger the following morning to a small water hole (but, it being the middle of the desert, the water level was pretty low) and aside from one ridiculous woman (there’s always one) it was really great. Also, Eric got the first of many chance to demonstrate his impressive knowledge of rocks and geography to himself and me, which is always fun.

We also hiked Kata Tjuta, somehow anglicized to “The Olgas”, which, frankly, I loved, even more than Uluru. It was about 45 kilometers away from Uluru, and the loop trail lead down into a lush valley surrounded by twelve giant rock formations. The views were stunning, and there’s no way I can describe how lovely it was with any justice. Sufficed to say, this was my favorite part of the entire trip.

We came out to Uluru with the set intention to climb it. It’s a pretty difficult climb, especially in the heat and sun, and we wanted to make sure we started early enough in the day to climb the tough ascent before the sun really kicked it and that we had plenty of water, food, and proper attire. The first day we set out to climb, the trail was closed due to high wind. Same thing happened the second day. On the third day, our last shot at climbing, what do you think happened? That’s right, it rained. In the desert. In a place where it rains a few times each year. And it wasn’t even enough rain to create awesome waterfalls and such off the rock. Just a small steady sprinkle. Needless to say, we were, and probably still are, highly disappointed.

I suppose the plus side is that we ended up leaving a day early and thus were able to make it to Adelaide with a fair portion of a day left to see a bit of the city. The most notable event from our two-day drive to Adelaide was our flat tire in the middle of nowhere (thankfully we had a spare in the trunk), and our eventful hour at a rest-stop town in which I proved to be quite gifted at playing the damsel in distress who doesn’t know anything about cars. Seriously, I need to learn how to change a tire. In Adelaide Eric and I were somehow delegated out of the main hostel and into what amounted to the couples dorm across the street, which was actually very nice and comfy, and meant we didn’t have to deal with or talk to that many hostel people. We wandered a bit, and after several thwarted attempts to eat fun vegetarian food on a Sunday night in a town where everything is closed, we were successful in locating a Chinese restaurant (hooray for the Chinese and their long business hours) and had a very pleasant last meal together accompanied by an extremely intoxicated group of young professionals.

Sadly, I had to leave early the next morning, and after a tearful goodbye and a delayed flight I made it to Sydney where I had an eight-hour layover before my flight to Tonga. I figured out the train system, which is wonderfully run but horribly expensive, and went down to Circular Quay to see the bridge and the Opera House, snap a few photos, wander around, and grab lunch. Then, it was back to the airport and the Kingdom of Tonga.

The trip was a wonderful break, and the company was indescribably needed. I loved Australia, and only wish I had had more time there. Now, it’s back to work and real life, although the tim-tams I brought back will make it a bit sweeter (excuse the pun, I really couldn’t help myself [I know Thom, even after that NY Times op. ed. piece]) for at least a week.

Sundays in May are a big deal, and for the entire month, a specific Sunday is dedicated to honoring a section of the family. First there is Children’s Sunday, followed my Mother’s Sunday, and then Father’s Sunday. And, as I am neither a mother nor a father, it was decided that I should participate in Children’s Sunday. I was told that the children would recite biblical lessons, read hymns, do action songs, reenact biblical stories, and sing songs. All the children from pre-school through high school would be participating.

The week leading up to Children’s Sunday there were rehearsals every night, and I would stop by for a bit to watch. Usually though, after two hours or so, I inevitably got bored and would wander home. I also noticed a huge influx in the number of women weaving, and, as the week progressed, many groups of them would stay up all night weaving, as I finally figured out, new ta’ovalas and kiekias for their children and sewing new clothes.

The Thursday before the big day one of my neighbors who works at the airport came up to me and told me I would be reading a hymn on Children’s Sunday. What he failed to mention, but I astutely discovered at the dress rehearsal that evening, was that I would be doing my reading with his 5-year old son, who is in class 1 at my school. And, since the program starts with the youngest children and works its way up, who do you think started off the service? Oh yes, yours truly. And, all the kids had been practicing for months, and all of them, even the 4 and 5-year olds, had their verses and hymns memorized. I, as you may guess, very much did not, and with only two days until Sunday I just accepted the fact that I wouldn’t and was resigned to my fate as the only child reading from a hymn book.

On the Sunday itself there was the normal morning church service, followed by a huge feast in honor of the children, for which I made some pretty delicious custard cake parfaits, if I do say so myself. Phil, Kate, and Brett joined me for church in the morning and for the feast that followed, which made it all a lot more fun, even though there was a pig’s butt literally inches away from my face the entire feast. All of the children were dressed in white for church, and it was amazing how quickly a room of children dressed in white at a feast get collectively filthy.

After the feast, everyone ran home to change, and an hour later we were back at the church ready to start the program. Lupe, my neighbor, and Vasiti, the mother of a girl in class 1, decked me out in true Tongan fashion with a woven shirt, three ta’ovalas as my skirt, and a giant necklace of woven palm leaves. Once we got to the church Sā, my five-year old buddy, and I did our recitation/reading to start off the services, and all went smoothly until Muimui, my dog, saw me up on the alter and decided that’s where he should be too. Now, dogs in church are definitely frowned upon, but dogs on the scared alter- giant faux pas. Lupe ran up and grabbed him, and I finished my reading to wild approval and tears from the older ladies in the village (they loved me) and laughs from my students at my mispronunciations and the fact that I was reading with a class 1 student (obviously, they were less impressed).

I shuffled back to a pew- it’s really quite difficult to walk in giant woven mats- and was trying to find a way to sit without sliding off the bench when Muimui came bounding back in. This time, he saw Fotu, my neighbor’s four-year old son, reciting his lesson. Lupe and I brought him outside and tied him to the outside of the church, but after about a half hour he was whining so loudly you could hear him over the singing (Tongans sing incredibly loudly, so this was actually quite impressive) so we untied him, and he spent the rest of the service sleeping under my pew.

Three and a half hours later we finally wrapped up Children’s Sunday. Everyone did very well, although the older kids’ lessons took twice as long because each one of them would start to cry and have to stop until some small child ran up with a handkerchief from someone. It’s a Tongan thing to get very into your speeches and bible lessons and cry. I was very happy to get home, take off the woven clothing (which is very beautiful but a bit lacking in terms of comfort and ventilation) and relax.

I awoke yesterday morning to the sound of my name being repeatedly called from outside my window, “Alisi! Alisi! Alisi! Alisi!” My neighbor was standing outside and he wanted to get the vegetable seeds from inside my house to soak in water before we planted them this afternoon. I gave him the seeds, and he informed me that in school in the morning we were going to have a nutrition class about eating plants, and invited me to attend. Now, in conjunction with the garden we’re planting I’m working to create lessons/presentations about healthy eating and tie that into environmental issues. So, I was a bit upset that no one had told me about this before, or asked if I wanted to help. Nevertheless, I told him I would love to come, and brought along a notebook and pencil to take notes. This proved to be both foolish and an indication of the fact that I am still not totally immersed into local culture.

However, as it was Friday, we first had our weekly teacher’s meeting and Ministry of Education radio broadcast first. Apparently there is an influx of pirated DVDs of “Prison Break” and “24” in circulation at the moment, and we spent a good hour and a half discussing these captivating shows in surprising detail. Sadly, as I have seen neither, I wasn’t able to contribute a whole lot to the discussion, but I did put in a plug for “Heroes” (yes, I just finished season 1, and while I didn’t really like it at first, I am hooked now) and “Lost” (I got season 4 and part of 5 from Kate and Brett this week…this only spells trouble and a loss of productivity- all of my London girls can clearly vouch for this).

As our “meeting” was winding down I noticed a large number of mothers driving into the school yard and unloading truck-loads of food. They all came and sat outside the classroom with what amounted to a huge feast. This, of course, should have been another clear indication that a Tongan nutrition and plant-eating class may not be precisely what I had in mind. Still, I was completely taken by surprise when all the kids from classes 5 and 6, along with their siblings in other classes (so, practically the whole school) came into the classroom and sat on the floor around large lengths of table cloths that stretched across the entire room.

One of our teachers then walked up to the front of the room to begin the lesson. First, the children named every different type of food that was on their plate. Then, the teacher stated that eating food was good for you, and eating food from plants was also good. After that, she explained that black people and Chinese people were usually very skinny because they don’t have enough food. Also, they eat a lot of vegetables. But, the Tongan people are sino lelei (sino means both “fat” and body”, lelei means good; thus sino lelei is a good body because one is fat) because they have plenty of food and they eat meakai fakaTonga (Tongan food). Then she named some Tongan food that she particularly liked, mostly various root crops. Finally, our principal came to the front, blessed the food and said a prayer, and then everyone commenced literally stuffing their faces. And that was it. That was the school’s nutrition class, and it lasted maybe five minutes.

Of course the mothers jumped into a frenzy because I wasn’t eating and began snatching food away from their children and piling it in front of me, but, as soon as I was able to pick my jaw up off the floor, I jumped down and sat with the kids to eat. And eat we did; these kids meant business. Many of them started unbuckling their pants and untying their dresses. One kid even ate so much he threw up. Looking around at the array of fried foods, fatty, processed meat, and simple carbohydrates, I tried to spot some vegetables, as this was also ‘eat plants time’. The closest thing I found was pele (a leafy green that tastes like kale) mixed with kapa pulu (canned grade-D corned beef) and smothered in coconut cream.

Once I got over the initial shock and twinge of anger, I had to admit it was pretty funny, and periodically burst into laughter which the Tongans loved, even if they didn’t understand what I found so amusing. And yes, I am definitely rethinking how to conduct my nutrition classes, if I am able to do them in the future.

I've known I wanted to join Peace Corps for years. But it's not until you actually get settled in another country, until you have a house and a job and friends and a community that is so completely removed from your life back in America that the 27 month commitment really sinks in. There have been some pretty high highs and several desperatly low lows thus far, and some mornings you can't help but think, 'what am I doing here?', but all in all I'm really glad I'm here.

Still, especially when things happen back in the US, I wonder if it's right for me to be here, if the questions I'm asked weekly by my Tongan community aren't a bit valid. Other than wanting to know why I'm not married, most people usually ask me why I left my family and friends, why I'm so far from home. I've thought a lot about this, particuarly this week, and I'm finally able to start reconciling my thoughts and feelings. There are going to be important events, both joyful celebrations and tearful goodbyes, that I miss as a result of being here. But as long as some part of me can still be there, and I know I'm making a difference or doing a bit of good, it's worth it.

All of my group is in Nuku'alofa (the name of the capital, which translated means "the abode of love"- isn't that beautiful) right now for training, and I'm hoping we come out of this mini (and much needed) break and time together reenergized and ready to tackle the challenges we've all come up against.

In addition, I am flying to Australia on Monday for my first vacation. I am meeting up with Eric and we're planning some epic roadtripping and sightseeing that will take us from the city of Melbourne, up to Uluru, and over to Adelaide over the course of two weeks. I am so excited to see Eric again- I could really use some time with a good friend right now- and to finally visit Australia, the land of kangaroos and tim-tams. I probably won't be posting for a few weeks, but I will be sure to compile a massive summary upon my return.

Know I'm thinking of all of you, and that I would have given anything to be in DC this past week. Also, to those undergrad ultimate players, especially seniors, who may read this blog, best of luck at Sectionals this weekend- I'm cheering for you!

Last week was a pretty eventful one, as many of you saw via internet news sources. First, thank you to everyone who sent a concerned/worried/impressed email- I am completely fine, and I really appreciate that you were all thinking of me!

So this whole chain of events (at least from my perspective) started with a previously underwater volcano that decided, hmmm, life down here is getting pretty boring, I should probably stir things up. It is located between the island groups of Tongatapu and Ha’apai, although closer to Tongatapu, erupted at the beginning of last week, and from what I have heard, it was a pretty incredible sight. My first indication that something had happened was when no planes came into the airport all day on Tuesday. Since I live right next to the airport (literally, check google maps) I’ve become buddies with most of the airport employees. Usually our friendship extends primarily to yelling morning greetings over the roar of the airplane engines, but in the absence of any planes or work going on, I headed over to chat with some of the workers to see why things had come to a standstill. Most of the airport grounds workers speak only Tongan, but I was able to conclude that there was a reason the planes weren’t running, ie the problem wasn’t that they were all maumau (broken) as has happened frequently in the past. When no planes came in the following day either, I sought out another source of information, who told me that there had been a volcano in the ocean, and the radio news broadcast that morning confirmed this info…although I was still pretty shaky on where the volcano was and what, if any damage it had caused. Most people I talked to were either unaware of the volcano or wholly unconcerned, so I deduced there hadn’t been any casualties or damage, and decided to carry on as usual until the internet started working and I could check the news over the weekend.

However, on Thursday morning, I was woken up by a pretty rough and violent shaking. Looking up through my mosquito net, I could see the discs and mirror on my wall falling off, and my immediate thought was something like, “Ugh, I don’t have to be up for another hour.” followed by, “I hope my mirror doesn’t break- it’s from Nuku’alofa and I have no idea where I’ll find another one.” There are earthquakes from time to time in Tonga, it being a string of tiny islands in the middle of a very large ocean perched on several tectonic plates along the Tongan Trench, but this one was a bit larger than most and lasted for a good two minutes or so. Still, nothing much to worry about.

It wasn’t until later that morning when, listening to the radio over a cup of tea before school, I began to grow concerned. For the serious topics or things that are transmitted from other countries, the radio will be in English, at least for a little bit, and it was then I heard that a tsunami warning had been issued, I think from Hawaii. Crap- Ha’apai, in particular, is a very low-lying island group (the last storm we had washed out a huge chunk of the main road and several houses) and if a tsunami were to hit, we’d all be screwed. Actually screwed…well, probably more like dead, but you get the point. Apparently, the earthquake (or maybe the volcano) has set some events in motion, and things were not looking good. Thankfully, the warning was cancelled about 15 minutes after it was issued, a fact PC obviously missed, as they called later that morning to issue a ‘code white’ alert, which they then rescinded a few hours later.

In the end, we all came out completely fine, although slightly baffled as to how people half way around the world knew what was happening here before we did- one PCV here found out about the volcano from friends in California. I’m just hoping that the volcano is still acting up a bit, or at least smoking, when I fly over it on Monday on my way back to Nuku’alofa for In Service Training (IST) with PC…I’d hate to be so close to such an awesome phenomenon and not even get to see it!

Greetings All! Well, it took some detective work and many persistent phone calls, but we finally figured out why out internet has been off for the past two weeks. Apparently, PC has neglected to pay the internet bill since last August, yes, August 2007, and so the Tongan owned TCC company finally got around to shutting off the connection. Now, while I do blame PC for failing to pay and failing to recognize they were not paying (for, you know, a year and a half), to be fair, the bills have been being sent to…well, we’re not actually sure where. Anyways, the debt has been paid, and once again, we have access to the wonderful world wide web.

After a morning of rain and hand-washing laundry, I headed into town last Saturday to pick up some supplies for myself and my neighbors and to stop by and visit with Kate and Bret. They had, through some miracle of fate, secured an avocado (holy crap- an item of produce that’s not a banana!) and we formed grand plans to eat said avocado together later that evening. As I had a few kilos of rapidly dethawing chicken in my backpack for my neighbors, I decided to bike home, drop off my purchases, and return to Pangai. However, when I arrived home, I astutely noticed that there were feather scattered all over my yard. Upon closer inspection, I deduced them to be chicken feathers and, walking around to the backyard, I saw a very dead, very naked chicken in a pot of boiling water over a coconut fire. My neighbor, Le’o, came over to me with a huge grin on his face.

A few weeks prior I had been talking to Le’o and Lupe and they asked me why I don’t eat meat- a very fair questions, especially in Tonga. I did my best to explain the environmental concerns I have with eating meat and the volume that is consumed, but really tried to focus in on my complaints with the meat industry in most first world countries. I told them how, most of the time, animals are kept in cages and squalid living conditions, and, to prevent illness, are given lots of chemicals, and how the food they are given is often full of chemicals as well. For these reasons, I explained, I stopped eating meat.

As Le’o came up to me, smiling, he started to tell me about how he’s been thinking a lot about our conversation about why I don’t eat meat, and how he agrees and thinks that my reasons are good ones. But, again stressing how much he’d been thinking about it, he’d found a solution: I could eat moa fakaTonga! Tongan chicken, namely the chickens that run around everywhere, is distinctly different from the chicken that is bought frozen at the Chinese shops, which is imported from NZ, and usually only eaten on special occasions or in times when there are no other options, though usually after all the neighborhood dogs have been finished up. Tongan chicken, he said, is not kept in cages- indeed they roam about where ever they please, even in my house- and aren’t given any chemicals, they are organic chickens (his phrase). They only eat coconut and grass, and none of this has any chemicals either. Therefore, I could happily eat meat again in Tonga!

I was so touched by how amazingly thoughtful and kind this gesture was: not only had he seriously listened to what I was saying before, but he thought about it and analyzed it, quite literally, and found a solution. The thought that maybe I wouldn’t want to eat meat never factored into this- after all, who wouldn’t want to eat meat!?- and it wasn’t anything I even mentioned. So, I sat down to a meal of Tongan chicken with my neighbors, and was pleasantly surprised. Once I got over the whole “crap I’m eating meat” thing, I realized it may have been the best chicken I’ve ever had. They are pretty active birds, but they eat a lot of coconut, high in saturated fat, and as a result the meat was incredibly moist and tender. And Le’o and Lupe were so happy that I enjoyed it, they want to kill a chicken every month or two to share with me. I just feel so lucky to have such kind neighbors, so willing to feed me and make me happy here.

In fact, just this week, my village has brought me the following foods to make sure I’m staying well fed and getting “sino lelei” (sino means both “body” and “fat”…obvi): octopus boiled in coconut milk, raw sea urchin, a fish head, and, my favorite, ota ika- raw fish “cooked” with lime juice in coconut milk. So, in conclusion, as added incentive for all of you to trek on out to the South Pacific, I can safely promise you many culinary experiences, including the best “free-range” chicken you’ve probably ever tasted!

For the past several weeks at school lessons have been concluding an hour early so that the kids could run around and “exercise” for the duration of the school day. Early last week I discovered there was an aim to this: practice and preparation for Sports Day. Sports day, in essence, is a glorified Field Day (everyone had that at school, right?) when for a whole day the students participate in mostly running events while their families come to watch. I discovered the particulars when I was asked last Tuesday to coach the Red Team, so for three days I lead half the school in warm up runs, stretching, jumping jacks (hilarious to watch 5 year olds try to do), tuck jumps, and anything and everything I could think of from my 18 years of playing sports. Adorbs.

There is a big emphasis in Tonga on speed, and the fastest kids are looked up to by everyone, but not so much on endurance. I found out it’s perfectly acceptable, mid race, to announce “Hela ia!” (“I’m tired!”) and sit down…typical. On Wednesday after school the class 5 and 6 boys had to stay late and, using a lawn mower, they helped Le’o create a circular track with five lanes around the entire school field and a shorter straight away through the center. It looked amazing when they were finished, and it actually worked really well!

Sports Day itself was on Friday, and I got up at sunrise (6am) to make some coconut milk and subsequently some curry for lunch to eat with my neighbors and who ever else wandered by. Every family comes to watch their kids compete, and everyone brings an inordinate amount of food to picnic around the school grounds after the big races have been run.

Each class competed against itself (red team vs. blue team- I was for team red and wore the t-shirt to prove it) with a boys race and a girls race- they ran short sprints and long(er) relays and there was even a sack race and mini obstacle course. Classes one and two were particularly adorable, especially in the sack race. Lots of cheering and trash talking took place in the early hours of competition, but as the day wore on, and the sun grew hotter, the two teams eventually melded into one under the shade of the giant tree in the school yard. I was the official "card hander outer", which meant that I stood at the finish line for each event and handed out the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place cards for the kids to take to the scoring table, manned by the local fifekau, our guest of honor, so the results could be recorded…although I never figured out what the purpose of that was- each team got the same prizes at the end: candy and chips.

It was a wonderful, if exhausting, day, and I loved meeting all the families and seeing everyone come together to support their kids, even if they were the slowest one out there, or won by cheating horrendously (not so much of an issue here). But don’t worry, it’s not back to school in earnest yet…we’re still going to continue breaking 45 minutes early every day so the fast kids can practice for the island-wide sports day at the end of this month. All the school on Lifuka and Foa (the next island) have “try-outs” and their best athletes will compete at Ha’apai High School in Pangai on March 28th…I’ll keep you all posted on how Koulo fares!

This week my school had a konserti, a fundraising “concert” of sorts to raise money for the school. This money will go towards paying for the power bills from last year, general maintenance and supplies for the classrooms, and, excitingly, hopefully paying the bills on my house from before I moved in (the power company has definitely come to shut off my power a few times already because of bills that have remained unpaid for almost a year…oh Tonga), installing a bathroom door in my house, and possibly even a tap inside so I don’t have to walk out to the water tank with a bucket every time I want to bathe or do dishes…these things may not happen, but we can hope! Anyways, because I may benefit from some of the money raised and because the village has a Peace Corps I was solicited to tau’olunga (traditional Tongan dance) in front of the whole village at the konserti.

Now, let’s take a little trip down memory lane at Alicia’s dancing career…Middle School/ St. Joe’s dances (throwback reference!): Alicia stands in the corner of the wall with friends and watches teenagers dance to such great hits as Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” and Will Smith classics. She makes no attempt to embarrass herself by actually joining the dancing. High School: with her self-confidence slightly improved, Alicia allows herself to be dragged onto the “dance floor” (read, cafeteria) by friends on the condition the Miss Lindsay Foley, aka “security blanket” not leave her side and teach her how to move slightly in time to the music. College: it is only after a fair amount of illicit substances that Alicia dances at college, but when she does it is usually quite enthusiastically…”what’s that you say? Time to dance? Give me another beer and a hit of that joint…” you get the picture. Cohen Bar Mitzvah’s: Alicia needs no inducements to be persuaded to dance, but I think the general congenial Jewish vibe and open bar had something to do with that. Also, the inspiration Miss Cohen played a large role in my dancing over the last several years.

Still, to the point that the previous paragraph tried to illustrate: I do not dance. And when I do, it is by no means gracefully. So, as you can imagine, I was less than thrilled about performing for the whole village, but, I tried, gamely, to suck it up and have some fun. Lupe, my neighbor, worked with me all week to teach me the dance, and was a bit discouraged at how difficult teaching me proved to be. What was the most difficult was learning the basics of Tongan dance: standing with your legs bent and feet at a 45* angle, rotating your hands, but not your arms, while keeping your fingers together and pulsing your palms (I look nowhere near as graceful as Tongan women) and the quick head nod to the side know as a tiki.

But, after a week of dance practice every evening I finally got it…almost. My school is comprised of kids from the villages of Koulo and Holopeka, and consequently there were two konsertis- one in Koulo on Thursday night, and one in Holopeka on Friday evening. I had planned to dance only on Friday, mostly because I still did not know the 3rd verse to the song on Thursday, but as the time drew near the other teachers and parents insisted that I dance in Koulo as well as in Holopeka…oh dear. Lupe made me a costume by gluing sand in flower patterns onto a piece of cloth, and we carried that along with a giant jug of coconut oil into the concert that night.

About halfway through we went out back to get me ready with a half a dozen women, and behind the hall in the middle of a field I had to strip down to my underwear while women lathered me in oil and pinned the costume on. Sand, by the by, is very heavy! The oil serves several purposes: to make you look beautiful and attractive, to perfume you in such a way that the scent takes days to wear off, and in my case gives you quite a headache, and thirdly, to allow money to stick to you during the dance. Whenever someone performs in Tonga, people come up and stick money on them or down their clothes as a means of thanking them- hence dances are good fundraisers. With the tau’olunga it’s even more so. Also, the general consensus is that if the money does not stick to a woman dancing, it’s because she’s not a virgin, and therefore all unspeakable sorts of insulting things, so it’s important to really lather on that oil!

The dance in Koulo went well, despite my not knowing the 3rd verse at all, and in Holopeka it went fine (I managed to learn the whole song by then!). I was very nervous, and definitely messed up several times, mostly when I’d lose a step or two because people were sticking money on my, but all in all I think it was a good experience and an honor that I was asked to learn and participate in the Tongan culture. Although, as Robin noted, being lathered in oil and dancing a la “Golden Banana” (ok, only Becca and Marianne are going to get that reference…oh Rt. 1) wasn’t exactly what I had in mind in terms of cultural exchange. But, I’m glad I did it, and that when I need to dance again, I’ll already have a routine I know to fall back on!

Hello all- I haven’t been able to post for quite some time in between being surprisingly busy at school and in Koulo and the internet being, well, let’s just say less than reliable, but I am doing really well and am loving my site and school!

I am living on the school compound next to the class 6 teacher, Le’o, and his family, which consists of his wife, Lupe, and his two children- Fotu, who is 4, and Tupou, who is 1. Both of them are beyond adorable, and I love them so much, especially Tupou, despite the fact that she often wanders into my house and destroys everything. She’s just learning to talk and can say “bye bye” now and wave. Even though she’s just 1 she’s really smart for her age and understands a lot of Tongan. She’s also a very advanced walker/runner, which always makes it a lot more fun! Lupe and Le’o are wonderful neighbors, and I love living next to them. I eat dinner with them most days, and Lupe lets me help her cook and teaches me how to make Tongan food! I, in turn, am teaching her how to bake and cook “American” food, and we’ve churned out a lot of banana bread in a very short time!

There are 4 teachers at my school: one for class 1 and 2, Manusiu, one for class 3 and 4, Lesile, one for class 5, Viliami, and one for class 6, Le’o. All of them speak at least a little English, and most of them speak very well, so that’s a really great plus and makes communication and forming relationships a lot easier! My school has about 80 or so kids, and they are wonderful- by far the best part about Tonga. I am working mostly with classes 3-6 teaching English grammar and working on reading and oral skills, which is definitely a challenge, but really fun and rewarding.

So that’s basically my day: I got to school, teach two classes in the morning, one before recess and one after, and teach one more after lunch, for about an hour and a half each. Le’o and I have also started work on constructing a community garden at the school! Each student brought in 50 cents and we’ve hired a plow to come and plow up the far section of the school field. After we’re going to build a fence and in April (the best time for planting) we’re going to use the seeds I brought with me and buy some seedling from the Ministry of Agriculture if we can raise enough money. But if anyone is so inclined to send a package, seeds of any sort would be greatly appreciated! Since there are no vegetables in Ha’apai for most of the year, this project is going to be awesome and a great way for the kids to learn about farming and, hopefully, health and nutrition! I am also hoping to organize all the donated books at this school into a library in an abandoned classroom on the school grounds, so we’ll see how that project progresses.

I’ve been pretty busy getting settled at work and in my house and getting to know the community, but I am loving it so far and am really happy. This situation is just so much better than my previous one, and I think I’m going to have a great 2 years here! Mui mui (my dog) who is here in Koulo with me says hello too! He is loving his new home as well, is getting super fat (along with me!) because my neighbors and the kids at school feed him all the time (again, true for me as well), and is now bff with Fotu’s dog, Jumbo, who lives next door.

I miss you all so much, and I will try and post again soon!

Well, it’s been sort of a crazy week, but definitely a good one. As my previous posts indicate, things were not going so hot at good old Taufa’ahau. Viliami called me on Sunday and told me that he was not able to come down, but the Poli would be coming to Ha’apai that week (she was the LCTF who stayed with me last time while I was waiting for a house). She arrived on Tuesday, and that’s when the whirlwind began.

I went to school as usual to try and observe some English classes and after school went home. Brett called me to tell me I’d left something in the PC office, and mentioned that Phil was in Koulo and that Poli was there with him. Phil works for the Ministry of Education with all the schools in Ha’apai training teachers, so he knows most of the GPS school, which is an awesome resource. Anyways, I called Phil and asked if it was true that Poli was there and generally what was going on and he told me him and Poli were meeting with the teachers in Koulo and that Poli said to pack my things. I was in complete shock- we hadn’t even met or talked with my principal and it was already 4 in the afternoon. Within 10 minutes, Phil, Poli, Kate, and Brett were at my house in the bed of a huge bush truck along with 3 Tongans from Koulo.

Poli went next door to talk to my principal, and ended up putting him on the phone with Viliami. Meanwhile, everyone came inside and literally tore through my house, packing things in whatever boxes and bags we could find, and bringing them out to the truck. We were out of the house in under an hour- it was absolute craziness. Seluini, my old principal, was very understanding about the whole thing, and seemed to understand that the school and community had problems that weren’t going to be fixed.

We brought all my stuff to Kate and Brett’s house, and I crashed there until Thursday morning, which was a nice destresser (totally not a word). In the meantime, up in Koulo, the school and PTA frantically almost finished my house in essentially a day, and told Poli that they were so excited to be getting a Peace Corps.

I moved up to Koulo on Thursday morning, and everything went really well! The house is almost done, but all the big things are there, and it’s nice and clean. It’s right on the school campus and right next to the airport…literally, the runway is in my backyard, and I really love the location. There are only 1 or 2 planes a day, so the noise isn’t really a problem, and I like being on the school grounds. All the kids were obviously very curious, and kept coming around the house and peaking in through the windows as we moved everything in, but they are adorbs, obvi, and I’m so excited to start working with them. We had a meeting that afternoon under an awesomely huge tree in the school yard with the teachers and the PTA and ironed out what my job there is, and all those fun details. It was wonderful though, and everyone seemed really happy that I was there. The one concern they had was about me acting like a pelangi, and what if I had a moa (boyfriend) and he was coming around the house and even sleeping there (gasp!). I’m definitely going to have to work on the whole ‘boys and girls can be friends and not have sex’ concept, because I’m definitely not going to turn away other volunteers if/when they come visit- I need all the friends I can get! But this definitely means I’ll have to find some creative solutions from when Thom and Eric (yes, I’m trying to peer pressure you through my blog to come visit me before you go back to the US) come. I’m not worried though, everything will work out. After the meeting, some of the parents brought food over to my house, and it was delicious. I told them that I don’t eat meat, and while this sent up the usual collective gasp, one of my neighbors told me they were happy, because fish is not expensive- they just go fishing! This gets them out of buying the obligatory guest foods like kapa pulu (canned corn beef) and sipi (mutton flaps) which are quite pricy.

The next day, I started to unpack and try to organize the house. The kids came to school again, but they told me they were vainga pē (just playing) today…oh Fridays in Tongan schools. My principal came over with a schedule for me (planning in advance!?!) and it looks great- I’ll be teaching 3 classes each day (classes 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 are taught together since there are only 4 teachers), 2 in the morning and 1 after lunch, and possibly picking up some night classes with class 6 as well as forms 5 and 6 at the high school to prepare for their exams at the end of the year. I also found out that most of the things in my house had been bough on credit (the carpeti, connecting the electricity, the toilet) and there are still more things that need to be installed (a bathroom door, an indoor water tap, a fence) so the PTA is have a fundraiser next Friday called a conserti. To my surprise, I was told that I would ta’olunga (a traditional Tongan dance) in front of the whole town at this fundraiser to raise money for my house (they lather you in oil and people come up while you are dancing and stick money on you)…I will literally be dancing for the money to finish my house…haha, only in Tonga.

We then went to the school room, and while the kids played outside the teachers and the PC staff and I had ourselves a Tonga welcome feast- ifo ‘aupito! My neighbors made all the food, and the teachers made Tongan welcome and thank you speeches, and it was just such a warm welcome. While on this subject, my neighbors are amazing! The couple that lives next door to me are so kind- the husband is a teacher at the school and they have two small kids- a boy who is 4 and a little girl who is 1- they are both adorable. The other family lives kind of behind them and seem super nice as well. Not sure how many kids/ relatives live in the house, but everyone has been so nice and welcoming.

My neighbors showed me around the runway and airport last night, and we saw a bunch of plants that they pulled up from the bush and are going to plant around my house to make a yard. They are also redesigning the airport grounds, as some of those flower bushes are coming to my house as well! We then just sat outside for a few hours, talking and drinking coffee and playing with the kids and the dogs. It’s such a different feel in Koulo vs. Panagi, even though the distance isn’t that great. There’s just much more of a small community feel, and I’m loving it so far!

I feel so lucky- the community has been wonderful so far: really open and welcoming, and I think excited that I’m there. It’s such a 180 from how I was feeling a week ago today, and I really do think everything is going to be great in Koulo. This was the site I was initially supposed to be at, but then was pulled last minute because the house was not finished and there were some problems with the PTA and principal and power politics. But, there is a new principal now, and it seems like the PTA and school really came together and figured out a way to work with one another to get things done.

Thank you so much to all of you who sent messages and emails and comments of support. It’s so wonderful to know that I’m not alone, ever, and I appreciate it more than I can tell you. I am so happy with the changes that have been made, and I’m excited to start school on Monday.

Also, exciting news: I have a permanent address, so send out those letters you’ve been holding onto!:

Alicia Green, PCV

General Post Office

Pangai

Ha’apai

Kingdom of Tonga

South Pacific

The old address to the PC office in Nuku’alofa will still work as well, and might be a better address for packages to be sent to (hint hint…)

Alicia Green, PCV

Peace Corps

PO Box 147

Nuku’alofa

Kingdom of Tonga

South Pacific

I love you all so much, and I’m so happy with how everything is working out. I will be sure to let you know how my public embarrassment (ie dancing in front of the community) goes, and how everything turns out!

Well, it’s the day before the Swearing-In ceremony, and three days before we’re supposed to go to our sites, and I just got some pretty frustrating/stressful/disturbing news. I’ve been pestering Toma, (the Safety and Security officer) who has done site visits to ensure that our homes are up to PC standards, for the past few weeks after hearing a rumor that my house was not finished, but he seemed confident it would be done in time. Because of everything that happened last year, PC mandated that the town could not use the house the other volunteer lived in, which is actually in the next town, Holopeka, on a family compound, and the school said they would build a new house right next to the school (and airport). However, the house is not finished, and Viliami just pulled the plug so to speak on Koulo. Apparently there has been fighting between the principle and the PTA over who would finish the house and how much they would spend, and as a result, it’s not ready. Also, Viliami told me the principle has not been getting back to him for a few weeks, and between their lack of communication, inability to finish the house, and the past history with this village he does not want another volunteer to ever be in that village. Awesome. Viliami told me he’s looking at some sites that were developed but not selected this time around, and hopes to have a new site for me tomorrow. I’m pretty stressed out and a little frustrated that there have been problems for so long that are just being dealt with now, but am trying to remain flexible and open. This week has been crazy enough, but it looks like it’s just going to get a bit more interesting.

I'm officially in Tonga on the main island of Tongatapu, in the capital city of Nuku'alofa. We landed at 8:00am this morning, Thursday, after a 2 hour layover in Samoa. When we landed at theTongan airport all of the Peace Corps staff and some of the volunteers were there to greet us with flower and leaf necklaces, which was really sweet, and everyone made us feel so welcome. We had mini orientation, lunch at the hostel-like place where we are all staying(there are 24 of us in our training group), rested for an hour, and then went to a welcome kava ceremony (google it, seriously) and BBQ atthe house of the Country Director. We then walked back along the ocean to the main drag of downtown, and now I'm at the Peace Corps office writing this.

I am officially here, safe and sound, albeit a bitjet-lagged and confused at the loss of Wednesday. Tonga is absolutelybeautiful and looks exactly like a tropical island should- clear bluewater, palm trees, and everyone seems so nice and friendly! Eventhough all I can say right now is "malo e lelei" (hello) people are really welcoming us to the island. Even airport security was so happy to see the 24 of us, despite us backingup customs and their whole airport (which is the smallest international airport I've ever seen). We're in Nuku'alofa for 4 moredays until we take our 30 hour ferry ride out to our homestays inVava'u for 6 weeks, so I will update soon.

I'm in the Volunteer lounge on our last night in Nuku'alofa before we head out to Vava'u and our homestays for the next 6 weeks. Since the scary boat is missing an engine and not running this week we're flyingout tomorrow morning (yay!) around 7am and starting our homestays a bit early.

I am definitely a bit nervous for homestay given mycomplete lack of Tongan language skills. But I'm excited to learn and,with any luck, I'll be conversational at the end of 6 weeks. I'm also really excited to learn about how basic household tasks are carried out in a Tongan village- everything from washing clothes, to bucket showers, to making coconut cream, and I really hope my host family will be able to teach me all of this. Plus, a little basket weaving orcoconut husking would come in handy too.

Saturday we had water safety training, directly after learning about the pages and pages of deadly and dangerous water creatures thatpopulate the south Pacific- everything from sharks to stonefish...awesome. Regardless, it was really fun- we went down to the naval base and a few Tongan navy personel conducted the training, which was honestly a glorified swim class. We had to jump of a ship, swim around a lot, tow people (they neveractually taught us how to do this properly...), tread water, and boarda boat from the water. The ocean was beautiful- warm and turquoise-but very very salty. Some people definitely could not swim, including Carole, a 66 year old volunteer, but she got her lifevest and was a great sport! Lots of bonding and team support between all of us trainees, so that was a definite plus as well.

Yesterday (Sunday) was probably one of the best days. We had to meetup and go to church in the morning, and I wasn't too excited about that, obvi. I went with 3 other volunteers to the Catholic church, partially so Robin would be happy (kidding!), but mostly because I wanted to see if it was any different from a Catholic mass back home. Itwasn't at all- only difference was that they spoke in Tongan. Also, the choir was amazingly beautiful. Singing is a huge part of Tongan culture, and this local church sounded incredible- I can't even describe it. Then it was time for the other two staples of Sunday-food and naps! (Seriously, that's all people do on Sunday: go to church, eat a huge feast, and nap- it's wonderful) We went over to the Country Director's house located right on the ocean and had a very boring hour of training and then pig roast feast! Seriously, roasted pig backed in an underground oven that's dug into a hill. Didn't have any of the pig, but there were at least 5 different fish dishes, all of which we delicious (ifo), and tons of fresh mango, papaya, banana, watermelon, and coconut. The CD, Jeffery, opened up his house and his photo albums for us, and a handful of us spent a few hours on his porch overlooking tropical paradise.

The next time I write, I'll be in Vava'u: reputedly the friendliest of the "friendly islands" and the hottest!