Going Nowhere Anytime Soon...

A Tongan paradise dwells on the forgotten island of Uoleva.....swaying palm trees, sweet coconut milk, cobalt skies, pink and white clouds floating overhead, a soft lullaby of waves at the tips of your toes and miles and miles away from civilization. Time has stopped. There are no queues, no traffic, no noise, and virtually nobody around except a few languid backpackers......a beach bum's dream come true and a workaholic’s worst nightmare. The five tanned bodies of my English travel buddies are stretched out in various stages of sleepiness, all glistening with tanning oil or the smarter choice of SPF 30. I have refused to move all day except to swat at the rather annoying sand flies that tend to hover over those unfortunate souls who forgot their insect repellent. Paradise at last! All that I'm missing is a huge bottle of dark, Tongan rum. Jimmy Buffet would be disappointed that we forgot such an important island necessity. It would have mixed perfectly with daily refreshment of coconuts, courtesy of our strong man with the good climbing skills and two foot long machete.

The six of us arrived to the welcoming sandy beaches of Uoleva two days ago. Believe it or not, we walked to this deserted island at low tide, crossing by means of the sandy reef that links Uoleva to the much bigger island of Ha'apai. Timed just right, it is possible to walk the 1 km between the islands by skipping across the higher stones and sand dunes uncovered at low tide. We were not as lucky as previous voyagers. As with all things in Tonga, the tidal charts at the visitor's bureau were from 1996. Nobody seemed to know just when low tide might be so we were left to sit on the bank and haphazardly guess when the opportune moment presented itself. Unfortunately we were a bit too eager to laze about, lying in the sun and playing with the wild horses so we started crossing the channel about 15 minutes too late. Instead of slowing sloshing across with water soothing our ankles, we had to strip to our swimsuits and fight the extremely strong current as we carried our bags over our heads. This was a completely feeble attempt to arrive in a semi-dry state on the other side of the reef. What should have been an enjoyable trek across a simple sandy bank turned into a perilous journey running across sharp rocks, slicing open our bare feet and hurrying to reach the other side before the rushing tide came in and washed us away. At one point we had water clear up to our waists and it was still rapidly rising, making it difficult to stand up let alone attempt to walk. Halfway across, even I was a bit afraid that we would all meet premature deaths on the glorious Pacific Island. "Stupid Western Girls Attempt to Walk on Water" would have made a nice headline for the Tongan daily newspaper. However, perhaps my prayer to all existing gods had some sort of impact for we were soon kissing the solid ground of Uoleva and nursing our slashed and bloody feet. Just so you know - we took a boat back when we returned.

The hazardous trek was well worth the trepidation and foot laceration. Uoleva is completely isolated except for one lonely guesthouse called Diana's Place. No electricity, no running water, no dogs fighting pigs, no pigs fighting cats, no cars honking - ahhhh, peace at last. My shower yesterday consisted of washing my hair in the sea by the light of an oil lamp. Not the cleanliest way perhaps, but one has to adjust to their environment right? We boiled our kettle for tea and noodles from a bonfire made of forgotten coconuts and torn palm fronds. After sunset, there is no T.V., no music, no internet, no lights and nothing to do except lie for hours on the deserted beach and watch shooting stars. We counted twelve of them and I almost ran out of wishes....almost. I could get use to this lifestyle.

Diana and Kalifi are the lovely Tongan couple who run this off-the-beaten-path guesthouse. Upon sitting down for afternoon tea one rainy afternoon, I've learned that they are truly a marvelous pair. Kalafi was once a well known boxer and prize winning spear fisherman until a freak accident cost him his right arm. Now he spends his days on his small fishing boat, cruising back and forth between the islands and taking care of his guests and family. One of his many talents is making homemade bush beer, a strong, fuzzy concoction that he shared around the campfire on many occasions. Whatever was in that drink helped to bring about many interesting conversations that lasted well into the morning hours. We certainly had some laughs.

One of the best experiences was getting to know the Tongan people on a personal level. Whether it was simply through hitching a ride with the island locals or actually living with the families during my three week stay, I certainly met some amazing and intriguing individuals. When Gwenda arrived in Ha'apai, we stayed at the Fonagava'inga guesthouse, a quaint little house behind a lot full of pigs and screaming children. Langilangi, the grandmother of the house, ran the guesthouse along with her five sweet grandchildren. From dawn to dusk, she was caring for the kids, feeding the babies, cooking for the extended family members who lived nearby, trekking back and forth to church, or tidying up the house. Gwen and I stayed for several days and helped with the kids, playing with the older ones long into the night or watching the babies so Langilangi could have some quite time. (I had a scary glimpse into the future one afternoon while standing barefoot at the stove, heating water with a baby perched on my hip - yikes!!)

The children around the house were wonderful and always seemed to be cheerful. Unlike kids at home, these little tykes were happy to play for hours with a simple piece of string or pen and paper. There is a strong sense of family embedded in everyone, especially the children, for they are often responsible for watching over their younger brothers and sisters. It is also common for grandparents to assist or completely take over in the raising of their grandchildren. More often than not, the parents are working overseas in order to send money back home or saving to send their children to good, English speaking schools. Community and church are also key ingredients in the Tongan lifestyle. Everybody is either a brother, sister, uncle or aunt, even if there is no actual blood relationship. Food is shared, money is loaned, kids are shuttled between households and everyone shares the special bond of religion with one another.

Like many South Pacific islands, the church plays a central role in all aspects of life. Tonga is no exception as the islanders are deeply religious people. There is a church on every block and on every corner as well. Sunday is a sacred day. Tongans are prohibited from working, traveling, swimming, drinking….basically anything fun! Planes don’t fly, boats cannot land, and every single store, café, and market stall is closed for the day. There is nothing to do but join the locals as they traipse back and forth to church in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Gwenda and I visited one of the local churches in Ha’apai and sat amongst the Tongans, each one dressed in their finest and clutching well worn bibles. Even the shiny cheeked children were well behaved for the duration of the three hour services. They looked beautiful too! Little girls dressed in flouncy dresses had perfect braids cascading down their backs and prim, delicate ribbons. The young boys sat tall and proud beside their parents, each one trying to imitate his father’s strong, graceful posture. I was simply awe-struck when we were motioned to rise and sing. Hymnals were pointless. Everyone knew all the words to every song and sang in perfect harmony and pitch with the rest of the congregation. Although we didn’t know the words, I could have listened for hours to the angelic gospels. After church, everyone sits in the shade to chatter and watch the kids run around, wasting their pent up energy. Some families have feasts and invite all neighboring houses and friends. If not, the rest of the day is spent lying around or walking through the silent, ghost town, hoping to catch some terrific photographs.

When I first arrived in Nuka’alofa, the capital and most bustling city of Tonga, there was a huge church festival taking place. Hundreds of visitors from the surrounding islands journeyed by boat or plane to participate in the meetings and church services that spanned across the two week festival. The fun part was that there were enormous feasts four times a day and we were invited to attend several of them. Talk about food - - man!! The long white tables were stacked high with every type of food available on the island. There were pigs, lobsters, crabs, eggs, noodles, sweet and sour chicken, taro, potatoes, bananas, mussels and octopus, breads and sweets and, of course, coconuts for drinking. My favorite was to’akuto, a coconut ball that is deep fried and sprinkled with sugar. There was also an interesting concoction of mystery meat and green vegetables that always seemed to be available and actually tasted quite nice! Unfortunately, although it was usually the centerpiece of our table, I wasn’t a fan of the pig, mostly because the piggies were usually scrawny and didn’t have much meet on them. It was fun to cut them open and pull the skin off though! The locals got a kick out of watching us pass the food around, sniffing it and analyzing what could be inside. Many times, they came to sit beside me, shoving everyone aside to present me with a new dish and pile even more food on my plate. Half the time I had no idea what I was eating and probably don’t want to find out.

Like nobody I have ever seen before, the Tongans definitely enjoy their food. I didn’t know that the human body was capable of consuming so much food in a single sitting. One of the men across from me just ate and ate and ate….I was probably staring at him for quite some time but his talents were truly admirable! He was wearing a little pin that had a smily face and Tongan phrase inscribed. Upon inquiry, I had to laugh when he told me that it said, “Live each day to the fullest.” He was apparently taking those words to heart with his eating habits.

Usually a Tongan feast is prepared in an umu, an underground oven. Here, the food is usually wrapped in banana or tapa leaves and slow cooked for hours and hours until all of the flavors are absorbed. For the church feast, different families and villages took over the responsibility of cooking for a particular table or section of tables. It was a huge task and a considerable economic tax on the families who prepared the food. However, it was part of their dedication to the church and community. On a side note, it’s mind boggling to consider how many pigs were slathered for the festive occasion. Assuming each of the sixty tables had two or three pigs for each of the four feasts daily, that is quite an impact on the island’s population of little Wilbur’s running around.

Although my experience on Tonga has been delightful, I think that my carefree attitude and acceptance of the Tongan lifestyle, known as Tongan time, has been of considerable help. I’ve met many backpackers and travelers who are having a hard time adjusting to the various schedules around town and general unreliability instilled in the local people. It is difficult to get anything accomplished or arrive at a significant answer to any question. Upon inquiring about the location of the ferry office, I was pointed in sixty different directions before finally stumbling onto the dusty, hole in the wall room. Just my luck, it was closed in the middle of the day. There were plenty of people standing around but nobody knew why it was closed or if it would be open later that afternoon. “Maybe” it would be open the following day, but “maybe not.” I had the same trouble when I was trying to take a ferry to the outer islands of Ha’apai and Vava’u. The ferry “might” be going the next morning, “maybe at 3 a.m., but perhaps not until after 6 p.m…..or it might go the next day.” Sometimes you need to ask the same question four different times and you still get a different answer. I have to admit, it does get frustrating. Gwenda and I were planning on diving on Eua’, one of the little islands off of Tongatapu. We were assured that the diver operators were still on the island and had, in fact, taken out some dive tours the previous day. After a rather sea-sickening ferry ride, we stumbled onto the island and found out that the dive shop had been closed for about a year! This sort of thing happened over and over again and you just have to smile and take it all in with a laugh. I have come to learn that it will take two or three days to find out any information and another day because this information was wrong and the times have changed again......just another day in paradise.

A lot of time seems to be spent watching people and life pass by on the dusty streets and back roads of the villages. We spent many afternoons walking through the countryside, taking pictures of the school children, plantation workers, and other local sights. Cemeteries were always a colorful display. Death is both joyously celebrated and deeply respected, with mourning periods lasting up to ten days. Graveyards are usually garnished with colorful plastic flowers, tapestries, statues, and other types of vibrant displays of remembrance. There are as many cemeteries sprawled about the island as there are churches and all are lovingly taken care of and decorated.

We spent another afternoon on Toni’s famous island tour. Toni is an expat from the U.K. and an exceedingly interesting character to chat with. He took us around the whole Tongatapu and pointed out the various highlights, most of which were the heavily populated Morman churches! On the other hand, the blowholes on the eastern side of the island were fabulous. With the high tide swooshing in and out, there was certainly a spectacular sight along the coast. Afterwards, we went back to the guesthouse and shared some of Toni’s famous Kava. I don’t know how anyone would want to drink that stuff again after trying it once. Horrible stuff!! It honestly tastes like muddy dishwater. There is no easy way to drink it either by daintily sipping every now and then. Nope, you are expected to chug the entire cup in one drink, leaving you with a murky, gritty taste in your mouth. Uck! Although I thought it was an alcoholic drink, it apparently only has a mild calming agent in the mixture. After about ten cups, I wasn’t feeling anything and couldn’t possibly drink anymore without getting nauseous. However, it is a very popular drink with the Tongan locals, many of whom drink it every night and twice on Friday nights.

The King's birthday, on July 4th, is said to be an especially festive occassion. We seem to celebrate it at home in the State's as well! They have a beauty pagent for the ladies of the islands and one for the "lady boys" as well. That will be sure to draw out some hooting and hollering crowds. This will be the King's 88th birthday and many don't think he will make it to the 89th. He spends most of his time in Auckland, due to the humid and uncomfortable climate of Tonga. However, he has returned to Tongatapu for his birthday celebration. My English friends and I are hoping to sneak into the King's song and dance feast following the parade tomorrow night. If I'm not caught and sent to a local Tongan prison, digging up taro root for the remainder of my vacation, I'll let you know how it goes!

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