Tonga Time Part 1

Oceania » Tonga
July 14th 2007

Published: August 5th 2007

Hello bloggos. Sorry I haven’t posted for a while but I am a very busy man these days. I have no idea how I am going to manage to hold down a job when the trip is over although I am gaining good experience in my new role as a Kiwi “house husband”, as appointed by my brother’s housemates. It looks from the news reports as though I am missing a ripper of a summer over in England. Hope no-one has been caught up in the floods and you are staying dry. I have many stories to finish off from the rest of my tour around New Zealand but I will come back to them at a later date. I cannot comment on everything that happened for “legal reasons”. Nick is still being investigated by the New Zealand police for alleged serious crimes against disco dancing in a Christchurch nightclub. Let’s hope his new job as a scientist is keeping him on the straight and narrow.

I have just returned from 2 weeks in the magnificent country of Tonga. From the moment that the islands of Tonga appear in the aeroplane window, I sensed that this was going to be unlike anywhere I had been before. The airport runway nestled amidst row upon row of coconut trees. A pleasant blast of warm weather greeted me making a nice difference to the chilly Auckland winter I had temporarily left behind. Even the immigration hall gives a friendly welcome. Rather than severe looking security personnel and posters warning about terrorism, the hall was decorated with colourful pictures drawn by local school children welcoming visitors to Tonga. Even the sniffer dogs looked more interested in giving visitors a friendly welcome lick than sniffing around bags for dubious substances. Outside the airport, I found a taxi that seemed to be held together with sticky tape to take me on the journey into the country’s capital, Nuku’alofa. On the journey there, the driver pulled into a couple of driveways to pick up people and drop them off at various points. All done with no explanation as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Everyone got in with a friendly smile and a cry of “malo e lelei”, the Tongan greeting.

Once I was settled into my accommodation, I set off to explore the town. The main street appeared to be preparing for some sort of party. I later discovered that I had arrived during the middle of the Heilala Festival, named after a red flower that blooms here during the winter months. It’s a huge week-long proliferation of eating, partying, dancing, cultural displays and general merriment. And when Tongans party, they really party. No point dilly dallying with half measures. After an enormous breakfast, I joined the crowds on the main street to watch the carnival parade. A procession of floats chugged by filled with colour and music. There were several beauty queens from the various competitions that had been taking place. There was Miss Tonga, Miss Overseas Tonga, the winner of Tongan Idol (really!), Miss New Zealand Tongan, Mr Tonga and Miss Galaxy, the winner of the competition for transvestites. There were several brass bands from the police and military blaring out the classics. Some traditional warrior like dancers menacingly filled the gaps between the floats. It was a crazy introduction to Tonga but great to see. As with most things in Tonga, it was followed up by road side feasts everywhere you looked.

After the festivities, I had a mission to complete. The parents of my brother’s fiancé, Becky, currently live in Nuku’alofa, so I had to track down their house and deliver some goods. Not so challenging in most places but Tonga is a country that tends to economise a little bit when it comes to signs showing street names and they don’t really believe in house numbers at all. Luckily, Becky had drawn me a good map including the cow-style pattern on the front gates. After a bit of fumbling around the residential streets gaining more and more Tongan hellos from the locals, I had tracked down the house. I was greeted like some kind of distinguished guest and immediately fed again. Becky’s parents looked fit and healthy and I was introduced to more of the family. They seemed happy to have a “palangi” (white man) visitor and started making plans to give me tours and take me to see the sights.

The next night, I was taken to a Tongan feast by Becky’s aunt and uncle. I am trying not to be too cliché-ridden but it was fantastic. The feast was held in a large hall with open walls and a thatched roof located right next to the beach and the Pacific Ocean swishing merrily away in the background. Becky’s uncle Kofe was pleased to hear that I would be happy to drink the local Tongan beer with him. He immediately ordered four bottles of Ikale, two for him and two for me. That’s my kind of ordering. Within a few short minutes, Kofe clunked down an empty bottle on the table and gave me a satisfied smile. He eyed up my beer, which I’d only just started on. The invitation was clear to me. I had to keep up with my host. I cracked on, finished the first beer and noticed the smile on Kofe’s face when I had done so. The pattern continued through the evening. Then there was the food. There were around 150 people at the feast and the man with the microphone (sort of a Tongan Bruce Forsythe) was keen to stress that there would be more than enough food for everyone. It is the Tongan way, he told us. He wasn’t joking. There was food of every kind. I had no idea what some of the dishes were but I just kept piling it onto my plate and noshing away. Meat, fish, meat, lobster, meat, a few Tongan veggies and then a bit more meat. We were entertained by a live band playing Tongan music. This was followed by several displays of traditional dancing. The dancing girls were one of the few things to distract me from my food and drink that night. The feast merrily continued into the wee small hours. I sat back, stared out at the ocean and realised that there are moments on this trip when I’ve done things I never imagined I would ever do. Attending a Tongan feast was one of them.

Still to come - I hop over to another Tongan island, find out why I am sitting on the floor drinking murky liquid out of a coconut shell and what am I doing wandering around a Tongan jail cell.

Keep safe everyone and see you soon

Joff

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