Battle of the Landing Points, Part 1: Captain Cook

The tourist attractions of Tongatapu are fairly limited, but one thing there are plenty of, is “landing points.” There are three marked on this island, celebrating the arrival of various Europeans. I’ve been to them all, and now I solve the mystery of just who has the best landing point on Tongatapu. Then I can devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe: women!

I skipped another visit to the Captain Cook landing point, my first was more then enough. Captain Cook is one of the greatest navigators, ever; the more I read about him, the more respect I have for his achievements. From Alaska to Siberia to Australia, this eighteenth century British navigator left his mark, and explored more of the earth’s surface then anyone else in history. All that, and the big mess in Never-Never Land, to boot! His legacy is controversial, paving the way for colonialism, (which is a sensitive topic in the South Pacific, though not nearly as sensitive as decolonization). But all in all he was a fairly compassionate guy considering what he dealt with in many of his “first contact” situations. After ten of his sailors were killed, cooked, and eaten by Maoris, Cook wrote, “Notwithstanding they are cannibals, they ware naturally of a good disposition.” His time was cut short when he was killed in Hawaii, but in his ten years of exploration he filled in all the blank spots on the Pacific map. His legacy is everywhere in the Pacific; it was Cook who gave Tonga the nickname, “the friendly islands,” and wow Tonga went to town with that. Friendly Islands Bookstore, Friendly Islands Kayaking Adventures, The Friendly Islander Hotel, Friends Café…


In 1777, Cook touched down in Eastern Tongatapu, as back then the capital of the island was in that area (later moved to its present location when having a deep water harbour became important). Supposedly, there was a banyan tree there, and the story goes that he told a local boy to fetch someone important, and then took a nap under the tree while he waited. Or he might have taken a nap, then made his way to the capital to find someone important. There are plenty of variations to the story, but the tree and the nap make an appearance in each, which makes sense because the nap is a staple of Tongan life. It’s a stop on every “sights of the island” tour, but once you arrive…there is no tree, and in its place is a non-attraction-that- tries-to-be-an-attraction, a plaque. He couldn’t have picked a nicer place to land, though, one of the most beautiful coves in Tonga’s massive lagoon.

I stopped here many months ago on my way to Lapaha and the step tombs, and shared my lunch with a local who, I think, offered to set me up with one of his many girlfriends in return.

The plaque reads: Here stood formerly the great banyan Malumalu-o-Fulilangi, under the branches of which the celebrated navigator came ashore on his way to visit Pau, the Tui Tonga on the occasion of the Inasi in the year 1777.

Soon part 2, Christianity...

Now young man Daniel had troubles of his own, he had a gray cat that just wouldn't leave his home!

Just minutes ago, a member of my animal pack was taken away. I thought it only fitting to write something quick about the lone cat in a sea of dogs. When I moved into this apartment, it came with an outdoor cat that would not stop trying to get in; a cat who spent my first night here meowing until it went hoarse. Later I heard the whole story - that the cat had belonged to the previous owner, it was an indoor cat, and had gotten out and run away when the owner was in the process of moving. Now the owner was in New Zealand, and the cat had returned. Rumors circulated that friends of the owner were coming to get the cat, but they never showed.

I hardened my heart, having no intention whatsoever to taken in an animal and then worry about it while I was traveling around Tonga and the Pacific. Thus "Cat," the only name I allowed it, remained an outdoor animal was a fairly sad life. Cat displayed no survival instincts whatsoever, despite being surrounded by birds, chickens, geckos, and even lagoon fish that swim right at the surface. the puppies (seven of them) were initially scared and surrendered their food, until the realized the worse Cat would ever do was hiss while they took food from it. And they were quick to figure out how to get up to any high locale where the cat took its food.

That was in March. Fast-forward eight months. Cat is skinny, but apparently now skilled enough to catch slow and defenseless geckos. And today, the friends of the owner arrived to discuss something else with the landlord. They saw Cat, who I know now had been an indoor Persian long hair cat from New Zealand, the product of generations of breeding that had left it with no knowledge or skill about how to stop a month old puppy from taking its sheep ribs. Cat's Tongan adventure has ended, he/she is on to a better life, where it can be fat and happy. The gecko population can thrive once again.

Cat, able to enjoy a sunny nap with a puppy that will become its nemesis when the supper leftovers are tossed out.

Arachnophobia, anyone?

Whenever I see one of these very ominous spiders, my reaction is try not to look anxious, keep eye contact, toss him my wallet, and report the incident after I'm safe. I never think "hey, photo op." But an American in Tonga is braver then I, and this photo comes from her blog (thanks). If you don't have a healthy fear of spiders, you probably just haven't met the right one yet.

Faka-tonga

I can't believe I've been here ten months already. The school year especially has flown by. When I was a kid, a year of high school seemed to last two years at least. I suspect it's partly because I don't have to write the final exams anymore, just sit there and watch my students sweat.

With the rush of end-of-year review classes and exam prep, I haven't done much traveling. I have heard about boulders the size of two-story houses on the west coast, thrown there thousands of years ago by a massive tidal wave and now sprouting underbrush and palm trees. I plan to check it out in a week or two, when school officially ends.

In the meantime, I thought I'd write down some random observations about Tonga. To explain the title, faka-tonga is the "Tongan way." For example when something is schedule to start at 8pm but actually gets going around 9:30pm, people explain the delay by saying, "faka-tonga." There's also faka-palangi, which is the "European way" (including any western nation). Unfortunately there's no faka-canada, probably because there are about only (in my estimation) three Canadians in all of Tonga, and 2 Tongans in all of Canada. But there is faka-samoa, which means going shirtless (I guess they do that in Samoa), something frowned upon (to the point that it is against the law) in Tonga. And there is faka-suva (Suva being the capital of Fiji), which refers to living as husband and wife without being married. I chalk that one up to the old friendly rivalry between everyone in the Pacific and Fiji.

I've found that the nickname "Friendly Islands" is well earned (though Captain Cook was unaware of the locals' plot to kill him, when he thought it up). Tongans rival Canadians in politeness and hospitality. In fact, possibly more so, thanks to a cultural tendency to "save face" and avoid embarrassment at all costs. In a possibly not so fictional example, I could mispronounce a student's name for a whole year without knowing it, before realizing my mistake and being told the student didn't want to embarrass me by correcting me. This means that embarrassing a Tongan is an equal faux-pas, and you must take care in how you react to any mistake (receiving the wrong amount of change, for example).

Fish makes up a surprisingly small percentage of Tongan cuisine (unlike Fijian dishes). Local products have been replaced by exports from overseas (mainly New Zealand). The diet is high in corned beef, mutton (called sipi in Tongan, which I purposefully mispronounce as "sheepy"), and processed foods like those packets of Mr. Noodles we ate dry as kids. There is one local dish that's a spicy raw fish salad which is fantastic. Traditionally, especially on Sundays, food is cooked for hours in underground ovens (umu) while Tongans attend Church. They return home to massive family feasts and then nap for hours, a tradition I have embraced whole heartedly. It is illegal to do business on a Sunday, and any kind of physical work (or even music) should be kept for a minimum. It is certainly the quietest day of the week, and on Sunday afternoons streets are typically devoid of cars. I sometimes bike downtown, which resembles an old west ghost town (or a post apocalyptic zombie town at twilight).

Fruit has seasons in countries like Tonga, apparently, which is no fun at all. I miss getting fresh fruit from Florida when you can't get it from Mexico, with year-round greenhouses to fill in the gaps. I've now gone through the seasons of avocado, papaya, mandarin oranges, and have recently entered mango season, eagerly anticipating the return of avocados. Bananas and coconuts, though, seem to grow year-round.

As for wildlife, Tonga has doesn't have much of unique interest. The only local mammal is a kind of fruit bat. But not those tiny mouse-sized ones in the night cave at the Toronto Zoo. These fruit bats are HUGE, freaky huge. Bruce Wayne wouldn't need one of these to crash through his window to decide they'd strike fear into the hearts of criminals. Around nightfall When I bike to school to teach night study classes, these bats wake and fill the sky, an incredible sight. Unfortunately on my camera they're just undefined black blobs, and I've decided a picture doesn't do the sight justice. The only reptile (or whatever it is) is the gecko, whose behaviour is a constant source of entertainment. Fortunately none of those snakes that plague Australia. And of course, there are rats and cockroaches. My house kills cockroaches, which has me vaguely concerned, since I thought they were supposed to outlive all humans following a nuclear apocalypse. A cockroach that infiltrates my walls will be found dead on the floor in the morning, making me wonder if there's asbestos or lead paint or rat poison or something equally alarming. Oh, there are also black and yellow spiders the size of your palm that make my heart stop, but are deemed "completely harmless" by locals. I was once sitting on my couch when one skittered past, coming from the direction of the bathroom. I now take a good look behind the toilet before I...you know.

The weather is, ya ya, fantastic. It's what I expected when I imagined a Pacific island, it seems to cycle from hot and sunny, to warm and sunny, to cool and sunny, rinse with a cyclone and repeat. There's underwater volcano activity, and I've sat through about three earthquakes as a result. They were all the kind where you realize its an earthquake after about ten seconds, but its not shaky enough to have you run for a door frame. Because of the way the closest techtonic plate is moving (it's pulling away from Tonga instead of pushing towards, or something like that), tidal waves are not the typical result. This is especially lucky for me, because I heard that you're supposed to "seek higher ground" in the event of a tidal wave. This island is completely flat, and has about two buildings that are higher then one story, so that's not really an option. My backup solution is to tie a rope from my waist to a palm tree, and hold my breath.


In less then sixty days, my family will be coming to visit (for a week, before we go to New Zealand together). I've had to stop telling locals that my "family" is coming, and instead say, "my parents and sister," as they always assumed that by family I mean my wife and kids, because here in Tonga, how could I be in my late twenties and not have at least two kids by now!? Faka-tonga!

Y'arr! Some Nautical History o' Tonga

Avast ye! If ye be wantin' to go to Tonga an ye don't be wantin' to end up in Davy Jones' Locker, then ye best be learnin' some Tongan history. And today bein International Talk Like A Pirate Day, what better time me thinks to teach it.

Tonga earned her wee spot in the history o' mutineers by chance. Tho' the tale would be told again an' again, few would know at whose isles, arrrrrr, the famous events be takin' place. I speak o' course o' Captain William Bligh and the mutiny aboard the HMS Bounty!

After but five short months in the pleasure lands o' Tahiti, cap't Bligh was itchin ta set sail. Deserting crew were recaptured, the blasted bucaneers! They were but flogged, instead a gettin thier due an' dancin the knotted jig. On the'r way to the West Indies, the crew chose to mutiny, curse their hides. Bligh an' eighteen loyal men t'were set adrift in an open boat wit but a wee bit o' supplies, never deliverin' a lash of the cat o' nine tails to their treacherous mates.

Luckily for them, t'was In the Tongan Ha'apai group, arrrrr, off the coast o fiery Tofua, where the treacherous sea dogs did the deed. "Why, shiver me timbers," Bligh said, "These here lands t'were named the 'Friendly Isles' by none other than me matey Captain Cook not 12 years past!" Bligh landed at Tofua to meet them friendly landlubbers. He would later be namin' the landing point "Murderers' Cove," and be thankful he lost none more than Quartermaster Norton to t' savages. Havin' not time to use the head, much less load rations, an' havin entirely missed the freshwater lake in Tofua's volcanic boosom, Bligh and his men were forced ta cast off.

Thanks be to the Powers, the brave souls would survive their 47-moon voyage without a visit to Fiddlers Green. An in tha year 1791 the HMS Pandora would be visitin' Tonga, searching for them treacherous Bounty mutineers. By then they had settled on Pitcairn Island. After a brief stop to see their lasses in Tahiti, of course, yo-ho.

214 Days and Nights

Well, I've been here seven months, which makes Tonga the country outside of Canada I've lived the longest in (over Afghanistan by a month). So, I think its time for a little reflection on life in Tonga vs life in Canada.

Things I miss about Canada:

Real coffee. If you offer me coffee, I don't want to see you reaching for a jar of crystals on the shelf. That isn't coffee, that's astronaut food. You know that person who says, "I can't believe they opened another Tim Hortons in [city/town/across the street from a Tim Hortons]."? Send that person to Tonga so I can smack him.

Paved roads. Wow I took that for granted, even the roads at KAF were better than here. I complained about construction bumps on the Queensway, well try every excursion from point A to point B as an off-roading adventure (though on a bike, which helps). And you had better hope it didn't rain the night before, because then you can add river crossings to your trip.

Leash laws. The SPCA. Or, maybe any law or any organization that has something to do with controlling animals? That would be nice. The only canine control here is hungry Tongans. Which is not a joke, it's Pacific culture reality.

A public library. Even Chapters (with a Starbucks that serves real coffee, of course). Living in a country that burned down their only bookstore, you start to realize how much you took your access to literature for granted.


Things I don't miss about Canada:

Anonymity. It's fun being a rock star every day, and the only "European" in a school of over 1000 people, and having people I've never met yell out, "malo Taniela" when I bike by. I bet it'll be boring being just a regular guy again back in Canada.

Long live the...King?

The coronation celebration became two-fold this week, when the Prince undertook a massive and unplanned step towards democracy. He surrendered much of his absolute power, including his role in day-to-day government affairs, to the Prime Minister.

Tonga is unique because it is the only Pacific monarchy that survived colonization. When the British arrived, they found Tonga to already be heavily Christian, and with a constitution to boot (thanks to missionary Shirley Baker, a key figure in Tongan history). The would-be colonizers chose to leave the friendly King in place, and only make the island a protectorate in the British Empire. Thus Tonga became the only country in the Pacific never to have been formally colonized (which I think explains why, unlike the islands of Samoa and Fiji, Tonga has no McDonald's downtown).

As democracy eventually took root in American and British pacific colonies that gained independence, Tonga remained an absolute monarchy throughout her history. In recent times, criticism of the monarchy has been on the rise (the royal villa is one of the largest houses I've ever seen but I can't get a decent picture because the driveway is miles long, yet something like 40% of Tongans live below the poverty line). Parliament, where the King appointed the majority of the MPs and chose the ministers, was just a rubber stamp for his decisions. When King Tupou IV died 11 Sep 2006, it looked very much like the Crown Prince had no real plans to move Tonga towards democracy. When it looked like the parliament would adjourn for the year without any steps towards democracy, riots broke out in November 2006 with government offices and assets of the King initially targeted. I say initially, because more than 60% of the downtown area was destroyed, including Tonga's only theater and bookstore, much to my chagrin.

As a result, the Prince's coronation was delayed all the way until now. A "state of emergency" of declared, giving the Prince powers like the ability to randomly close streets for no apparent reason when I'm biking downtown. Also, as many as six New Zealand police officers swarmed the country to help keep the peace.

So, everyone have been looking towards Friday's coronation celebration with a bit of trepidation as to what might happen. The Prince earlier agreed to sell off his controlling stake in Tongan assets including the power company, a telecommunications company, and even the brewery. But it still came as a pretty big shock when the Prince announced earlier this week, days before his coronation, that he would immediately relinquish almost all his political power to the Prime Minister.

The majority of the seats in Parliament will be decided by vote in 2010's election. The King will still attend Parliament, but won't have a say in the government's affairs. Essentially, he chose to go the British route instead of the French route (off with his head!). Tonga's pro-democracy leader was one of the first to respond to the announcement. "I think his majesty has made history," he said. "Monarchies in Europe always found it difficult to relinquish their power but in our case our monarchy did something which was different. He was willing to surrender his power to the people and remain only as a ceremonial monarchy from now on." Plus, he got over $30 million selling off his assets. Not too shabby for a week's work, I say.

So, the monarchists are happy, the pro-democracy people are happy, the hundreds of palangi amassed in the streets who will still get to see a coronation are happy. And what better way to jump start the celebration then to give the gift of fire to thousands of Tongan children! Yesterday was the start of the three-day coronation festivities, and last night Tonga's schools were given the task of lighting palm-front torches around the islands of Tonga. Not the best idea to give ten foot flaming torches to young children? Well it can't be much better then arming them with machetes, which we do every Wednesday to tackle to dense brush around the school.

Loading up our torches. Not only were the kids told to each carry a torch to the beach, this truck made four trips. And that was just our school!

Flares were launched from Tongan Defense Force ships around the island telling us when to light the torches.


Which was right about...now. Thank you Prometheus!


Just like Narnia, Tonga does have a street lamp. But in this picture, those points of light are torches on part of the stretch of island 'Api Fo'ou was responsible for.

Band Together

Backing up my claim of Tonga's love of marching bands, I stumbled across this excerpt from an article about the coronation preparations.
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The New Zealand Army’s director of Music, Captain Leanne Smith, says rehearsals for the coronation have been taking place with other defence force bands.

“We’re actually forming a massed band of all the visiting bands here. Ther’s the Tonga Defence Service Band plus the Royal Australian Navy Band. The US Marine Band from Hawaii and ourselves from New Zealand. It is going to be fantastic. We have started rehearsals already and its going to sound really mighty.”

Captain Smith says they’ll play well known marches, and new works that have been composed specially for the coronation of King George Tupou the fifth.
(http://www.rnzi.com/pages/news.php?op=read&id=41102)
-----
this time, I'll get some pictures.

Block Party

I should probably get a move on all my Ha'apai entries. I'm betting there's going to be a lot of other things to write about, with all the coronation stuff going on. One village recently killed about a thousand pigs, but it was the day I came back from Ha'apai so I wasn't there to take a picture. An Aussie friend told me all the pigs were roasted and lined up with their hearts removed and placed on their chests (yum). The King nodded in approval. Then everyone in Tonga had free bacon at breakfast for a week.

Last night I went to a "Block Party" which was as cool as Dave Chappelle made me think it would be. It was a celebration of the various cultures represented in Tonga, with the hopes that we'd all come together to recognize the new King. I got downtown and started to lock up my bike to a fence, when a Tongan told me the parade had passed this area. That was all the interaction we needed to become friends. He serves in the Tongan Defense Force, so we talked about that and my Dad being in the Air Force (he was confused that my Dad was in the Canadian Air Force, but wasn't an American, a concept that I battle on some level every time I mention Canada). He told me where the parade was going (though there's one street downtown, so I would have figured it out), talked me into leaving my bike at Police HQ, and then said something like, "I'm just waiting for my wife, then I'll find you there." Tonga is fantastic because the Tongans are so insanely friendly like that. I just hung out with his family as if we were old friends, until I found the other teachers I was meeting.

First there was the awesome parade. Every Tongan parade is awesome, because every Tongan parade includes at least one marching band (as usual, I didn't being my camera, so use your imagination. Or go watch Drumline). Yes, it is like that movie. I didn't see it personally, but at a rugby match our school band was doing the marching playing thing, then dropped their instruments and did this choreographed dance, then picked them up and launched into a performance of Eye of the Tiger.

Then there were booths set up for the represented cultures. In Tonga, that's: China, India, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Samoa, Solomon Islands, and, I kid you not, Germany. Germans had a booth where they cooked up sausage and sauerkraut. At China's booth, they did that dance with the giant dragon that is, I think, the most frightening dance invented by humanity. Japan's booth was my favourite, because they were serving sushi (regularly available at only one restaurant in Tonga).

No Canadian booth though, probably because 50% of Tonga's Canadian population is presently overseas (the other teacher is traveling for the break). Probably for the best, since our display snow would have been freezer frost, and I don't know where we'd have found doughnuts or a decent cup of coffee.


P.S. - Here's another good article about the situation in Tonga

Message in a Bottle

While in Ha'apai, I spent a lot of my time there exploring the beaches that extended seemingly endlessly to the left and right of my "resort." Only once did I see another person on the beach (and that's counting the other guests, who spent most of their time at the expat drinking hole). On my last day in Ha’apai, the tides lined up well for a walk on the beach past a few places that had stopped me at high tide. I didn't get much further, though, before I found a message in a bottle! There were always liquor bottles on the beach, but this one was corked with a note inside. I was soon deep in thought about the likelihood of finding a treasure map, or a beautiful castaway who needed rescuing.

The cork came out easily enough (credit the Swiss Army), but getting the note out was a pain. I thought of just smashing the bottle, but I want to be part of the solution to broken glass on the beach, not the problem! I finally got it out with homemade driftwood chopsticks, though it was a little worst for wear. The note was in French, and read (as I could make out):

"Hello from the ocean, 3 July 07 from French Polynesia. My name is Paul, I am 7 years old, I was born in [not sure], and I think throwing garbage in the ocean is bad. If you agree then phone me [some massive pacific number] or even if you don't agree. Talk to you soon, Paul."

I put away my eye patch, and the hopes that the note would prove to be my "in" with the Pacific pirate community as some kind of anonymous pirate-y letter of recommendation. But still, pretty neat, I thought. Although using an empty liquor bottle thrown in the ocean as your method of explaining your anti-littering stance is kinda like using a loudspeaker to tell your neighbours you want noise control laws.

In November 2009, my last month in Tonga, I called Paul.  His Mom answered the phone and didn't speak a word of English. With my awkward French, I explained why I was asking if her now 9 year old son was home, and put her mind at ease.

Just as she began to get very very excited about the message, the credit on my phone ran out. I biked furiously to the nearest Chinese shop, bought 20 pa'anga worth of credit, and called again.

I finished my story and we exchanged e-mail addresses, though I haven't heard from them again and the e-mail I wrote down didn't work (I blame my poor recall of the French alphabet). Who would have thought that it's about $3 a minute to call French Polynesia.  Obviously, I haven't phoned again. Still, now Paul knows someone found his letter and called, even if we never had time to discuss my own stance on ocean littering.

Ha'apai - Part 2

For the week I was at Billy's Place, my life consisted basically of exploring the interior of Lifuka and Foa islands (connected by a sweet causeway, pictured). The place had free use of "mountain bikes." They were one speed granny bikes, good for the flat environment, like the one I used in Holland (the kind you had as a kid where you have to pedal backwards to stop, which was a lot of fun to remember when I suddenly needed brakes).

Biking around Lifuka was about the same as biking around Tongatapu, with one big exception - no crazy dogs. There were oodles of dogs, and I tensed with the anticipation of the chase whenever I passed one, but they were all pretty much asleep. I think maybe, because there were so many more Tongans using bikes than cars in Ha'apai, the dogs were used to the novelty.

The whole island was in general a lot more rural; not just fewer cars and more bikes, but also a lot of locals on horseback. The only place I had seen horse in Tongatapu was at the butcher shop, so this was a surprise. Score one for colonialism (or British protectoratism) because I'm sure horses would have never found there way to these islands without it.

I had heard that there was a museum in Pangai, the capital. And there are few things better in an obscure town then checking out the local museum and its random artifacts. I hear that at a museum in Fiji, for example, there is a collection of wooden forks left over from use when the first few missionaries arrived "just in time" for some great feasts.

I stopped at the Tourism Office to ask where exactly the museum was. The people looked at each other, and then handed me a key. Misunderstanding, I'm sure...maybe they thought I asked about the bathroom. I swear every time I ask for peanut butter at a roadside shop, they think I'm asking for beer, so it could happen! I asked again, and they told me the museum was down the street across from the Governor's Residence, and to lock up when I was done. "Ok...this is a new one," I thought (and think often in Tonga). I biked to the museum, unlocked the door, and found myself among a whole bunch of Ha'apai history artifacts. Of course, having grown up in a city that hires people to make sure you can't touch all the cool looking dinosaur bones at the Civilization museum, I proceeded to touch absolutely everything. The exhibits were mostly natural history stuff - shells, fish bones, informative posters. I especially enjoyed one that had a story about how "rat" pooped on "octopus" when octopus was helping him cross the ocean, explaining the passionate blood feud between these two species. There were a lot of humpback whale bones, including an inner ear. There was even a huge turtle shell on a shelf that I was considering taking down and using like a shield before a couple NZ tourists showed up and spoiled my plans.

All in all Ha'apai was pretty cool, though I explored it real fast. Next school break I'll head to Vava'u. And with any luck someday the remote Niuas (the Tongan tourism brochure reads in a contradicting way, "there are flights every week to the Niuas. At this time, the runway is closed down," making me wonder if I need skydiving lessons for the trip).

Ha'apai - Part 1

On July 5th, I took an early morning flight to the island of Lifuka in the Ha'apai group. I had been pretty excited about this trip since before I even arrived in Tonga, after reading in a National Geographic article (The Two Worlds of Tonga from Nov07) that I would be flying in a DC-3.

Unfortunately, about two months ago, they stopped flying the DC-3. Probably a blessing in disguise; on my way to the airport, the taxi driver told me about a flight from Vava'u to Tongatapu where, in the air, the door on a DC-3 just ripped off and flew into the ocean! The plane dropped off the passengers in Ha'apai (about midway on the trip), continued to Tongatapu and got a new door installed, then came back for the passengers and finished the trip. But I was still a little disappointed. These planes were huge in the 1930s, so where else in the world could I ride in one instead of looking at it in a museum? Instead, I flew in some other prop plane. Which was still slightly disconcerting - after the bags are weighed, the passengers have to step on the scale, while the attendant does some math to make sure the weight on the plane is properly distributed. What if someone decides to switch seats?

The view to the left and right was pretty spectacular - endless blue ocean, with the occasional island (there are over 160 in Tonga, including one that disappears and reappears throughout Tongan history, a story for another entry).

The flight was about forty five minutes, though it seemed more like ten. Ha'apai's airport was surprisingly spectacular, paid for by one of the usual suspects - China, Japan, Australia, or New Zealand. I waited and chatted with a local who worked at the airport's weather station while the only taxi driver made trips back and forth with passengers.

I stayed at Billy's Place, in itself nothing fantastic - a central house where Billy (surprise) lives, and four cabin/fales for the guests. It's on the beach, and is about a five minute ride ("mountain" bikes provided) from the capital town of Pangai. Other guests came and went (typically Australian, New Zealand, and German), but I settled in for a week. More to come about Pangai, the beach, and a message in a bottle...

Guess I Adjusted

I just put on the Old Navy hoodie I brought to Tonga, because it feels pretty cold today. Then, I looked at the thermometer. It's 26 degrees C. And no, the thermometer is not in the sun. Thank you very much, human body, for adjusting to this tropical climate. Now, a Canadian winter will certainly kill me.

Tonga's "winter" right now feels more like a Canadian summer. Summer in Tonga is like winter was in Afghanistan. And I wasn't in Afghanistan in the summer, but I imagine it's pretty much like winter on the sun.

Bicycle Tour of Tonga (gratis)

With a bit of Daniel luck, I found a whole bunch of my common Tongan cycling sights together in one small stretch of road! Just missing a few fat sauntering pigs, and a rabid dog chasing me...

(The quality is not fantastic, but it took a crazy long time to upload this without errors, so I'm pretty happy about it).

Best Kept Secret? To Ha'apai!

The Kingdom of Tonga is divided into four regional groups, kind of like provinces except they don't complain as much. I've been living on Tongatapu island in the Tongatapu group, of which 'Eua and Pangaimotu, two other islands I've been to, are a part. Ha'apai is the next group "up" as they run north-south. Above Ha'api is Vava'u, then the Niuas. Vava'u is Tonga's main tourist destination, and I'm often told it's filled with other palangi ("so THAT'S where they're hiding").

Ha'apai is thus often described to me as "Tonga's best kept secret," or "untouched beauty" or something similar. It's supposed to have kilometers of those white sandy beaches with turquoise waters that everyone associates with the South Pacific. Which would be great, because the beaches on Tongatapu are nice but the real good ones are on the western side, a fair ways from my apartment.

When I first made plans to spend two or three weeks of my break in Ha'apai, a Japanese teacher I know tried to dissuade me. He had gone to Ha'apai for five days, and pleaded, "there's nothing to do!" In that exclamation, he summed up my number one reason for going. Of course my guidebook mentions hiking, caving, kayaking, and snorkeling in Ha'apai, all activities that my friend has no interest in, so I was confident that I would find"something" to do. But if none of these activities existed, I would be just as happy reclining in a promised hammock at my private beach falé with a good book. The Green Dictator can testify to the pleasure I take from doing, literally, nothing. It was what I did for months after Afghanistan, while he begrudgingly departed for work every day.

"I would get bored with all that free time," friends told me. At yet, it never happened to me in the entire six months. It's this attitude that makes "island living" so attractive to me, and this attitude that causes me to occasionally look ahead with concern to my eventual re-integration into Western society... I look forward to retirement, but in the meantime, I've been looking forward to a vacation within a vacation in Ha'apai.

I'll write about it and post some pictures in a few weeks when I get back. In the meantime, by popular demand (Leo's popular, right?), here is me sporting my Tongan haircut while I'm eating my breakfast:

Tongan Haircut

My last. In the 5+ months I've been here in Tonga, I've gotten two haircuts. When I first arrived I was using my clippers, but later I wanted to let my hair grow in a bit. I got a haircut that was ok...just ok...and then recently I was looking like a resident of the Mushroom Kingdom and went in for a second cut. Which circles back to my opening statement.

There are no barber shops here, just stylists, with names like "Barbie's Hair Salon" that don't inspire much confidence in this Ken. I'm also a palangi, with a fine, soft, free-flowing head of hair. Quite different from the hair on your average Tongan (usually thick and curly). Which might explain the frequent Tongan dialogs between stylists when I sit down in the chair (that is, when it's not faka'ofo'ofa palangi, which means "handsome white man" and is one of the few phrases of Tonga I can recognize). But this time, the stylist changed twice before someone started in with the scissors. That should have been my cue to go, but I figured I was committed once I had that towel around my neck. So my real moment of panic came halfway through the cutting when the stylist told me something to the effect of, "my brother cuts men's hair, but he isn't here...but I am trying my best." And since I said I wanted to keep most of the top length, I left looking pretty much like Guile from Street Fighter.

No, I will not add a photo (of myself, but here's Guile to help you visualize). But I will stop getting my hair cut. I assume my beard already helps me resemble the "Canadian lumberjack" from the fantasies of many Tongan ladies, so I'm letting my hair go wild and untamed to match it. Something I have attempted before. At least until it's Mickey O'Neil length, and then I'll reevaluate...or get it cut in roughly five months when I go to New Zealand.

Midyear and Canada Day

I haven't forgotten about the blog, but there hasn't been much of note and I'm determined not to fill this site with rambling day-by-day stuff. That being said, I'll tell you some rambling week-by-week stuff! We just finished midyear exams at the school. My kids (I always call them "my kids" which makes the other teachers laugh, but for some reason it comes out of my mouth more naturally that "my students"; I think because I'm still getting used to the idea that I'm a teacher), did fairly well. Not stellar (well a few did stellar), but because of the way it's all set up, their midyear mark just determines if they can sit the final and has no role whatsoever in their actual final mark.

So with that in mind, they all scored high enough to sit the final if they choose to, and we've still got two more terms to prepare for that. Essay writing was the hardest for most of them, which is no surprise considering English is a second language. I remember French being tough, and I don't think I had to write a bunch of essays on historical topics in my grade 10 and 11 French exams. The most frustrating part is that it's really cultural in Tonga to "save face," and avoid being embarrassed. As a result, I have to work extra hard to get the kids to come forward with questions, because they'd rather not know that risk being embarrassed showing that they don't know.

Canada Day is next week (I'll beat you all to it by 18 hours!), and I've prepared a "lecture" (no note taking required) for my students. The Simpsons joke, "It took the children 40 minutes to locate Canada on the map" is probably an all too frightening reality in my classroom. As previously mentioned, people assume if I'm not from the United States and I say I'm from further north, I must be Norwegian. My "not boring parts of Canadian history" Canada Day class includes French explorers who thought they had discovered China, or at least thought a great lake was the Pacific ocean, the war of 1812, and the Summit Series. I mention hockey enough in class that I thought it would be fun to throw that in, especially for the class where we're studying the Cold War. Keeping in mind that I have just 45min, I decided to forgo a lot of other certainly not boring highlights like Vimy Ridge and Juno beach and focus on some more "fun" events. Remembering my favourite Heritage Minutes helped a lot! So if you do nothing else on Canada Day, be sure to take comfort in the fact that I taught a bunch of island kids, who seemingly never heard of Canada before I showed up at their school, my own skewed and glossed over version of our history!

In the Meantime

If there's something you can depend on in Tonga, it's holidays (and taro). Between Tongan holidays, Australian holidays, New Zealand's holidays, Catholic holidays, and just plain days off of school, I have a day off almost every week. Last week was the March to Parliament (day off), Ex-Student's Day (day off), and today is some Catholic holiday (so, day off). In fact, in the next seven weeks, I will be working for about two of them. The next two weeks are mid-term exams, during which I have to go to school for just one day to invigilate my form 6 students (the ones from the picture). After that, back for two weeks of school, and then three weeks off for the midterm break (I've already booked my flight to Ha'api).

Just sharing a little insight into island living. When I was maybe 10 (? Mom and Dad would know) I used to have a t-shirt that said BEACH BUM with a crocodile wearing sunglasses. I had no idea how true that would become (though my sunglasses are way cooler than that crocodile's 80s pair). I've taken a bunch of pictures around Tonga in the last couple weeks that I'll post, but in the meantime I though I'd just put up a link to an article I just read that basically explains everything that's been going on in Tonga's recent history, and the topic that's on everyone's tongues right now:

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/australasia/a-party-fit-for-a-king-ndash-but-not-needy-tonga-839606.html

Geckos

There are no snakes, there are no alligators, there are no crocodiles, there are no snapping turtles, (thank God, because I’ve biked through many a mangrove swamp). There are no native mammals except the fruit bat, and it doesn’t count. But there are geckos, geckos, and geckos. And geckos. All sizes, all colours, united by the exact same little gecko turds they leave everywhere. They cling to the walls and ceiling like Spider-man, and you pray that two of them never find each because they’ll issue forth ear-piercing…just awful…war cries before they fight to the death (meaning until one of them lets go). They don’t bite, but they do leave their tail behind if you get too close.

One in particular lives near my food cupboard, eating every ant that tries to reach my honey pot. I wasn’t sure what to think of them when I got to Tonga, until I saw one eat a mosquito in an amazingly quick movement, huzzah!

The honey gecko admiring a bit of fancy Tongan electrical work. Despite his usefulness in keeping away ants, I often find him licking the side of the honey container, making him just as guilty.

A gecko hanging out on the screen of my window, completely oblivious to the fact that a simple flick of my finger would send him flying...not that I would do that...

This time...Lapaha

With the might of the Catholic School Board behind me, I ventured once again to Lapaha determined to see the langi with my form 6 (grade 12) history class. It was, especially for the kids, a trip to remember. That’s mostly because they rode in the back of an open truck and it rained. When it rains, it pours. But it Tonga, when it rain, it pours in a torrential onslaught. Luckily for me, it stopped when we got to Lapaha and I remained dry. Unluckily for them, we hit another storm on the way back.

One of our deputy principals had spoken several times to the Mu’a town officer, who had assured us that the site would be open. But it’s Tonga. So when we got there and found it locked, I was much less surprised than I would have been had I taken this trip when I was still new to the culture. This time, with a cell phone call, I got the key and unrestricted unsupervised access to the richest concentration of archeological remains in Tonga!

The history lesson that follows comes largely from Wikipedia, meaning it could just have easily been written by Leo as by someone who actually knows something about Tongan history. Still, I also found the key stuff in the only book on Pacific history I have, Howe’s Where the Waves Fall.

The Tu’i Tonga Empire was a powerful Pacific Empire, centred in Tonga with an influence that extended to Fiji and Samoa. The empire began around 950 AD. To put that in perspective, its around the same time the Eastern Roman Empire was at the height of its power, Vikings were raiding France, and the Chinese used gunpowder in battles without actually coming up with the idea of a gun. The first Tu’i Tonga, ‘Aho’eitu, was the son of Tangaloa ‘Eitumâtupu’a, the Tongan God who came down from the sky, and a mortal Tongan woman. That’s because they knew the empire would be doomed to fail without at least an endorsement from a god, or better yet a half-god emperor to kick it off.

From the twelfth to sixteenth century AD, Mu’a, the town we visited, was the capital of the Tu’i Tonga Empire. And although the empire eventually disintegrated, Mu’a stayed as a kind of spiritual centre. The Tu’i Tonga lost political power but gained spiritual power, becoming high priests. My Wikipedia source says “they were perhaps even more awesome than as kings.” Coincidently this was about the time I started looking through the textbook too.

When the Tu’i Tonga died, they were buried in the langi – big man made hills surrounded by huge slabs of coral rock, usually in three or more tiered layers. There are 28 around Mu’a, 15 being “monumental,” but we focused mainly on the Paepae’o Tele’a. That’s because it’s the biggest and best preserved. And when you've seen the best, why settle for the rest! The stones are enormous, and legend holds that, through magic, the slabs were moved from ‘Uvea (aka Wallis Island) to Tonga. I am sorry to say that this was probably not the case. The Tu’i Tonga were powerful, but their magic was best adapted to making slaves move the big rocks around after they were quarried from the coral around Tongatapu.

The Paepae’o Tele’a was long thought to hold the body of Tele’a (‘Ulukimata I), a Tu’i Tonga from the sixteenth century who was one of the mightiest. His actual body may not be inside, because legend holds that he drown at sea and his body was lost. That didn’t stop me from taking a quick look while I was there, throwing the archaeological knowledge I gained from dozens of Indiana Jones viewings into practice.

The Paepae’o Tele’a - it's like they started to build a pyramid, and then with a true Tongan attitude decided, "meh, this is high enough," and took a nap.

My class, minus two students who may have skipped the trip, making them lucky this teacher doesn't include beats in his discipline plan! Really though, I don't know if teaching is supposed to be this fun. I look forward to every class because this group is good for a laugh but ready to work, every day.

Waving goodbye to the site, momentarily considering keeping the key for future access, remembering that I got it from the house of one of the most powerful chiefs in Tonga, then heading to the truck, to return the key.

On the way to Lapaha

I was going to write about the Lapaha royal burial tombs after my visit on Saturday. But the "WELCOME TO PAKI MO E TO'I" sign appeared just before a locked gate. I'm taking my grade 12 class there on Thursday for a field trip. I guess I'll have extend my "expert" charade to Tongan History now too, which is no big stretch since I also teach a university course on Pacific Politics. In the meantime, here are some pictures I took along the way to Lapaha, and a couple I've been saving.

Rain rain rain. This is what it looked like one morning when I was thinking about going to class. It's the cyclone season, and though I have yet to experience one (I'm promised one or two a year), I did enjoy a full week of rain that ended (thankfully) Friday night. Although, with heavy rains, comes the Tongan equivalent of a snow day - rainy day programs at school!

God said he wouldn't destroy the world with a flood again. But with all the rain, I guess this guy chose to play it safe to save his family and his 2 cats, 2 dogs, 2 pigs, 2 chickens,...

On the way to Lapaha I found Captain Cook's landing point. Legend holds that, landing at this spot, he told a local boy to tell the King of his arrival. Then he took a nap under a great banyan tree this plaque claims stood here. My own experience with banyan trees suggests they're all infested with spiders, but then I've been in Tonga longer than the captain had. I thought this guy was offering to take my picture, but it turned out he was asking me to take HIS picture. After, when I offered him the camera, he instead shook my hand and said goodbye. And I shared my apples with him! He did offer me one of the many girlfriends he claimed to have in Lapaha, though. All in all, thanks to the language barrier, it was an interesting apple-eating session.

You can't say being Canadian doesn't count for something. In Tonga, it means good sardines!

Island Dogs

Good God, I hate them. Hate is a strong word, I know, but I’m just reciprocating their own feelings for me. I wrote that they all got together one day and decided they hate me. And there are only three kinds of dogs in Tonga:

First, there are wild dogs. These dogs don’t just wander the streets, they also hide in the bushes, and they are mangy, feral, ill tempered, and usually run in packs. You know in the bloopers at the end of Talladega Nights Will Ferrel says one of the problems facing America is packs of wild dogs that control most of the major cities? That is Tonga.

Second, there are guard dogs. Theft is high in Tonga, and with so many wild dogs around, a lot of people just throw some scraps of food at them until they start to guard their property. These are the kind I run into most when I’m biking – they always include the road as part of their territory. There is nothing I have found that will pump more adrenalin into your system then turning a corner and hearing three dogs on the other side of a fence growl and foam at the mouth as they begin running in what looks like the start of a race at the track. That’s because Tongan fences do not include working gates, and so seconds later you can bet those dogs will pop out of the yard at sixty miles an hour looking for you. When I ran into several such dogs on my way to the west coast, my bike chain had just jumped into the grove between second and first gear (as it sometimes does on the pothole filled roads). Trying to shift it up with dogs snapping at my ankles was…terrifying. I employed a theory I had been working on – cars in Tonga don’t slow down for dogs, and once a dog gets hurt he realizes that he should walk a little faster crossing the road. I gave the closest, meanest looking dog a solid kick in the nose, taking care not to lose my toes in the process. In that instant he looked right into my eyes and got ten times angrier. My chain finally hopped up to second gear, I immediately shifted it to third, and biked like never before.

The third kind of dog in Tonga is the dead dog. All three smell bad, but this is the only kind that poses no immediate danger to me.

Goofus and Doofus, along with Cat. Obviously I haven’t learned their real names, but these animals (and the dogs’ mother) patrol our apartment and are the only mammals in Tonga (bats included) that like me.

The West Coast or Bust

Although Tonga’s capital, Nuku’alofa, is the biggest “city” in the Tongan isles, there are upwards of sixty villages on Tongatapu, the island I live on. Those are just the ones they bothered to include on the Places of Interest map I bought when I got here. Every few days I circle another one or two on the map as “villages I’ve biked to,” but this Saturday I made plans to reach the west coast. I’ve been to the south coast already, but the west coast promises to deliver Tongatapu’s best beaches and resorts, the “flying fox sanctuary,” and, according to my map, “Christianity Landing Place,” which I hoped would be way cooler than “Captain Cook Landing Place” - a plaque. It’s more the trip than the destination anyways; I really just wanted to circle the twelve villages between me and the northwest tip of the island. It’s about 25 km from where I live (a village called Halaleva), meaning a 50 km round trip. That being said, once I’m on a road I am easily distracted by other roads and the thought, “I wonder where that one goes…”

I’d biked to the village of Fatai a few days earlier, which was on the main road leading to the west coast, so I headed there again. On the way, I saw a sign pointing to the “green waste recycling centre,” and my first distraction. I turned and followed a twisty road for about forty minutes, even after I passed the compost piles that made up the recycling centre (I don’t know what I expected…but a facility that only allowed green-coloured waste would be just crazy enough to work in Tonga). At first I was sure that I was heading West parallel to the main road, but eventually began to wonder if the roads would ever meet up. In typical Tongan fashion the many km long road ended as a driveway to a house in the middle of nowhere (though I’m sure Andre would point out that it’s somewhere in the owner’s lives). I biked back to where I had gotten sidetracked.

After a run in with a dog pack (dogs in Tonga got together at some point and all agreed they hated me), a surge of adrenalin and the discovery of the main (paved) road put me back on track. Awhile later I was as far as the village of Te’eliu. I would find that out later, having left the map at home – where’s the fun if I know exactly where I am! There, I saw another main-looking road headed “left,” and growing bored of the same straight road, I turned. For a “main” road, it was devoid of cars – I never saw any, but I did see plenty of bats. On a side note, almost every coconut tree in Tonga seems to be a “flying fox sanctuary.” There’s a massive gathering of them in a coconut grove near my apartment, and I don’t know where the idea that they’re night creatures comes from (science?), but Tongan bats don’t seem to know that. They fly around over my head with a never-ending screech-chatter whenever I pass.

The road ended at the south coast, officially turning my western trip into a plan for another day. I biked from Hā’utu to ‘Utulau (a village sponsored by the Japanese government, as every “this facility provided in friendship by Japan” sign suggested). Then, past the Princess’ residence and north towards home. And that’s when my rear tire blew. I heard it, and I felt it, but I tried to ignore until a few minutes later I was biking on the rim and got off. From there, I walked the 5 km left to my apartment, shaking my head at the many tire repair shops I passed who followed the Tongan custom of closing for the day at lunch on Saturdays.

Ready to roll, and, I’ll be the first to admit, looking pretty sharp

For the “off-road” experience in Tonga, you just have to stay on the roads


It was at this time that I began to wonder if the road I was on would ever meet up with the main road, and for kicks, took a picture

Cursing the Tongan tire god; though, now that I was home, knowing my tire repair kit would make short work of the problem

Oh, and when I passed the Princess’ residence, I was lucky beyond belief to see her white tigers outside. The picture is at a distance, but it was as close as I dared get for fear of being mauled!

I Visit the Palace

Finally. I’ve been in the country for over two months. I just got back my passport, with a multiple-entry visa good until March 2010. And, I’m one of a handful of palangi in the country. Yet, despite all that, I hadn’t yet been summoned to the Palace! On Friday, that all changed. After having biked past the Palace many times getting no more than a salute from the army soldiers who double as Palace guards (in full jungle camo, no less), this time the iron gate opened for me. I found out at a school assembly on Monday that I would be granted entry. In preparation for the new king’s coronation week (much delayed after 2006’s riots), my school had been assigned a very specific duty. We would take care of…hiko? Huh? “What’s hiko?” I asked another teacher, hoping it was something cool like feeding the princess’ white tigers. “Hiko is yard work, garbage clean-up.” “Oh.” All the same, I was excited. The new King would officially receive his crown soon in a coronation ceremony, and work was being done all over the country to get ready. For some reason, the assigned area of work for ‘Api Fo’ou (my school) was the Palace grounds. And not around the outside gates of the Palace. We would actually be working inside the grounds around the Palace itself. On Friday, I arrived in my shorts. It was hot hot hot outside, and I knew I’d be working outside, so it seemed natural. It wasn’t until we began moving through the gate that another teacher joked I might not be allowed inside in shorts. This was news to me, and there was actually a discussion in Tongan with the soldier working gate duty, “something something palangi?” “Palangi something something,” the soldier replied, and waved me in. Fifteen minutes later, I was back outside the gate. After entering the Palace grounds, I joined another teacher and a group of students who were working on deweeding the gardens. A few minutes later, two Tonga officers (in their jungle camo) approached me. One said something in Tongan, and I replied that I could not yet speak Tongan. “Um, go home please,” the other officer translated. Then, in full view of a thousand students who quickly stopped working to watch, an officer walked on either side of me as I was escorted to the gate. At the gate, I saw the soldier who had let me in, and asked him what exactly was going on. While he explained that I was not properly dressed, the school administrator argued my case in Tongan with the officers. They told me to wait at the gate. Soldiers came and went, talking with the officers and the teacher, always in Tongan so I didn’t know what they said, but I knew what it was about. Meanwhile, students from my classes and my Ultimate team continually approached the officers and pleaded. I caught words like “Taniela,” my name in Tongan, and “historia,” that I was the school’s history teacher, but they were waved off. Finally something was said to the gate guard, and he told me I would have to leave. I asked what I needed to come back, and he said I had to wear a “tupenu” and a “ta’ovala.” That’s a wraparound skirt, and a woven mat tied around my waist with coconut rope. They’re traditionally worn by Tongan men when meeting royalty, or on formal occasions, to show respect. They’re also two components of the school uniform, so all the male students were wearing them. All the male teachers, however, were not. The teacher I was standing beside when I was first approached by the officers was wearing jeans. The school administrator who talked with the officers was wearing trousers. So I asked, if I came back in pants, would I be allowed in? “No,” he replied, “only tupenu and ta’ovala.” Thoroughly dejected, I began to bike home. I saw another teacher sitting outside the gate, who somehow already knew what had happened. “Good luck for you,” he told me, “now you can go home.” But I didn’t want to go home, I wanted to work with my school at the Palace! As I biked past ‘Api Fo’ou, I became determined to get back onto the Palace grounds. I turned into the school, and found one of the deputy principals who was just about to drive to the Palace. I explained what had happened, and she called over a Form 7 boy (they didn’t have to work, because of midterms) who was my size. He got his extra tupenu and ta’ovala, and showed me how to put them on. Then I caught a ride back to the Palace. The gate guard grinned when he saw me approach. He swung open the gate and I walked back onto the grounds feeling pretty proud. It’s definitely an unusual outfit (wearing a mat?), so I hate to admit it, but I do look pretty damn good in the traditional Tongan garb. Evidently everyone knew the story of what had happened; the students were sitting, having just finished their work, and they were all turning around, the girls giggling and the boys giving me the thumbs-up. I was a determined palangi and I hoped the officers got a good look before we all went home for the day. Now maybe next time I’ll get to feed the tigers. Or they’ll feed me to them.

And More Pictures

“Royal Beer” – in the nineties, the King saw his chance to make some money and a bunch of Belgians saw their chance to unload a profitless business. The result – Tongans drink expensive imported beer like Heineken, Coors, and Victoria Bitter, while palangi (including yours truly) suck back the very cheap Royal Ikale.

The WZ UP WASHUP, it seems even remote Pacific Tonga couldn’t escape this Budweiser craze

Sadly their fate was the same as any other who base their business model on a slogan. Still I bet for a good three months, this was THE place to wash your car in Tonga!

P.S. - I added a Tonga Compared to Canada table to the bottom of this page

More Pictures

Some days the internet here at school is just faster than others. Today seems to be one of those days, and I was able to upload some more pictures:

The Tongan avocado. Freak of nature, perhaps, but just one of these makes a pretty big bowl of guacamole!

The view from my apartment’s veranda. Yah-yah, sweet. I’m right on the edge of the lagoon (the bright light in the background), and the apartment community owns a canoe that I often take out on weekends to just cruise around.

A more typical view in Tonga