We were riding in the back of the Peace Corps vehicle heading towards town... again. The image of the airport and the normally pig filled airstrip was slowly fading into the backdrop as the driver stepped on the gas towards no real destination in particular. Like most drivers on the island, he was always in a hurry to get nowhere.
According to the schedule, all the Peace Corps trainees and staff were supposed to have left Ha’apai. As the country of Tonga normally does in situations like this, it laughed in the face of our schedules and plans, throwing them into the wind. This is island life, leave your schedule planners at home. Since we couldn't follow the 'schedule', we did what anyone would do, go to the only bar on the island.
There were two groups of trainees and staff that were to leave. The first group arrived at the airport early, eager to take the first plane out of Ha’apai. There was a farewell party at the airport so the volunteers may have just been eager to see their host family one last time or maybe they were eager to return to the mainland where they could eat a richer variety of food, who knows? The second group, not really caring exactly when they left, arrived a few hours later, only to discover that the first group was still waiting. As fate would have it, the second group’s plane arrived first and thus they were the first ones that left the island.
The second plane, which was the first group's plane, (are you confused yet?) was finally boarded and the twin engines came to life. Actually, it didn’t come to life as it instead out right died. Being in the boarding area, a Tongan friend and I gave each other looks that didn’t need words to express what was on our minds, “What the fuck sound was that? Did a pig jump into the engine? That isn’t normal at all!” Thankfully, no pigs jumped into the spinning motors, as that would prove to be quite a colorful image and quite the leap.
A few minutes later, the passengers came off the steps of the airplane, clearly disappointed with the events that transpired. If it were me however, I’d have had the opposite feeling and be quite ecstatic; thank God we weren’t even a foot in the air yet before the engine decided to die.
After a few hours of the mechanic trying to ‘diagnose’ the problem (over the phone), they decided that it was futile to fix the plane… over the phone. We joked around about how the guy on the other line was probably googling “how to fix maumau vakapuna” on a 56k connection in Fiji.
Some of the passengers that were on the plane came over to see if they could fix the problem, as if they had a background in Aerospace Engineering and were familiar with planes from the World War II era. I’m sure that the remotest experience anyone had with fixing an airplane engine was more likely some girl with a Bachelors of Arts in African American Women Gender Studies.
In any case, they’d give us a call if they fixed the plane before 6 p.m., about as likely as giant eagles landing in the middle of the airfield and saying in perfect English that they’ll give us a lift over to the next island group as long as we didn’t pull on their feathers too harshly.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
A riot... *sigh*
Monday, November 20, 2006
At first glance, it might look like a Tsunami ravaged the country’s capital. Reports indicate that approximately 80% of the downtown area is destroyed, though it doesn’t require statistics for anyone living in Tongatapu to know that the destruction of their home is quite rampant. The old Nuku’alofa has risen in smoke and the remaining buildings struggle to uphold the faint image of their former selves.
The current images are harrowing and almost surreal; one moment you’re walking near white sanded beaches with a florid green landscape, then in another step you’re standing in what looks and feels like a war zone.
To add to the battlefield feel, there’s a joint military force from New Zealand and Australia surrounding the downtown area. Just the simple idea that there is a military in Tonga is a far stretch of the imagination. To give you a sense of how the country’s security force operates, police vehicles are mainly used to clear pigs off the dirt road and jails are nothing more than a two feet sheet of metal ‘gate’.
Currently forensic teams are digging through the damaged remains for hints as to what exactly happened. Despite the professional experience and expertise of the forensic teams, they’re limited to puzzling together the events that unfolded only during the past few days of the riot. What sparked the riot is still up to much speculation, whether it was the history of political dissatisfaction or if it was a pent up reaction to the thriving foreign businesses in Tonga.
There are usually many layers of reasoning and thought behind public displays of violence of this scale, many of which I can only guess. I cannot understand the way an entire culture thinks or come close to comprehending what a country has experienced just by being here for a few months or a few years. Nor will I pretend to understand this culture in its entirety.
What I do see is that government officials and foreign businesses are caught in the middle of this ravaged war zone. To give a little background, Tonga is a constitutional monarchy teetering on the brink of democracy. As with any struggle for power, violence is always quick to ensue. No one simply hands down the political power they wield unless they absolutely have to. This helps explain the tipping of vehicles wearing the license plates that begin with PM (Prime Minister – symbolizing a government automobile).
Now that makes me wonder, how did the idea of democracy get instilled into an island group in the South Pacific?
I think it’s in part due to the sweet tasting Coca-Cola’s. It’s the classic blue jeans. It’s the Hollywood movies starring absurdly paid actors. They’re all signs of the American society permeating into a developing country thousands of miles away. You’ll find these random bits and pieces of America everywhere you go. Even when escaping to the remotest outer islands in the South Pacific, you’ll find posters of the latest hit releases appearing on the windows of stores accessible only through boat and dirt trails. It seems like American democracy and capitalism has reached the furthest ends of this globe. Upon closer inspection, if you glance past the fancy marketing labels, it makes you wonder if people see it as tangible evidence supporting the prosperity of democracy and capitalism.
The push for democracy is loud, albeit there are more suitable manners than a full scale riot. But the riot wasn’t just about a change of government. Apparently the Tongan rioters didn’t want to emulate America in all aspects, especially the idea of capitalism. Foreign businesses were targeted as well, mainly the Chinese community.
Here, we have to go into more history that involves the Tongan government, much of which I cannot get into if I still want to keep my job as a volunteer. Let’s just say that the Chinese community established numerous stores and through shrewd business ventures, became identified in Tonga as the place to shop for their cheap prices and consequently, their even cheaper quality products.
The abhorrence of foreign business by a select few was apparent when foreign shopkeepers were dragged out of their stores and beat during the riot. The effects of that are now shown as hundreds of Chinese stand crowded about the embassy, desperately waiting for the next available international flight. Currently, all international flights are closed. Even in the outer islands, the Chinese stores were robbed, which is a much more dangerous situation here because some people live in their ‘stores’.
That led me to wonder about the grim reality of the situation. My jog yesterday was down an ideal road towards my old home stay. For miles, I had run into familiar and even unfamiliar people who greeted me with friendly smiles and waves. Now that the jog is over, I’m left wondering what happens if I (or someone I know) strays from the ideal situation and comes across the same blatant racism. Where will it lead us then?
It’s funny in a sad kind of way on how certain people react to a different skin tone or to some other minor racial feature such as squinty eyes. So far my encounters have been that if I help people out, people assume I’m Japanese. If I don’t help people out, I’m assumed to be Chinese. Every other Asian race is sadly nonexistent in many of the people’s minds here.
My computer center is doing quite well. Now what if it does too well? Do I fall under the same fate as the foreign businesses? If they find out that my computer center is the place to go for their technological needs, does that endanger me in any way? If there’s an angry anti-Chinese mob, will they care that we're operating at just enough to keep the place running or that I'm only here to help Tongan owned businesses? Will they care that I’m actually an American carrying a Peace Corps identification card or a California driver’s license?
I doubt any of it would make a difference and I doubt I can explain who I am to an angry mob if they so happened to look for me. Explaining to them probably wouldn’t do me much good anyways because they’d probably be heavily intoxicated. Even when sober, certain people here can’t differentiate between a Korean and Japanese; much less grasp the concept of what a Chinese-American is.
Whatever happens, I’m willing to take that kind of risk to help dispel a bit of the racism, as seems to be the general mindset of all the volunteers here. I just hope my friends are ok, especially the ones in the larger cities.
I feel safe in Ha’apai, where the community is just small enough for people to know who I am and what I do. For the other volunteers that were placed in the city, they’re the ones who will have to endure the majority of the racism. Nuku’alofa is just big enough so that the majority of the host country nationals don’t know who you are or what you’re doing there. It takes guts and courage to be a volunteer in Nuku’alofa at a time like now.
Monday, November 13, 2006
I just finished writing the rough draft script for my first episode! This’ll be fun!!!
Oh yeah, Ding!!! Level 22, err I mean I’m 22 years old now! Thanks everyone! <3 to all!
Sunday, November 12, 2006
The weather’s getting hotter so I’ve made more frequent visits to the beach. The snorkeling here is beautiful.
At first glance, it might look like a Tsunami ravaged the country’s capital. Reports indicate that approximately 80% of the downtown area is destroyed, though it doesn’t require statistics for anyone living in Tongatapu to know that the destruction of their home is quite rampant. The old Nuku’alofa has risen in smoke and the remaining buildings struggle to uphold the faint image of their former selves.
The current images are harrowing and almost surreal; one moment you’re walking near white sanded beaches with a florid green landscape, then in another step you’re standing in what looks and feels like a war zone.
To add to the battlefield feel, there’s a joint military force from New Zealand and Australia surrounding the downtown area. Just the simple idea that there is a military in Tonga is a far stretch of the imagination. To give you a sense of how the country’s security force operates, police vehicles are mainly used to clear pigs off the dirt road and jails are nothing more than a two feet sheet of metal ‘gate’.
Currently forensic teams are digging through the damaged remains for hints as to what exactly happened. Despite the professional experience and expertise of the forensic teams, they’re limited to puzzling together the events that unfolded only during the past few days of the riot. What sparked the riot is still up to much speculation, whether it was the history of political dissatisfaction or if it was a pent up reaction to the thriving foreign businesses in Tonga.
There are usually many layers of reasoning and thought behind public displays of violence of this scale, many of which I can only guess. I cannot understand the way an entire culture thinks or come close to comprehending what a country has experienced just by being here for a few months or a few years. Nor will I pretend to understand this culture in its entirety.
What I do see is that government officials and foreign businesses are caught in the middle of this ravaged war zone. To give a little background, Tonga is a constitutional monarchy teetering on the brink of democracy. As with any struggle for power, violence is always quick to ensue. No one simply hands down the political power they wield unless they absolutely have to. This helps explain the tipping of vehicles wearing the license plates that begin with PM (Prime Minister – symbolizing a government automobile).
Now that makes me wonder, how did the idea of democracy get instilled into an island group in the South Pacific?
I think it’s in part due to the sweet tasting Coca-Cola’s. It’s the classic blue jeans. It’s the Hollywood movies starring absurdly paid actors. They’re all signs of the American society permeating into a developing country thousands of miles away. You’ll find these random bits and pieces of America everywhere you go. Even when escaping to the remotest outer islands in the South Pacific, you’ll find posters of the latest hit releases appearing on the windows of stores accessible only through boat and dirt trails. It seems like American democracy and capitalism has reached the furthest ends of this globe. Upon closer inspection, if you glance past the fancy marketing labels, it makes you wonder if people see it as tangible evidence supporting the prosperity of democracy and capitalism.
The push for democracy is loud, albeit there are more suitable manners than a full scale riot. But the riot wasn’t just about a change of government. Apparently the Tongan rioters didn’t want to emulate America in all aspects, especially the idea of capitalism. Foreign businesses were targeted as well, mainly the Chinese community.
Here, we have to go into more history that involves the Tongan government, much of which I cannot get into if I still want to keep my job as a volunteer. Let’s just say that the Chinese community established numerous stores and through shrewd business ventures, became identified in Tonga as the place to shop for their cheap prices and consequently, their even cheaper quality products.
The abhorrence of foreign business by a select few was apparent when foreign shopkeepers were dragged out of their stores and beat during the riot. The effects of that are now shown as hundreds of Chinese stand crowded about the embassy, desperately waiting for the next available international flight. Currently, all international flights are closed. Even in the outer islands, the Chinese stores were robbed, which is a much more dangerous situation here because some people live in their ‘stores’.
That led me to wonder about the grim reality of the situation. My jog yesterday was down an ideal road towards my old home stay. For miles, I had run into familiar and even unfamiliar people who greeted me with friendly smiles and waves. Now that the jog is over, I’m left wondering what happens if I (or someone I know) strays from the ideal situation and comes across the same blatant racism. Where will it lead us then?
It’s funny in a sad kind of way on how certain people react to a different skin tone or to some other minor racial feature such as squinty eyes. So far my encounters have been that if I help people out, people assume I’m Japanese. If I don’t help people out, I’m assumed to be Chinese. Every other Asian race is sadly nonexistent in many of the people’s minds here.
My computer center is doing quite well. Now what if it does too well? Do I fall under the same fate as the foreign businesses? If they find out that my computer center is the place to go for their technological needs, does that endanger me in any way? If there’s an angry anti-Chinese mob, will they care that we're operating at just enough to keep the place running or that I'm only here to help Tongan owned businesses? Will they care that I’m actually an American carrying a Peace Corps identification card or a California driver’s license?
I doubt any of it would make a difference and I doubt I can explain who I am to an angry mob if they so happened to look for me. Explaining to them probably wouldn’t do me much good anyways because they’d probably be heavily intoxicated. Even when sober, certain people here can’t differentiate between a Korean and Japanese; much less grasp the concept of what a Chinese-American is.
Whatever happens, I’m willing to take that kind of risk to help dispel a bit of the racism, as seems to be the general mindset of all the volunteers here. I just hope my friends are ok, especially the ones in the larger cities.
I feel safe in Ha’apai, where the community is just small enough for people to know who I am and what I do. For the other volunteers that were placed in the city, they’re the ones who will have to endure the majority of the racism. Nuku’alofa is just big enough so that the majority of the host country nationals don’t know who you are or what you’re doing there. It takes guts and courage to be a volunteer in Nuku’alofa at a time like now.
Monday, November 13, 2006
I just finished writing the rough draft script for my first episode! This’ll be fun!!!
Oh yeah, Ding!!! Level 22, err I mean I’m 22 years old now! Thanks everyone! <3 to all!
Sunday, November 12, 2006
The weather’s getting hotter so I’ve made more frequent visits to the beach. The snorkeling here is beautiful.
Saturday, November 4, 2006
The Seat less Wonder + Refrigerator High + Ice Cream Medic
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Duct Tape. If you've ever watched Star Wars, you might make the far off connection that duct tape has a few similarities with the 'Force'; they both have a light side, a dark side, and they both hold the world together.
Ok, maybe duct tape can't hold the fabric of the space-time continuum together as well as the 'Force', but it was an essential tool in solving the "Seatless Wonder". The "Seatless Wonder" is another Peace Corps volunteer's bike that I had brought down to Ha'apai.
Like its name implies, it has no seat. There's only a dangerous metallic stump where the seat should be attached. Since we had no wrenches to remove the stump, it only served as a shining warning to any rider that it was quite capable of tearing a new @-hole to anyone who dared sit down.
We never bothered to solve the problem until now, mainly because of our innate laziness and now only out of necessity; another volunteer and I needed a means of transportation to Sandy Beach, the only 'palangi' beach nearby. We had two bikes, one fully operational and the other being the 'Seatless Wonder'. We were too cheap to pay for a taxi and too lazy to run so we had to fix
the 'Seatless Wonder' with the only other wonder we had at hand, the wonder of duct tape.
To form the new seat, I used leftover pieces of cardboard (from when I was making my Optimus Prime Halloween costume), the soft packaging that Nathan used to protect the CD's he sent over, a soft sandal that we found lying on the street, and the bubble wrap package (that a Tongatapu volunteer used to send me a can opener).
This was all combined and held together with enormous quantities of duct tape. I wish I could say that the project was a complete success. However, it was not. I realized this as soon as the bike went bumping into potholes after potholes. At that moment, I realized how I was going to die. It wouldn't be some random coconut that would fall on my head, or some tsunami that appears too quickly before I'd be able to follow the expert advice of my Safety and Security Officer to "climb a coconut tree."
No, my cause of death would be some form of internal bleeding. There were simply not enough cushions for the bumpy dirt roads of a developing country. My design was flawed in more ways than one though. The seat had been moved up a bit so as to be slightly awkward and very
uncomfortable.
It was as if I were riding a bicycle that was comically small, like one of the clowns performing their act with the traveling circus. The rider's knees are bent and arched slightly outwards. Each pedal works enough strange muscles that it finally makes you wonder if the bicycle is really causing more effort than simply walking.
We finally scrapped the plans to go to Sandy Beach because of our flawed engineering. Instead, we bought ice cream, got light-headed off the vapors of a now broken refrigerator, and made quesadillas.
Note: Do not clear the frozen ice in a refrigerator with a machete. We accidentally destroyed a pipe filled with coolant, which released a vapor that made us instantly light-headed.
Duct Tape. If you've ever watched Star Wars, you might make the far off connection that duct tape has a few similarities with the 'Force'; they both have a light side, a dark side, and they both hold the world together.
Ok, maybe duct tape can't hold the fabric of the space-time continuum together as well as the 'Force', but it was an essential tool in solving the "Seatless Wonder". The "Seatless Wonder" is another Peace Corps volunteer's bike that I had brought down to Ha'apai.
Like its name implies, it has no seat. There's only a dangerous metallic stump where the seat should be attached. Since we had no wrenches to remove the stump, it only served as a shining warning to any rider that it was quite capable of tearing a new @-hole to anyone who dared sit down.
We never bothered to solve the problem until now, mainly because of our innate laziness and now only out of necessity; another volunteer and I needed a means of transportation to Sandy Beach, the only 'palangi' beach nearby. We had two bikes, one fully operational and the other being the 'Seatless Wonder'. We were too cheap to pay for a taxi and too lazy to run so we had to fix
the 'Seatless Wonder' with the only other wonder we had at hand, the wonder of duct tape.
To form the new seat, I used leftover pieces of cardboard (from when I was making my Optimus Prime Halloween costume), the soft packaging that Nathan used to protect the CD's he sent over, a soft sandal that we found lying on the street, and the bubble wrap package (that a Tongatapu volunteer used to send me a can opener).
This was all combined and held together with enormous quantities of duct tape. I wish I could say that the project was a complete success. However, it was not. I realized this as soon as the bike went bumping into potholes after potholes. At that moment, I realized how I was going to die. It wouldn't be some random coconut that would fall on my head, or some tsunami that appears too quickly before I'd be able to follow the expert advice of my Safety and Security Officer to "climb a coconut tree."
No, my cause of death would be some form of internal bleeding. There were simply not enough cushions for the bumpy dirt roads of a developing country. My design was flawed in more ways than one though. The seat had been moved up a bit so as to be slightly awkward and very
uncomfortable.
It was as if I were riding a bicycle that was comically small, like one of the clowns performing their act with the traveling circus. The rider's knees are bent and arched slightly outwards. Each pedal works enough strange muscles that it finally makes you wonder if the bicycle is really causing more effort than simply walking.
We finally scrapped the plans to go to Sandy Beach because of our flawed engineering. Instead, we bought ice cream, got light-headed off the vapors of a now broken refrigerator, and made quesadillas.
Note: Do not clear the frozen ice in a refrigerator with a machete. We accidentally destroyed a pipe filled with coolant, which released a vapor that made us instantly light-headed.
Thursday, November 2, 2006
Packages
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Good day.
I walked up to the post office for about the 6th time in the last two weeks. The post office employees were probably sick of seeing me so frequently. Today was the day that my package would come; I could feel it in the air! Jim, however, wasn't quite as optimistic about the Tongan mail system. Well, he did have a valid point since I had been hopelessly optimistic for the past week to no avail.
The mail system in Ha'apai seems to be even more faulty than in the rest of Tonga. Our mail comes once a week on the boat, and the last time the boat arrived, the mail wasn't retrieved. I questioned one of the locals, who replied in a surprisingly casual manner. "Oh yeah, no mail.
The guy who was supposed to get the mail was asleep. You might want to try next week."
Umm... ok
My parents had informed me about a package that they sent a while ago. For those that don't know, packages and mail in the Peace Corps are priceless to volunteers.
Here, in some weird way, it means a bit more when it comes to receiving things. Maybe it's because we have so much more time to go back through letters and reread them. Maybe it's because of how long it actually takes to send and receive items. Maybe it's because the material possessions that we are accustomed to are so hard to get here. Or maybe it's the knowledge that you're not just a four-hour drive away on the 5 from the place you grew up.
Whatever the reason, my eyes gleamed with renewed vigor when I saw that there was a fresh pile of boxes and mail. The pile wasn't very impressive by any standards; it was just a disheveled stack of maybe 50 envelopes and 4 boxes lying on the table, but it was a bright ray of hope for me.
My heart started to race as I asked the now familiar Tongan sitting at the front counter if there were any packages for the Peace Corps volunteers. She waited a few seconds before giving me a reply (or before doing anything for that matter). It seemed as if she was relishing every
moment that I was waiting in anticipation. Then she said a quick "No, sorry, maybe next time".
Darn. I turned around and started to leave, but then I remembered how 'specific' you have to be when asking Tongans anything. I reworded the question and asked if I had any mail (instead of
packages). Before she even so much as glances at the pile of letters, she says "Oh yes you do!"
Argh, she was one step away from letting me leave the post office, all the while knowing that I had mail!
She rummaged through the mail and took out a few pieces of mail. In turn I thanked her and headed back to the Peace Corps office, expecting the inevitable "I told you so" reply from Jim about the expected package. Before I could step out the door again, she quickly exclaimed... "Oh wait, Jim has a box." The post office didn't have my package, but they had one for Jim! Gee, what an ideal opportunity for him to rub it in.
I went back to the office to let Jim know that he had a package waiting for him. When I got there, the phone rang. He answered it and left the room for a moment. I wasn't sure if he was joking, but he walked in, and said that the lady from the post office called. The message was that I did have a box! WTF?! I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Oh well, this is Tonga after all and I had nothing better to do than to make another trip...
So I went in again to the post office really hoping that they had something else for me, more so now so that I didn't give the false impression that I was a crazy guy who keeps coming back for mail that never arrives. Low and behold, I didn't have a package, I didn't have mail, but instead I had a 'parcel'. Lesson learned; be particularly careful with wording
questions in Tonga...
This package... err, parcel, had 'Family Guy' episodes, lots of movies that my family and I used to watch, a couple of language books (so I could try to pick up a bit of Mandarin), a 230 Gigabyte hard drive (larger than all the hard drives in my computer center put together), and some cooking spices.
I had asked for my family to send me the DVD box of 'Family Guy' that we had lying around, although it was scattered about the house and would probably require the use of a shovel and treasure map to recover. My cousin went above and beyond my request; she downloaded the entire series and put it on the hard drive!! Woot! Thanks to everyone, especially Dora =)
Good day.
I walked up to the post office for about the 6th time in the last two weeks. The post office employees were probably sick of seeing me so frequently. Today was the day that my package would come; I could feel it in the air! Jim, however, wasn't quite as optimistic about the Tongan mail system. Well, he did have a valid point since I had been hopelessly optimistic for the past week to no avail.
The mail system in Ha'apai seems to be even more faulty than in the rest of Tonga. Our mail comes once a week on the boat, and the last time the boat arrived, the mail wasn't retrieved. I questioned one of the locals, who replied in a surprisingly casual manner. "Oh yeah, no mail.
The guy who was supposed to get the mail was asleep. You might want to try next week."
Umm... ok
My parents had informed me about a package that they sent a while ago. For those that don't know, packages and mail in the Peace Corps are priceless to volunteers.
Here, in some weird way, it means a bit more when it comes to receiving things. Maybe it's because we have so much more time to go back through letters and reread them. Maybe it's because of how long it actually takes to send and receive items. Maybe it's because the material possessions that we are accustomed to are so hard to get here. Or maybe it's the knowledge that you're not just a four-hour drive away on the 5 from the place you grew up.
Whatever the reason, my eyes gleamed with renewed vigor when I saw that there was a fresh pile of boxes and mail. The pile wasn't very impressive by any standards; it was just a disheveled stack of maybe 50 envelopes and 4 boxes lying on the table, but it was a bright ray of hope for me.
My heart started to race as I asked the now familiar Tongan sitting at the front counter if there were any packages for the Peace Corps volunteers. She waited a few seconds before giving me a reply (or before doing anything for that matter). It seemed as if she was relishing every
moment that I was waiting in anticipation. Then she said a quick "No, sorry, maybe next time".
Darn. I turned around and started to leave, but then I remembered how 'specific' you have to be when asking Tongans anything. I reworded the question and asked if I had any mail (instead of
packages). Before she even so much as glances at the pile of letters, she says "Oh yes you do!"
Argh, she was one step away from letting me leave the post office, all the while knowing that I had mail!
She rummaged through the mail and took out a few pieces of mail. In turn I thanked her and headed back to the Peace Corps office, expecting the inevitable "I told you so" reply from Jim about the expected package. Before I could step out the door again, she quickly exclaimed... "Oh wait, Jim has a box." The post office didn't have my package, but they had one for Jim! Gee, what an ideal opportunity for him to rub it in.
I went back to the office to let Jim know that he had a package waiting for him. When I got there, the phone rang. He answered it and left the room for a moment. I wasn't sure if he was joking, but he walked in, and said that the lady from the post office called. The message was that I did have a box! WTF?! I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Oh well, this is Tonga after all and I had nothing better to do than to make another trip...
So I went in again to the post office really hoping that they had something else for me, more so now so that I didn't give the false impression that I was a crazy guy who keeps coming back for mail that never arrives. Low and behold, I didn't have a package, I didn't have mail, but instead I had a 'parcel'. Lesson learned; be particularly careful with wording
questions in Tonga...
This package... err, parcel, had 'Family Guy' episodes, lots of movies that my family and I used to watch, a couple of language books (so I could try to pick up a bit of Mandarin), a 230 Gigabyte hard drive (larger than all the hard drives in my computer center put together), and some cooking spices.
I had asked for my family to send me the DVD box of 'Family Guy' that we had lying around, although it was scattered about the house and would probably require the use of a shovel and treasure map to recover. My cousin went above and beyond my request; she downloaded the entire series and put it on the hard drive!! Woot! Thanks to everyone, especially Dora =)
Wednesday, November 1, 2006
Happy Halloween
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The van traveled a few more meters, and then came to an abrupt halt. I couldn't quite make out the exact details on the driver's face because it was the middle of the night. However, the contorted facial features of the driver revealed either a hint of hysteria or the expression of someone trying desperately to hold in their laughter.
Whichever it was, I couldn't blame her reaction. Imagine being in a developing country where pigs roam the streets freely, a place so conservative that religion dominates Sunday life, a place where the majority of the population have probably never stepped foot outside their island, and where the concept of Halloween is unbeknownst.
Then imagine seeing a masked cowboy with a pair of fake six shooters belted at the hip, a cardboard robot barely held together with duct tape, a molikau with pipe cleaner legs and a wicked stinger, plus an intimidating eye-patched pirate walking alongside one another in the middle of the island's main road.
We must have been quite the sight because not only did the vehicle stop; it literally peeled back in reverse for a closer inspection! There went the possibility of hysteria gripping the driver and her passengers.
They came back and we saw some very amused, yet confused faces. Our molikau representative stepped up and explained to them that it was Halloween. I'm not sure if the Tongans fully comprehended Halloween, but they all nodded in agreement that it looked fun, if not slightly
insane.
Afternote: Halloween was a blast!! The Ha'apai volunteers kick ass. Some of the pictures that we got are priceless. I try to explain everything with words, but this is one of those moments where I don't think any words would do it justice.
Needless to say, Optimus Prime is now my new roommate. Who else can say that they have the supreme commander of the Autobot forces living a room away from them?
The van traveled a few more meters, and then came to an abrupt halt. I couldn't quite make out the exact details on the driver's face because it was the middle of the night. However, the contorted facial features of the driver revealed either a hint of hysteria or the expression of someone trying desperately to hold in their laughter.
Whichever it was, I couldn't blame her reaction. Imagine being in a developing country where pigs roam the streets freely, a place so conservative that religion dominates Sunday life, a place where the majority of the population have probably never stepped foot outside their island, and where the concept of Halloween is unbeknownst.
Then imagine seeing a masked cowboy with a pair of fake six shooters belted at the hip, a cardboard robot barely held together with duct tape, a molikau with pipe cleaner legs and a wicked stinger, plus an intimidating eye-patched pirate walking alongside one another in the middle of the island's main road.
We must have been quite the sight because not only did the vehicle stop; it literally peeled back in reverse for a closer inspection! There went the possibility of hysteria gripping the driver and her passengers.
They came back and we saw some very amused, yet confused faces. Our molikau representative stepped up and explained to them that it was Halloween. I'm not sure if the Tongans fully comprehended Halloween, but they all nodded in agreement that it looked fun, if not slightly
insane.
Afternote: Halloween was a blast!! The Ha'apai volunteers kick ass. Some of the pictures that we got are priceless. I try to explain everything with words, but this is one of those moments where I don't think any words would do it justice.
Needless to say, Optimus Prime is now my new roommate. Who else can say that they have the supreme commander of the Autobot forces living a room away from them?
Thursday, October 26, 2006
4:01 a.m.
Thursday, October 26, 2006 – 4:01 a.m.
It's 4 a.m. and although my opportunities to sleep has been both sparse and sporadic, I'm currently wide-awake. Approximately 30 minutes ago, I had the opportunity to repay the married Peace Corps volunteers that had helped me haul books and computers up two flights of stairs the night before.
(30 minutes ago)
Clunk Clunk Clunk!!! It was the sound of two empty oil drums rolling across hundreds of tiny rocks and pebbles in the middle of the night. No, let me restate that with a bit more emphasis on what actually occurred. It was the sound of two empty oil drums proudly declaring to the entire village of Pangai that they were in fact, two hollow oil drums rolling across hundreds of tiny rocks through the main street and boldly approaching the police and fire station.
Shadows were poking out of recently lit homes as Tongans started peeking out their windows to see who was stupid enough to create that much noise in that brief time of day when it was neither completely night nor morning.
It probably wasn't too shocking when they found their answer; it was two Peace Corps volunteers. It was two Peace Corps volunteers whose muscles ached from carrying the heavy 50-pound oil drums on their backs all the way from the wharf. It was one Peace Corps volunteer in particular, who learned that the empty oil drums weren't exactly empty per say.
With still a bit of sleep deficiency, the adrenaline beginning to wear off, and my hands soaked in some foul grease, I had decided that the oil drums needed to be moved off my back and transported with a bit more ease. While it wasn't our intention to disturb the entire village, we weren't exactly thrilled (or physically capable) of having to lug heavy oil drums for miles in our flip flops. After lugging them as far as we could, we finally decided to simply give swift kicks to the drums until we were at the police station. Once we arrived at the police station, we just decided to carry the barrels on our backs once again for the remainder of the trip to the Peace Corps office.
The oil drums will be used as trash cans on the outer island where the married Peace Corps volunteers currently live. It takes over 20 combined man hours of watching for the barrels, two trips by ship, carrying (and kicking) said barrels through a good portion of town, a taxi, and rolling the drums up a large hill before an outer island sees something as simple as a 'trash can'.
Peace Corps, it's definitely not a 9-5 job in Ha'apai. Over the last few days, my definition of 'a lot of sleep' has changed from 12 hours a day to a full 5 hours a day. I'll try to catch some naps while Windows and Linux is being installed onto the new computers.
As a side note, I went over to the business building and low and behold, there was no electricity in the computer room. For the time being, I'm running an extension cable from the far side of the building so I'm able to work on one computer at a time.
I bumped into my counterpart and asked him if he could turn on the electricity in that room. He nodded, but he gave me an incredulous look that said, "Great... first you want computers and now you're already asking for electricity? What am I going to do with you? How can I keep up with these weird demands?!" You Peace Corps volunteers sure are a strange lot...
It's 4 a.m. and although my opportunities to sleep has been both sparse and sporadic, I'm currently wide-awake. Approximately 30 minutes ago, I had the opportunity to repay the married Peace Corps volunteers that had helped me haul books and computers up two flights of stairs the night before.
(30 minutes ago)
Clunk Clunk Clunk!!! It was the sound of two empty oil drums rolling across hundreds of tiny rocks and pebbles in the middle of the night. No, let me restate that with a bit more emphasis on what actually occurred. It was the sound of two empty oil drums proudly declaring to the entire village of Pangai that they were in fact, two hollow oil drums rolling across hundreds of tiny rocks through the main street and boldly approaching the police and fire station.
Shadows were poking out of recently lit homes as Tongans started peeking out their windows to see who was stupid enough to create that much noise in that brief time of day when it was neither completely night nor morning.
It probably wasn't too shocking when they found their answer; it was two Peace Corps volunteers. It was two Peace Corps volunteers whose muscles ached from carrying the heavy 50-pound oil drums on their backs all the way from the wharf. It was one Peace Corps volunteer in particular, who learned that the empty oil drums weren't exactly empty per say.
With still a bit of sleep deficiency, the adrenaline beginning to wear off, and my hands soaked in some foul grease, I had decided that the oil drums needed to be moved off my back and transported with a bit more ease. While it wasn't our intention to disturb the entire village, we weren't exactly thrilled (or physically capable) of having to lug heavy oil drums for miles in our flip flops. After lugging them as far as we could, we finally decided to simply give swift kicks to the drums until we were at the police station. Once we arrived at the police station, we just decided to carry the barrels on our backs once again for the remainder of the trip to the Peace Corps office.
The oil drums will be used as trash cans on the outer island where the married Peace Corps volunteers currently live. It takes over 20 combined man hours of watching for the barrels, two trips by ship, carrying (and kicking) said barrels through a good portion of town, a taxi, and rolling the drums up a large hill before an outer island sees something as simple as a 'trash can'.
Peace Corps, it's definitely not a 9-5 job in Ha'apai. Over the last few days, my definition of 'a lot of sleep' has changed from 12 hours a day to a full 5 hours a day. I'll try to catch some naps while Windows and Linux is being installed onto the new computers.
As a side note, I went over to the business building and low and behold, there was no electricity in the computer room. For the time being, I'm running an extension cable from the far side of the building so I'm able to work on one computer at a time.
I bumped into my counterpart and asked him if he could turn on the electricity in that room. He nodded, but he gave me an incredulous look that said, "Great... first you want computers and now you're already asking for electricity? What am I going to do with you? How can I keep up with these weird demands?!" You Peace Corps volunteers sure are a strange lot...
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The application of brute force
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
It was 3 a.m.; roughly 10 Tongans and 4 Peace Corps volunteers stood huddled around 5 massive crates at the Ha'apai docks. The beam emitting from an LED flashlight shined directly onto the group's collective fears; the keys that we held in hand did not fit into the crate's burly lock. It was the only obstacle that prevented us from retrieving our cargo.
Unknown to us at the moment, in those crates were approximately 10,000 books, 37 refurbished desktops, 40 Cathode Ray Tube computer monitors, and the combined admirable efforts of countless individuals who donated their time and material possessions to people they've never met.
Although the cargo had made the trip of over a thousand miles to some of the most untouched parts of the world, we still had to complete the final step of getting everything into the third floor of the business building before vandals or rain could ruin the contents inside. We all momentarily looked at the sky, hoping that Tonga's fickle weather would play nice.
I pondered the predicament. The reinforced steel lock could have been considered one of the finest crafted devices 1000 years ago. On the exterior, a logo of the manufacture had been delicately etched into a thin layer of brass before being encased in hardened steel. In the interior, chamber after chamber of tiny pins determined the current state of the lock. Given only a few ounces of pressure at specific internal locations and we would have been allowed access to the contents of the crates. We momentarily tried bashing the lock from the outside using hand sized rocks, but each attempt only lowered the groups' hopes.
I looked around at the rest of the volunteers. I image we all wore a sort of weary resignation; a look that was half the result of sleep deprivation and half the effect of looking into a high quality deadlock that wouldn't give. I could no longer feel the effects of the coffee that we drank a few hours past and I was just moments away from calling it a night.
Thud!!! The Tongans were reluctant to give up and were already improvising. We turned around just in time to see another clash between technology and primitive raw energy. This time the primitive raw energy came in the shape of a lead pipe that smashed against the lock to no avail. After a few minutes, the Tongans agreed that the lead pipe was virtually useless. However, the Tongans didn't skip a beat before their next plan was hatched.
Another Tongan had run off a few feet to grab a jagged rock weighing in at least 15lbs. I liked their thinking; if smashing something with a rock was ineffective, that means your rock was too small. This specific rock, a crude instrument probably used well over 1000 years ago, still proved to be very effective. With just three strikes, the primitive rock had successfully bypassed the different layers of complex chambers and pins built within the lock. In a final loud clank, the lock released its firm grasp, and hung loosely in defeat.
Over the course of the next few hours, we moved the contents of all the crates up to the third floor (which with our luck happened to be the highest point in Pangai). We had waited there all night and a couple of hours in the morning for the boat. By the time we were finished unpacking, it was 7 a.m and many of us had not slept for over 30 hours.
We all had a meeting scheduled at 10 a.m. and I had another meeting at noon with my supervisor (who just flew in from Nuku'alofa). I believe its karma making me work for all my lost hours in the last month. I have no complaints here; I'm glad I have something to do now.
Ironically enough, the same lock from the crate is still intact and now secures the iron-gate to the third floor of our building. If it weren't for the faint scratch on the surface, no one could even guess that it had a previous encounter with a lead pipe and a massive rock. Inevitably the security that the lock provides, like any sense of security, is only an illusion.
It was 3 a.m.; roughly 10 Tongans and 4 Peace Corps volunteers stood huddled around 5 massive crates at the Ha'apai docks. The beam emitting from an LED flashlight shined directly onto the group's collective fears; the keys that we held in hand did not fit into the crate's burly lock. It was the only obstacle that prevented us from retrieving our cargo.
Unknown to us at the moment, in those crates were approximately 10,000 books, 37 refurbished desktops, 40 Cathode Ray Tube computer monitors, and the combined admirable efforts of countless individuals who donated their time and material possessions to people they've never met.
Although the cargo had made the trip of over a thousand miles to some of the most untouched parts of the world, we still had to complete the final step of getting everything into the third floor of the business building before vandals or rain could ruin the contents inside. We all momentarily looked at the sky, hoping that Tonga's fickle weather would play nice.
I pondered the predicament. The reinforced steel lock could have been considered one of the finest crafted devices 1000 years ago. On the exterior, a logo of the manufacture had been delicately etched into a thin layer of brass before being encased in hardened steel. In the interior, chamber after chamber of tiny pins determined the current state of the lock. Given only a few ounces of pressure at specific internal locations and we would have been allowed access to the contents of the crates. We momentarily tried bashing the lock from the outside using hand sized rocks, but each attempt only lowered the groups' hopes.
I looked around at the rest of the volunteers. I image we all wore a sort of weary resignation; a look that was half the result of sleep deprivation and half the effect of looking into a high quality deadlock that wouldn't give. I could no longer feel the effects of the coffee that we drank a few hours past and I was just moments away from calling it a night.
Thud!!! The Tongans were reluctant to give up and were already improvising. We turned around just in time to see another clash between technology and primitive raw energy. This time the primitive raw energy came in the shape of a lead pipe that smashed against the lock to no avail. After a few minutes, the Tongans agreed that the lead pipe was virtually useless. However, the Tongans didn't skip a beat before their next plan was hatched.
Another Tongan had run off a few feet to grab a jagged rock weighing in at least 15lbs. I liked their thinking; if smashing something with a rock was ineffective, that means your rock was too small. This specific rock, a crude instrument probably used well over 1000 years ago, still proved to be very effective. With just three strikes, the primitive rock had successfully bypassed the different layers of complex chambers and pins built within the lock. In a final loud clank, the lock released its firm grasp, and hung loosely in defeat.
Over the course of the next few hours, we moved the contents of all the crates up to the third floor (which with our luck happened to be the highest point in Pangai). We had waited there all night and a couple of hours in the morning for the boat. By the time we were finished unpacking, it was 7 a.m and many of us had not slept for over 30 hours.
We all had a meeting scheduled at 10 a.m. and I had another meeting at noon with my supervisor (who just flew in from Nuku'alofa). I believe its karma making me work for all my lost hours in the last month. I have no complaints here; I'm glad I have something to do now.
Ironically enough, the same lock from the crate is still intact and now secures the iron-gate to the third floor of our building. If it weren't for the faint scratch on the surface, no one could even guess that it had a previous encounter with a lead pipe and a massive rock. Inevitably the security that the lock provides, like any sense of security, is only an illusion.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Homesick Dreams
The last few days I had these reoccurring dreams. They always take place back in Reedley; this time I’m standing in the front yard just before one of my routine midnight runs. There’s hardly a soul outside and the towns already asleep. It’s the way I prefer it.
The cold night sends chills across my body. Even though it’s only a dream, I have the uncanny knowledge that I’m really half ways across the world. I know that I’m not in Reedley anymore and the childhood scene suddenly reminds me of what I miss.
I start getting homesick in my sleep. I miss being able to see the town at midnight. Who would’ve thought that simple lampposts were so important? I miss the simple freedom of being able to run without a shirt on. I miss running on the solid foundations of blacktop and cement. I miss the midnight breeze on my face when I’m jogging. The weather starts to numb the digits of my fingers and I remind myself that I need to get moving to stay warm.
The iPod that’s strapped to my right arm starts to come alive with music. I stretch a little, although I’m not accustomed to it. I only remember that my little brother keeps telling me to stretch whenever we run together. I smile slightly as I think about our shared sense of cynical humor… maybe that’s why we get along so well… I wonder how he’s doing in his classes…
I brush the thought off and change the track to a more upbeat song just before I begin running. It’s so simple; just place one foot in front of the other. It clears my mind up. I turn around the familiar street corner and soon find myself in front of the streetlight. The light is red and the road lays barren. I wait anyways and secretly catch my breath, using the light as an excuse. The first steps are always the toughest.
The light flashes green and the real run starts. Soon I jog by some familiar houses… I take a quick glance at a friend’s house that I went to for a memorable Fourth of July. So many years ago... I wonder why I didn’t keep in contact with her. I let that thought slip just as quickly as it appeared.
As my body starts to get tired, the endorphins are slowly released and they begin compensating for my lack of strength. Before long I find myself running by my old high school. Breathing is no longer difficult and I find my pace.
And then this sense of urgency snaps in me. I’m in a hurry and I don’t know where I’m going. I’m panicked and confused, yet the setting looks exactly the same. Nothing’s changed… but the world feels slightly different. I wake up filled with questions. I’m left wondering where am I? Where am I going? And what’s the hurry?
The cold night sends chills across my body. Even though it’s only a dream, I have the uncanny knowledge that I’m really half ways across the world. I know that I’m not in Reedley anymore and the childhood scene suddenly reminds me of what I miss.
I start getting homesick in my sleep. I miss being able to see the town at midnight. Who would’ve thought that simple lampposts were so important? I miss the simple freedom of being able to run without a shirt on. I miss running on the solid foundations of blacktop and cement. I miss the midnight breeze on my face when I’m jogging. The weather starts to numb the digits of my fingers and I remind myself that I need to get moving to stay warm.
The iPod that’s strapped to my right arm starts to come alive with music. I stretch a little, although I’m not accustomed to it. I only remember that my little brother keeps telling me to stretch whenever we run together. I smile slightly as I think about our shared sense of cynical humor… maybe that’s why we get along so well… I wonder how he’s doing in his classes…
I brush the thought off and change the track to a more upbeat song just before I begin running. It’s so simple; just place one foot in front of the other. It clears my mind up. I turn around the familiar street corner and soon find myself in front of the streetlight. The light is red and the road lays barren. I wait anyways and secretly catch my breath, using the light as an excuse. The first steps are always the toughest.
The light flashes green and the real run starts. Soon I jog by some familiar houses… I take a quick glance at a friend’s house that I went to for a memorable Fourth of July. So many years ago... I wonder why I didn’t keep in contact with her. I let that thought slip just as quickly as it appeared.
As my body starts to get tired, the endorphins are slowly released and they begin compensating for my lack of strength. Before long I find myself running by my old high school. Breathing is no longer difficult and I find my pace.
And then this sense of urgency snaps in me. I’m in a hurry and I don’t know where I’m going. I’m panicked and confused, yet the setting looks exactly the same. Nothing’s changed… but the world feels slightly different. I wake up filled with questions. I’m left wondering where am I? Where am I going? And what’s the hurry?
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Moved in to Ha'apai
We went to the King's funeral a couple days ago. We have to wear black for a month and for some strange reason, I get thirsty when I look at so much black. Hmm... there's probably some screws loose in my head.
Yesterday I moved to Ha'apai, that is, if you can count dropping my backpack and guitar inside 'moving in'. The rest of my luggage should follow shortly on Friday. The plane ride over was delayed for 3 hours, which I hear seems to be fairly common. I had a chance to talk to some Aussies who also had their flight to Vava'u delayed.
Last night we had a feast at my counterpart's house. It was very yummy!
The computers that should have arrived at my site were accidentally shipped to Somoa. I guess I'll have to wait a week or two before they'll be here. Until then I should find some way to be productive. I found a book on lockpicking that I'll read up on in case I get locked out of my house.
This morning I started some coding and I'm working on a program to teach Tongan. I'm not sure how useful it'll be, but at least it'll keep me busy. I need my bags (with my microphone) to come here before I can start recording sound clips.
A friend back in the States just confirmed that he sent some programs over. I'll have some more compilers to play with, yay!!! I have a feeling I'll just be programming while I wait for the computers to come.
Yesterday I moved to Ha'apai, that is, if you can count dropping my backpack and guitar inside 'moving in'. The rest of my luggage should follow shortly on Friday. The plane ride over was delayed for 3 hours, which I hear seems to be fairly common. I had a chance to talk to some Aussies who also had their flight to Vava'u delayed.
Last night we had a feast at my counterpart's house. It was very yummy!
The computers that should have arrived at my site were accidentally shipped to Somoa. I guess I'll have to wait a week or two before they'll be here. Until then I should find some way to be productive. I found a book on lockpicking that I'll read up on in case I get locked out of my house.
This morning I started some coding and I'm working on a program to teach Tongan. I'm not sure how useful it'll be, but at least it'll keep me busy. I need my bags (with my microphone) to come here before I can start recording sound clips.
A friend back in the States just confirmed that he sent some programs over. I'll have some more compilers to play with, yay!!! I have a feeling I'll just be programming while I wait for the computers to come.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Officially a U.S. Peace Corps Volunteer!
Yay, Group 71 from the Kingdom of Tonga are now official Peace Corps volunteers! Woot us! We received a pin, a certificate, and our ID cards.
OPI
At the end of every Peace Corps training, volunteers have to take the OPI. I forget what the acronym stands for, but it's a test to determine whether you meet the necessary foreign language requirements. If you're unable to pass the OPI, you need to continue language classes and reach proficiency within a certain timeframe. Rumor has it that in certain posts, sometimes that option is unavailable and you get sent back home.
Today was the OPI and needless to say, it was slightly stressful. It's a one-on-one back and forth conversation with a Tongan instruction that's recorded on tape. There's nine different proficiencies broken down into three grading levels (Novice, Intermediate, and Advanced). The grading levels are then broken into three more scales for that level. For example, the Novice level is then broken down into Novice(Novice), Novice(Intermediate), and Novice(Advanced).
The minimum level to be officially qualified is the Novice(Advanced) level. After three months of training, no volunteers ever make the 'Advanced' scale. Usually volunteers fall within the Novice and Intermediate categories. I pretty much winged the test and all I know for now is that I’m somewhere in the Intermediate level; I'm happy with that.
There's an auction for used Peace Corps furniture (like used stoves/fridges) and it's being pushed back until Friday. At 4 p.m. today we’ll get a chance to see the funeral procession. I’ll try to get some decent pictures (only if its culturally appropriate).
Tomorrow is the big day when we will swear-in as Peace Corps volunteers.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Back in Sela's Guesthouse
We flew back to Nuka’lofa and moved back into Sela's guesthouse. We're rooming with other trainees and it's been a nice change of pace to be with all the trainees again for some ‘palangi’ time.
Two of the IT volunteers put in a lot of work into the slideshow for our swearing in. For those interested in it, send me an email with your address and I’ll send a couple of DVD’s over with all the pictures and video that we’ve captured. The group t-shirt designs are almost finished so if you want a ‘Peace Corps Tonga’ t-shirt with Group 71 in it, let me know as well.
Today we took our 'Emergency Action Plan' test. It tests our knowledge about safety and security in Tonga; it ranged in topics from the correct course of action in natural disasters down to ways to avoid theft. Tomorrow we’ll be tested on our language proficiency test, where we'll be ranked in our proficiency in the Tongan language.
Regardless of the results of the test, we’ll have to get a tutor for at least an hour a week to work on our Tongan. If we are under the Intermediate level, we need to get a tutor for at least two hours a week.
After tomorrow’s test we’ll have a silent auction to look forward to. We’ve been given our settling in allowance and we can use this sum to buy anything from burners to refrigerators. I plan to buy a used refrigerator at the auction and a fishing spear in the fishing store. The interesting part of this auction is that we don’t quite know what our furnishings are in our future homes since most haven’t seen their homes and we just have to make an educated guess.
The King passed away recently and his body is being flown in tomorrow. The country is already preparing by cleaning up the streets, everyone’s wearing black (for at least a month), and entertainment areas (movies, bars, clubs) are all closing for a month. This is definitely an interesting time to be in Tonga; I've never seen an entire economy shut down for such an extended period of time.
Due to this unfortunate event, our swearing in ceremony will have to be a bit low-key and the meeting with our host country counterparts will have to be delayed. I’ll stay around for a few more days after swearing in so I can see the funeral and maybe I’ll crash over at another volunteer’s house for a bit.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Three strikes and you're out!
In the Peace Corps, you usually get three strikes before you're shipped home. The first strike is for minor offenses and you only receive a verbal warning. The second strike is for more serious offenses; you're written up, and that goes into your file. For the third strike you're taken into serious consideration for removal out of the country. If the offenses are serious enough, you can jump from nothing on your record to a second or third strike (and thus consequently sent home).
Here's how a few of us from Group 71 bypassed our first written warning and almost got kicked out of the Peace Corps before even swearing in. When reading, here's some things to keep in mind for perspective:
1.) In Tonga, we quickly realized how large a role that weather plays in planning events. Last week the weather was raining off and on so we had to cancel our plans to visit the resort island of Pangai'motu. This Sunday we were lucky and the weather was just perfect. When the weather is right, you just go with it.
2.) To understand our thinking, I have to explain the cultural context of Sundays in Tonga. On Sundays, most Tongans go to Church (sometimes as often as 3 times in the day) and all shops (except for bakeries) are closed. It is so significant that it is officially illegal to work on these days; Sundays are designated specifically for spending time with family and relaxing.
3.) One of the Peace Corps policies that was heavily stressed was the importance of lifejackets; the reasoning is that the often fickle weather causes the sea to behave erratically, with sometimes dangerous results. The sea may be perfectly calm one second and within the span of a few minutes, a boat may capsize from the pounding seas. Another Peace Corps group had decided to ignore the policies, and thus consequently received their first (verbal) warning.
With that in mind, we approached the Peace Corps office on a beautiful Sunday morning. Normally our life vests are lying on an open table. The original plan was for us to talk to the on-site security guard, grab our vests, and catch our boat to the small island resort of Pangai'motu. To say the least, things did not go as planned.
When we arrived, the jackets were no where in sight and we searched in frantic desperation, hoping to catch the boat on time. We found them inside a locked storage room and asked the Peace Corps guard for permission to open the room. He nodded in agreement, but did not have a key.
We did not want to disturb the Peace Corps staff on a Sunday so we did what we've always done since arriving in the Kingdom of Tonga; be incredibly resourceful. Thanks to some quick thinking, a plastic credit card, and some deft fingers, we were walking out of the office with our life vests in a matter of minutes. The security guard made no effort to stop us and watched curiously as we 'did our thing'.
After returning from our mini-vacation, we found a Peace Corps vehicle waiting for us. The staff inside were not entirely happy with our actions. Now with perfect hindsight, I agree that what we did was not acceptable behavior! The official terminology is something akin to “breaking and entering into a federal building” and "stealing government property"; that's some hefty charges, especially when you're in a foreign developing country. However, to our credit, at the moment we didn’t see it in this particular light.
Always the optimist, we thought we were considerate in not disturbing anyone on a sacred Sunday, we were resourceful with what we had, we already signed out for the lifejackets (so we weren’t stealing), we didn’t damage anything, and we tried to follow policy by wearing our life jackets.
There was a rumor that we would have all been kicked out if there weren't so many of us (over half of Group 71). It seemed unlikely since it would seriously damage the Peace Corps' reputation if say half the volunteers promised to key government offices and NGOs suddenly disappeared just days before their start date. For a brief moment they tried to single out the person who finally broke in, but we stuck together saying they were arguing over semantics; it was only a matter of time before someone pried open a window or found another way in. In the end, we were all written up and went from a clean slate to one remaining warning before getting kicked out of the Kingdom of Tonga.
I feel awful about the incident and completely understand what we did wrong, but at the same time I'm already chuckling inside at the twisted humor of it all. Our next breach of policies might get us sent back to the States so don't be surprised if I'm back early.
P.S. Totally inappropriate, but someone should really consider investing in better locks...
Here's how a few of us from Group 71 bypassed our first written warning and almost got kicked out of the Peace Corps before even swearing in. When reading, here's some things to keep in mind for perspective:
1.) In Tonga, we quickly realized how large a role that weather plays in planning events. Last week the weather was raining off and on so we had to cancel our plans to visit the resort island of Pangai'motu. This Sunday we were lucky and the weather was just perfect. When the weather is right, you just go with it.
2.) To understand our thinking, I have to explain the cultural context of Sundays in Tonga. On Sundays, most Tongans go to Church (sometimes as often as 3 times in the day) and all shops (except for bakeries) are closed. It is so significant that it is officially illegal to work on these days; Sundays are designated specifically for spending time with family and relaxing.
3.) One of the Peace Corps policies that was heavily stressed was the importance of lifejackets; the reasoning is that the often fickle weather causes the sea to behave erratically, with sometimes dangerous results. The sea may be perfectly calm one second and within the span of a few minutes, a boat may capsize from the pounding seas. Another Peace Corps group had decided to ignore the policies, and thus consequently received their first (verbal) warning.
With that in mind, we approached the Peace Corps office on a beautiful Sunday morning. Normally our life vests are lying on an open table. The original plan was for us to talk to the on-site security guard, grab our vests, and catch our boat to the small island resort of Pangai'motu. To say the least, things did not go as planned.
When we arrived, the jackets were no where in sight and we searched in frantic desperation, hoping to catch the boat on time. We found them inside a locked storage room and asked the Peace Corps guard for permission to open the room. He nodded in agreement, but did not have a key.
We did not want to disturb the Peace Corps staff on a Sunday so we did what we've always done since arriving in the Kingdom of Tonga; be incredibly resourceful. Thanks to some quick thinking, a plastic credit card, and some deft fingers, we were walking out of the office with our life vests in a matter of minutes. The security guard made no effort to stop us and watched curiously as we 'did our thing'.
After returning from our mini-vacation, we found a Peace Corps vehicle waiting for us. The staff inside were not entirely happy with our actions. Now with perfect hindsight, I agree that what we did was not acceptable behavior! The official terminology is something akin to “breaking and entering into a federal building” and "stealing government property"; that's some hefty charges, especially when you're in a foreign developing country. However, to our credit, at the moment we didn’t see it in this particular light.
Always the optimist, we thought we were considerate in not disturbing anyone on a sacred Sunday, we were resourceful with what we had, we already signed out for the lifejackets (so we weren’t stealing), we didn’t damage anything, and we tried to follow policy by wearing our life jackets.
There was a rumor that we would have all been kicked out if there weren't so many of us (over half of Group 71). It seemed unlikely since it would seriously damage the Peace Corps' reputation if say half the volunteers promised to key government offices and NGOs suddenly disappeared just days before their start date. For a brief moment they tried to single out the person who finally broke in, but we stuck together saying they were arguing over semantics; it was only a matter of time before someone pried open a window or found another way in. In the end, we were all written up and went from a clean slate to one remaining warning before getting kicked out of the Kingdom of Tonga.
I feel awful about the incident and completely understand what we did wrong, but at the same time I'm already chuckling inside at the twisted humor of it all. Our next breach of policies might get us sent back to the States so don't be surprised if I'm back early.
P.S. Totally inappropriate, but someone should really consider investing in better locks...
A sad day in Tonga
The Tongan King Taufa'ahau Tupou IV passed away early this morning. Tonga is currently the only constitutional monarachy still in existence; this means that the king holds a heavy influence in government, yet there's also a level of aristocracy (nobles), elected officials, and people still have basic constitutional rights.
Tupoud IV was the king for the past 42 years and with his passing, politics will heavily shift. The last time a King passed away, businesses were shut down for 6 months (which is also the timeframe that everyone in Tonga needs to wear black clothes). Time to go shopping for a few more black shirts...
Tupoud IV was the king for the past 42 years and with his passing, politics will heavily shift. The last time a King passed away, businesses were shut down for 6 months (which is also the timeframe that everyone in Tonga needs to wear black clothes). Time to go shopping for a few more black shirts...
Sunday, September 3, 2006
Almost a volunteer!
Our homestays are officially over and we're currently on the way back to Nuku'alofa, the capital of Tonga. We're traveling aboard a really shaky and aerodynamically questionable plane. When I looked into the cockpit, I could almost swear that I saw certain pieces being held together by duct tape.
Before we left, we got our assignments listing where we'll be staying for the next two years. For my assignment I'll be setting up a computer center, teaching computer classes, and doing the IT work for the Ha'apai radio station. I'm the first Information Technology volunteer they're getting (and only) so I'm a bit nervous. I emailed a few friends to get some software and I got quite a few replies. (Thanks everyone!) Another volunteer had additional software which we happily dumped onto our hard drives. (I wish I had brought a larger hard drive!)
I'm really psyched to live with all the other volunteers in the same place for the next week. The guest house we're staying in has hot water for showers. Yesterday was the best shower I've had in months (From this point forward, I don't think I'll ever stop appreciating hot water showers). If all goes well, we'll swear in as official Peace Corps volunteers on September 14, 2006! Until then we gotta practice our war dance, work on a slide show, and pass the Tongan language proficiency test.
Before we left, we got our assignments listing where we'll be staying for the next two years. For my assignment I'll be setting up a computer center, teaching computer classes, and doing the IT work for the Ha'apai radio station. I'm the first Information Technology volunteer they're getting (and only) so I'm a bit nervous. I emailed a few friends to get some software and I got quite a few replies. (Thanks everyone!) Another volunteer had additional software which we happily dumped onto our hard drives. (I wish I had brought a larger hard drive!)
I'm really psyched to live with all the other volunteers in the same place for the next week. The guest house we're staying in has hot water for showers. Yesterday was the best shower I've had in months (From this point forward, I don't think I'll ever stop appreciating hot water showers). If all goes well, we'll swear in as official Peace Corps volunteers on September 14, 2006! Until then we gotta practice our war dance, work on a slide show, and pass the Tongan language proficiency test.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Placement Rumors
Cultural day is finally over! It is such a relief. It was one of those days that are great laughs for everyone, except for us trainees. We showed off our Tongan handicrafts, did our skits, and performed Tongan dances with our villages.
The day had started off fairly crappy. I had a high fever the night before, didn't get much sleep, and was really out of it by the morning. I took some medicine and within the hour I was good to go! I made ufi and showed my host family how to make sweet and sour chicken. They had no teriyaki sauce so I had to change my earlier plans. I also had to do a lot of improvising since they had no oil, stove, oven, or baking powder. The chicken ended up coming out like Chicken McNuggets, but still tasted pretty good.
After our culture day was over, our town had interviews with the Peace Corps placement officer. I had a fairly good hint as to where I’ll be stationed and what I would be doing. The project would be IT stuff at a new radio station (with rumors of possible airtime) and setting up / maintaining a new computer center.
I already have some pretty grand plans for the computer center. Supposedly in a few weeks (Tongan time can be much longer), shipments of some hand-me-down computers will arrive. Setting this up would be easy and I have some plans to teach the Microsoft suite of programs, basic computer setup / maintenance, and maybe even some computer science, depending on how advance the class is.
The difficult and time consuming part isn’t in simply completing the project; it’s about building sustainability by showing and explaining this to a Tongan counterpart. Depending on the types and the quantity of computers we get, I’m hoping to get the community together to play some network games. Can we say LAN Party with 40 computers?! I’ve started asking friends to send copies of old school games (that are not very graphically intensive) like Quake 3 arena, Starcraft, Warcraft 1 / 2, and a few educational programs like Photoshop, a compiler for C#, MySQL server, etc.
One of the biggest personal challenges will be adjusting to the location. I knew that after training, our group would be split up. I just didn’t expect to be located on an island with, at most, one other volunteer from my group. I'm trying to be optimistic; even though I really love this training group, I know there are great people everywhere and no matter where I go, I’ll end up meeting more. I do hope that I can visit the training group once every other month or every third month.
On Monday we’ll find out for sure where we’ll spend the next 2 years of our life. Next Saturday we’ll be back to the capital and I can pick up my guitar (thanks very much to my family). In three weeks, we’ll hopefully all be sworn in and become volunteers. It’s an exciting time. As much as I love training, I can’t wait until training is over so I can set my own schedule again. Now if only we didn’t have to pay the lofty prices for Internet here, everything would just be perfect.
What to do with computers on an island?
Lately I’ve been thinking about one of the challenges with computer centers in Tonga. Here’s my understanding of what usually happens; a Peace Corps volunteer comes into a village and sets up a computer center, the volunteer teaches them the Microsoft suite along with basic computer upkeep, then the volunteer’s two years are up and the computer center falls into decline. Nothing is maintained, electricity bills are not paid, and the center eventually shut downs.
The problem appears to be the motivation in up-keeping a computer center. Keeping a lot of computers running is often a painful task, even for the most hardcore computer admins. If I were in the villager’s shoes/flip flops and the only thing I had to look forward to with computers were Excel spreadsheets and Word documents, I’d be bored out of my mind.
Here’s my theory on how previous volunteers have introduced computers. They come in with the mindset that they can make the people in their village successful by giving them great skills to put on their resumes. At first, the community takes notice of the volunteer’s work because it’s new. When the novelty wears off, no lasting impression is made. How many people remember any presentation on word / access/ excel? How is it relevant to their lives when they're on a 5 mile island?
When volunteers introduce marketable skills, only the most committed people (those that are probably trying to get off the island) will fully explore the program. For the average Tongan in Ha'apai, why would you need a computer when there's only a handful of them on the whole island? There’s very little bait, just simply a lot of mean looking hooks. In my humble opinion, trying to sell the importance of being able to create formulas in Excel to people on a small island smells like a recipe for disaster. I'd like to try something slightly different; it may work or it may end up being worse, who knows?
Let me start off by asking how many computer gamers are in the Peace Corps? I don’t know statistically, but I’m sure there are very few just because of the conflicting environments. The people applying for the Peace Corps are ready to tough it out without electricity and live in a lean-in for their twenty-seven months whereas gamers are hard pressed to leave their computers and electricity. Peace Corps would be pretty far from the normal gamer’s thoughts.
So here’s one of the relatively few gamers in the Peace Corps (don’t ask how I got here). With that said, why not implement computer games to get the people’s interest? What better way to start off teaching typing than through Mavis Beacon’s car race?
My parents used to make me type at least half an hour on the program 'Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing' before I was allowed to go swimming in our pool or play video games. I thought it was fruitless at the time, but by the time I was in 3rd grade, I had logged enough hours on my 486 computer that I could easily type 40 words per minute. By 8th grade, I was typing at a rate of 80 words per minute with a near perfect accuracy rating. By combining the tedious with the rewards, it kept a fair balance between work and enjoyment.
As people's interest in gaming increases, people could even pay money to enter events like a gaming tournament where the winner receives a portion of the entrance fees and another portion could be used to pay for the upkeep of the computers. The list of ideas goes on and on and I have to say that I’m very psyched. Hell, even if the ideas fall through, I’ll still have a blast playing LAN games with fellow volunteers and the community here.
The problem appears to be the motivation in up-keeping a computer center. Keeping a lot of computers running is often a painful task, even for the most hardcore computer admins. If I were in the villager’s shoes/flip flops and the only thing I had to look forward to with computers were Excel spreadsheets and Word documents, I’d be bored out of my mind.
Here’s my theory on how previous volunteers have introduced computers. They come in with the mindset that they can make the people in their village successful by giving them great skills to put on their resumes. At first, the community takes notice of the volunteer’s work because it’s new. When the novelty wears off, no lasting impression is made. How many people remember any presentation on word / access/ excel? How is it relevant to their lives when they're on a 5 mile island?
When volunteers introduce marketable skills, only the most committed people (those that are probably trying to get off the island) will fully explore the program. For the average Tongan in Ha'apai, why would you need a computer when there's only a handful of them on the whole island? There’s very little bait, just simply a lot of mean looking hooks. In my humble opinion, trying to sell the importance of being able to create formulas in Excel to people on a small island smells like a recipe for disaster. I'd like to try something slightly different; it may work or it may end up being worse, who knows?
Let me start off by asking how many computer gamers are in the Peace Corps? I don’t know statistically, but I’m sure there are very few just because of the conflicting environments. The people applying for the Peace Corps are ready to tough it out without electricity and live in a lean-in for their twenty-seven months whereas gamers are hard pressed to leave their computers and electricity. Peace Corps would be pretty far from the normal gamer’s thoughts.
So here’s one of the relatively few gamers in the Peace Corps (don’t ask how I got here). With that said, why not implement computer games to get the people’s interest? What better way to start off teaching typing than through Mavis Beacon’s car race?
My parents used to make me type at least half an hour on the program 'Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing' before I was allowed to go swimming in our pool or play video games. I thought it was fruitless at the time, but by the time I was in 3rd grade, I had logged enough hours on my 486 computer that I could easily type 40 words per minute. By 8th grade, I was typing at a rate of 80 words per minute with a near perfect accuracy rating. By combining the tedious with the rewards, it kept a fair balance between work and enjoyment.
As people's interest in gaming increases, people could even pay money to enter events like a gaming tournament where the winner receives a portion of the entrance fees and another portion could be used to pay for the upkeep of the computers. The list of ideas goes on and on and I have to say that I’m very psyched. Hell, even if the ideas fall through, I’ll still have a blast playing LAN games with fellow volunteers and the community here.
Computer Specs!
I’m beginning to get some really neat ideas about what I would do with the volunteer position at the radio station and computer center. Well, the radio station has a pretty vague job description right now (although I can see it as a great way of advertising Peace Corps events), but the computer center seems to be a bit of free reign.
Yesterday I went to check out some of the computers at the Peace Corps office and quite frankly, they’re not too shabby. The computers that they were considering giving/ auctioning away were Pentium II 200 MHz, 128 MB of ram, and 2 gigabyte hard drives. While this isn't on the same level that most people are accustomed to in the States, it met my expectations for a developing country.
I heard from the more experienced volunteers that the new computers coming in would be a step ahead (though I don’t know how much of a step) of the current ones sitting in the PC office. I’m hoping they’re at least 400 MHz.
I want to see the reactions of the people who’ve never even seen the 8 bit graphics of a Nintendo when they start playing a Quake III Arena game against a roomful of their peers.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Community Days
The last few days have been fairly busy. All of the villages just finished their 'community days'. Most of the community day activities were just games, with ours being no exception. We had a dj for music, a dance, a faikava with a couple of doa’s (sp? – volunteers from the next village that helped serve kava), a 3 legged race, tug of war, water balloon tosses, duck-duck-goose, and the winners of each competition were awarded candy prizes.
The village next over did a community clean up with the youth, which turned out quite nicely. Our village did a community cleanup and it certainly is a lot of tough, manual labor. The people here sometimes joke that they’re lazy, but I disagree. They’re just tired after a long day’s work. For those that have worked menial, yet physically demanding jobs, they understand the difficulties of trying to accomplish anything, like studying, after 8 hours of work.
Our language classes have been switched up a bit; I guess the Peace Corps are trying to do something new. We’re now grouped under how quickly we’re learning the language. There’s been a bit of instruction overlap (because classes have been taught at different speeds), but overall it seems to be working out quite well. We’re all getting a lot of new vocabulary and picking up on the different ‘styles’ of spoken Tongan. The people in my new class are quite the comedians and although it sounds quite trite; I’m enjoying all of it immensely. I think the Peace Corps would be hard pressed to make a class out of this training group that isn’t fun to be around.
In one more week we’ll find out where we'll be placed. When asked about what I was hoping for, I asked for a place that I could get Internet at home. (I have my fingers crossed) There have been rumors going around about where certain volunteers will get placed and we’re doing quite a lot of speculating. So far it seems like the majority of people will get placed in the capital. In a way, I’m not sure if I’d like to be stationed there. Sure there are the luxuries of electricity, good food, the possibility of hot water, and it’s the main connection point to other islands, but it makes me wonder if its what I really envisioned when I signed up for the Peace Corps.
Oh well, the main factor in determining placement is based upon where our skills can be best used. We’ll see what happens! In a certain twisted kind of way, it’d be funny to be placed in a job that I was completely unqualified for, which is quite the possibility. Rumor has it that people will be placed in banks, schools, NGOs, and government offices.
Our cultural day is this Friday. I need to make something Tongan, teach my family how to make Teriyaki chicken, practice our group dance, and cook some good ole Tapioka before then! I’ll be sure to bring my camera. I can’t wait to put up some of the videos / pictures that I’ve taken (once I finally get stationed). There’s less than two weeks left in Haapai and then we’re back to the capital!
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Trip to an outer island
There’s a blackout right now so I’m typing using the laptop’s battery. Today’s been another one of those great days. We had a ‘business meeting’ on a fairly remote island with no electricity and only rudimentary plumbing. In other words, we had a meeting for an hour, then got the rest of the day to kick back with other volunteers.
We traveled there on a small Red Cross boat, which so happened to look like the rescue boat. A thought crossed my mind; if this is the rescue boat, what happens if we need to be rescued? I then decided it was better to just let that thought slide.
Before boarding the small boat, the driver mentioned that the capacity was 15 people. We told them we needed to fit 16 Peace Corps Volunteers. He laughed and said he was talking about the weight of Tongans; the boat could easily hold the weight of at least 20 of us 'palangis'. (Tongans weigh quite a bit more than us)
Despite the lack of modern day appliances, the natural beauty of the beaches more than made up for it. We played soccer, football, had a makeshift volleyball game, and went snorkeling to see clam communities. We also learned how to climb coconut trees (where my feet got torn up a bit – coconut trees scratch). All you need to survive on a desert island is a machete and plentiful coconuts.
At one point I was just sitting there wondering; how did I get this lucky? I get to meet lots of great new people and travel to some of the most beautiful places this world has to offer. I still can’t believe this is the Peace Corps!
Earlier Muli and I went to take a stroll around town with the lights out. It was a weird sight. The night is pitch black without any lighting, yet somehow some of the Tongans were still able to see me! Next week will be quite busy. I have my PAKA tools due (which I barely started), our community day activity, and a practice language test. I guess I’ll have to cut down on the beach time a little and concentrate more on language studying.
We traveled there on a small Red Cross boat, which so happened to look like the rescue boat. A thought crossed my mind; if this is the rescue boat, what happens if we need to be rescued? I then decided it was better to just let that thought slide.
Before boarding the small boat, the driver mentioned that the capacity was 15 people. We told them we needed to fit 16 Peace Corps Volunteers. He laughed and said he was talking about the weight of Tongans; the boat could easily hold the weight of at least 20 of us 'palangis'. (Tongans weigh quite a bit more than us)
Despite the lack of modern day appliances, the natural beauty of the beaches more than made up for it. We played soccer, football, had a makeshift volleyball game, and went snorkeling to see clam communities. We also learned how to climb coconut trees (where my feet got torn up a bit – coconut trees scratch). All you need to survive on a desert island is a machete and plentiful coconuts.
At one point I was just sitting there wondering; how did I get this lucky? I get to meet lots of great new people and travel to some of the most beautiful places this world has to offer. I still can’t believe this is the Peace Corps!
Earlier Muli and I went to take a stroll around town with the lights out. It was a weird sight. The night is pitch black without any lighting, yet somehow some of the Tongans were still able to see me! Next week will be quite busy. I have my PAKA tools due (which I barely started), our community day activity, and a practice language test. I guess I’ll have to cut down on the beach time a little and concentrate more on language studying.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Sunday Church
We just finished another dance lesson at one of the volunteer home stays. The trainees in our town are getting ready for cultural day (where we’ll do a group dance for the village). We have the first verse down and just learned the second. The volunteer dance instructors have been really nice, patient, and can bake some killer banana cakes.
It’s been a while since I’ve updated so here's what's happening.
I helped fixed the backyard fence of my home stay; it involved laying lines of barbed wire to keep the pigs enclosed. I also started lifting weights with another volunteer in town. Hopefully we’ll motivate each other to go and work out regularly. It gets a bit depressing sometimes because we're probably lifting at the same level as 14 year old Tongan girls...
Sunday church was interesting. I thought we were going for the usual hour, give or take a bit since we're on 'island time'. As soon as I donned my taovala (its a big woven mat that gets wrapped around the waist for formal occasions), I felt irritable bowel movements.
Mind over matter; "I can hold it for an hour; it’s not that bad." My family and I start walking to our normal church, but they continued walking. Muli tells me that today we’re not going to our church, but instead we're going to the next village's church. I tell myself that its still ok, I can handle walking a little extra! Mind over matter!
I forgot to bring my watch and I’m wondering how much time passed. I ask the Peace Corps volunteer sitting a couple seats away, but she just gives me a hopeless look and shrugs. More than an hour and a half passes by and it seems like the minister read the entire Bible twice, all the while accompanied with hymns in between each story.
I sighed with relief once church services were finally over. I couldn't wait to get home. I was in for another surprise though! We weren’t going straight home; we were instead ushered into the town hall for a village feast. It was great food, but it would’ve been better if I didn’t have to use the facilities! While we were eating, I’m told that it’s the only meal for the day so I better eat up.
Great… After Church and the feast finished, over a combined 3 and half hours passed. I'm thanking God that I didn’t shit my pants.
We bought some fishing wire / hook at the local store on Wednesday. A couple volunteers came to my town and we went fishing. Fishing in Tonga doesn't consist of using a pole or even a net this time around. We went old school by tying one end of the wire to a three pronged hook and the other end to an empty glass bottle. Since we couldn’t throw it out too far, we would take turns swimming out in the ocean to place our hook / bobber (a makeshift empty plastic bottle).
For bait we found Bob, this pretty giant creature that resided in a very tough shell. We tried to crack his home open with everything from coconuts, slabs of concrete, rock, and finally a pair of Leatherman’s pliers did the trick. To this day I still don’t know what Bob was. I just know he has a wicked hook, takes more than 2 hours to die after being gutted, and the fish don't find him the least bit appetizing.
After fishing, another volunteer and I bumped into a more ‘seasoned’ education volunteer that we met on Friday. She complained to her vice principle about kids turning in papers that had blatant plagiarism. The next day the vice principal talked to the veteran Peace Corps volunteer and asks for her help to correct a paper. The paper turned out to be someone else’s homework from another school!
On Wednesday we did an exercise where we had to write down our worst day and our best day. It took me a minute to think of my best day. It was one of those days (I think it was a Saturday) where I just woke up thinking “This is going to be a great day!” At the time, I had declined all my law school apps so I could try to get officially invited into the Peace Corps. Now that I look back, it was an impulsive move because if I didn’t get into the Peace Corps, I had a year and a half to kill before I could get into law school again. I'm glad it worked out though.
Anyways, back to the topic of the Best Day! That day I was nominated for the Peace Corps to serve in Tonga so I was pretty psyched. Work just flew by and I got to go home a bit earlier than normal. With my schedule, I didn’t work Sundays and Mondays so my weekend just started. A friend from high school invited me to a birthday party for his sister and I went to visit. There was a local band playing in his backyard and there were plenty of free / good beer.
Some of my friends that I knew since elementary, high school, and college were there. I bumped into a friend that I hadn’t seen in a few years and got to talk with her for a bit. It was just one of those days that was just perfect, though it just sounds fairly lame on paper.
Then when I got to thinking about the worst day… I couldn’t think of anything. I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t really think of any day where I was just like “Damn, this day is the worst day in my life”.
It’s been a while since I’ve updated so here's what's happening.
I helped fixed the backyard fence of my home stay; it involved laying lines of barbed wire to keep the pigs enclosed. I also started lifting weights with another volunteer in town. Hopefully we’ll motivate each other to go and work out regularly. It gets a bit depressing sometimes because we're probably lifting at the same level as 14 year old Tongan girls...
Sunday church was interesting. I thought we were going for the usual hour, give or take a bit since we're on 'island time'. As soon as I donned my taovala (its a big woven mat that gets wrapped around the waist for formal occasions), I felt irritable bowel movements.
Mind over matter; "I can hold it for an hour; it’s not that bad." My family and I start walking to our normal church, but they continued walking. Muli tells me that today we’re not going to our church, but instead we're going to the next village's church. I tell myself that its still ok, I can handle walking a little extra! Mind over matter!
I forgot to bring my watch and I’m wondering how much time passed. I ask the Peace Corps volunteer sitting a couple seats away, but she just gives me a hopeless look and shrugs. More than an hour and a half passes by and it seems like the minister read the entire Bible twice, all the while accompanied with hymns in between each story.
I sighed with relief once church services were finally over. I couldn't wait to get home. I was in for another surprise though! We weren’t going straight home; we were instead ushered into the town hall for a village feast. It was great food, but it would’ve been better if I didn’t have to use the facilities! While we were eating, I’m told that it’s the only meal for the day so I better eat up.
Great… After Church and the feast finished, over a combined 3 and half hours passed. I'm thanking God that I didn’t shit my pants.
We bought some fishing wire / hook at the local store on Wednesday. A couple volunteers came to my town and we went fishing. Fishing in Tonga doesn't consist of using a pole or even a net this time around. We went old school by tying one end of the wire to a three pronged hook and the other end to an empty glass bottle. Since we couldn’t throw it out too far, we would take turns swimming out in the ocean to place our hook / bobber (a makeshift empty plastic bottle).
For bait we found Bob, this pretty giant creature that resided in a very tough shell. We tried to crack his home open with everything from coconuts, slabs of concrete, rock, and finally a pair of Leatherman’s pliers did the trick. To this day I still don’t know what Bob was. I just know he has a wicked hook, takes more than 2 hours to die after being gutted, and the fish don't find him the least bit appetizing.
After fishing, another volunteer and I bumped into a more ‘seasoned’ education volunteer that we met on Friday. She complained to her vice principle about kids turning in papers that had blatant plagiarism. The next day the vice principal talked to the veteran Peace Corps volunteer and asks for her help to correct a paper. The paper turned out to be someone else’s homework from another school!
On Wednesday we did an exercise where we had to write down our worst day and our best day. It took me a minute to think of my best day. It was one of those days (I think it was a Saturday) where I just woke up thinking “This is going to be a great day!” At the time, I had declined all my law school apps so I could try to get officially invited into the Peace Corps. Now that I look back, it was an impulsive move because if I didn’t get into the Peace Corps, I had a year and a half to kill before I could get into law school again. I'm glad it worked out though.
Anyways, back to the topic of the Best Day! That day I was nominated for the Peace Corps to serve in Tonga so I was pretty psyched. Work just flew by and I got to go home a bit earlier than normal. With my schedule, I didn’t work Sundays and Mondays so my weekend just started. A friend from high school invited me to a birthday party for his sister and I went to visit. There was a local band playing in his backyard and there were plenty of free / good beer.
Some of my friends that I knew since elementary, high school, and college were there. I bumped into a friend that I hadn’t seen in a few years and got to talk with her for a bit. It was just one of those days that was just perfect, though it just sounds fairly lame on paper.
Then when I got to thinking about the worst day… I couldn’t think of anything. I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t really think of any day where I was just like “Damn, this day is the worst day in my life”.
Saturday, August 5, 2006
Palangi Night
Yesterday was one of the worst times to get sick (not that there's ever a 'good' time to get sick). We had a ‘palangi night’ where it was just Peace Corps volunteers and staff at the only bar on the island. It was the first time that we’ve touched alcohol since landing in Tonga so we’ve been alcohol deprived for 26 straight days (though whose really counting).
It seemed like the perfect formula for some good ole binge drinking. Even a headache, sore throat, and a congested nose couldn’t stop me from downing a few beers. Another one of the volunteers knew that I was sick so he brought me some Sudafed (thanks Adam, it helped). We were forewarned about the expensive price of beer there so I came prepared by bringing a few extra pa’anga (money) and coming on an empty stomach to feel a buzz faster.
One of the female volunteers came from a higher altitude place and was able to down beers without stopping; she finally stopped at 9 beers in the three-hour frame that we had. Anyways, it was just really neat to kick back with all the other volunteers / trainees in a non-academic setting and get to know them a bit better.
Thursday, August 3, 2006
Ikai Amelika
It’s another day of language training! We’ve fallen into a good routine. Monday through Fridays (except Wednesdays), we have language in the morning. On Wednesdays we cover business, medical, and safety/security training. Other than going to town to catch a rugby game and having some sweet and sour chicken at another one of the volunteer’s house, things have been pretty uneventful.
Funny things are still happening though! Before I left America I remember asking my older brother if he would mind if I brought along the DVD series ‘Firefly’, a TV science fiction that we both loved. He said sure so I popped it into my bags and didn’t think much about it. Now I made good use of it! I let the neighborhood kids watch ‘Firefly’ on my laptop. There were about 10 kids crowded around a small 15-inch screen with all of them attempting to make out the dialogue from the barely audible built-in speakers. I went inside for a moment to study a little and when I came back out, they were pointing at one of the scenes of a spaceport and saying “Amelika? (America?)”. For the next 10 minutes I had to explain that America did not have spaceships or spaceports with my horrible Tongan, which was pretty much pointing at the screen and saying “Ikai Amelika”.
Funny things are still happening though! Before I left America I remember asking my older brother if he would mind if I brought along the DVD series ‘Firefly’, a TV science fiction that we both loved. He said sure so I popped it into my bags and didn’t think much about it. Now I made good use of it! I let the neighborhood kids watch ‘Firefly’ on my laptop. There were about 10 kids crowded around a small 15-inch screen with all of them attempting to make out the dialogue from the barely audible built-in speakers. I went inside for a moment to study a little and when I came back out, they were pointing at one of the scenes of a spaceport and saying “Amelika? (America?)”. For the next 10 minutes I had to explain that America did not have spaceships or spaceports with my horrible Tongan, which was pretty much pointing at the screen and saying “Ikai Amelika”.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Fishing Tongan Style
Leki asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him. I happily agreed, naively thinking it resembled the American style of fishing that I had in mind. I pictured a quiet afternoon, sitting on a boat with my hat tipped slightly over my eyes, feet dangling over the edge, all the while popping the occasional beer (even though I’m not allowed to drink during training), and patiently waiting for the fish to bite.
I didn’t know he meant that he wanted to go fishing immediately, when it was raining heavily with strong gusts of wind thrown in for good measure. If that wasn't bad enough, we had to fish "Peace Corps Tongan style"! Fish and lure?… Boat?… what are you talking about?
Three hours later, I’m standing more than a mile away from any real land with my waist in the ocean. I have a cut on my left arm that’s just started bleeding and with who knows how many cuts on my legs from the very sharp coral seabed that ranges in height from ankle deep water to submerging me up to my chest. It’s so sharp that the Tongans I’m with, who usually don’t even wear shoes for the piercing land coral, are either wearing tennis shoes or fishing boots in the water. I’m thinking, “Hey, sharks are extremely attracted to blood. Not even a year ago another Peace Corps volunteer died from a shark attack here in Tonga. This isn't good.”
It wouldn’t be such a precarious position to be in if it weren’t for the fact that I was helping drag 50+ pounds of dead, yet very bloody fish in an open bag out in the middle of the ocean.
The method we were using to fish was quite simple, but highly effective. Some of us would set up a large net out on one side of the ocean while a bunch of others would be about half a football field away. Once we gave the signal, the people furthest away from the net would start moving closer while pounding the water and throwing starfishes / rocks to scare the fish. The fish would get caught up in the net and we would have dinner!
I didn’t know he meant that he wanted to go fishing immediately, when it was raining heavily with strong gusts of wind thrown in for good measure. If that wasn't bad enough, we had to fish "Peace Corps Tongan style"! Fish and lure?… Boat?… what are you talking about?
Three hours later, I’m standing more than a mile away from any real land with my waist in the ocean. I have a cut on my left arm that’s just started bleeding and with who knows how many cuts on my legs from the very sharp coral seabed that ranges in height from ankle deep water to submerging me up to my chest. It’s so sharp that the Tongans I’m with, who usually don’t even wear shoes for the piercing land coral, are either wearing tennis shoes or fishing boots in the water. I’m thinking, “Hey, sharks are extremely attracted to blood. Not even a year ago another Peace Corps volunteer died from a shark attack here in Tonga. This isn't good.”
It wouldn’t be such a precarious position to be in if it weren’t for the fact that I was helping drag 50+ pounds of dead, yet very bloody fish in an open bag out in the middle of the ocean.
The method we were using to fish was quite simple, but highly effective. Some of us would set up a large net out on one side of the ocean while a bunch of others would be about half a football field away. Once we gave the signal, the people furthest away from the net would start moving closer while pounding the water and throwing starfishes / rocks to scare the fish. The fish would get caught up in the net and we would have dinner!
Take me out to the Rugby game
Yesterday we had more language sessions. After class, my host father Leki picked me up from school to watch rugby and netball games. It’s interesting to watch because it’s a lot rougher than American football and the action is constant! By the end of the game, I was thoroughly confused on how to play rugby. I was surprised at how physically built the Tongans were (and the ones I saw were barely in their mid teens)!
One of the volunteers had told me that her host brother from Ha’atafu said that I was “the strongest palangi” out of our group. At Ha’atafu, most of the male volunteers went to the makeshift gym in town; it consisted of a burnt down building with a half broken bench and a pipe with weights used for curling. I had benched the most out of us palangis and had somehow won that title.
Anyways, when I came to Ha’apai, the people thought I was taha valu eni (18 years old, when I’m actually 21) because of how scrawny I was compared to them. I think maybe even Timi, whose only 15, is stronger than me.
So far today I had all this time to myself to update my blog, listen to some music, and show the neighborhood kids pictures of California. I took a few pictures of them and they jumped with joy every time they saw themselves.
One of the volunteers had told me that her host brother from Ha’atafu said that I was “the strongest palangi” out of our group. At Ha’atafu, most of the male volunteers went to the makeshift gym in town; it consisted of a burnt down building with a half broken bench and a pipe with weights used for curling. I had benched the most out of us palangis and had somehow won that title.
Anyways, when I came to Ha’apai, the people thought I was taha valu eni (18 years old, when I’m actually 21) because of how scrawny I was compared to them. I think maybe even Timi, whose only 15, is stronger than me.
So far today I had all this time to myself to update my blog, listen to some music, and show the neighborhood kids pictures of California. I took a few pictures of them and they jumped with joy every time they saw themselves.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Initial Ha'apai Stories
It’s been a while since I used my laptop since I didn't have an international converter. After doing some shopping around the stores, I’m finally charging it. The good news is that it hasn’t exploded... yet. I guess the cheap (3.50 pa’anga) step down transformer wasn’t such a bad buy after all.
The 8-hour boat trip from Tongatapu to Ha’api was fun, but pretty rough. Getting through the gates was a challenge in itself; God help anyone who falls down, especially if they’re small children. As soon as the gates open for boarding, a swarm of people beeline for the best seats on the cargo boat. In the shuffle someone had stolen one of the volunteers' digital camera. It was a good thing that I decided to lock up the zippers to my laptop.
Luckily two of the LCTF’s ran up ahead to the second story of the boat and placed down mats to claim the area as ours. Out of all the passengers, we probably had the most luxurious spot. The night was very cold and the winds were rough. Trying to find a comfortable area to sleep was a challenge in itself. I had a pretty comfortable spot, but then another volunteer took it after I went out for some fresh air. Oh well, I managed to climb onto some mattresses and sleep next to the wall.
We reached Ha’apai at around 3:00 a.m. Getting off the boat was another one of those surreal moments. I managed to stretch a bit, meet some of the volunteers stationed in Ha’apai (who happened to have some cookies prepared for us thx), climb onto the back of a long truck, and ride towards pitch blackness, all the while watching the lights slowly fading away. When I arrived, I was greeted by the mother Manusiu, the father Leki, the sisters Sela (3), Amelia(11), Saione (9), and the three brothers; Timi (15), Mahe (12), and Muli (16).
Here are a few funny stories that happened after the first day in Ha’api:
Someone had asked me if I was good with computers. I responded that I was reasonably proficient with them (my bachelors is in Computer Engineering). Since they saw that I had a laptop, they asked for some pictures from Washington of the Prince’s funeral. I told them that I needed the Internet to get those pictures. They weren’t sure what the Internet was and replied back that its okay that I wasn’t good with computers…
When I met up with my old roommate Jason, he told me another funny story. He went to the beach last night and picked up 5 shells. He lined them up in front of his window today and went to take a shower. After his shower, there were only 4 shells. He thought that maybe one of his host-family took one of them. He sat there for a few minutes wondering why someone would take shells from his room when they lived on an island with so many beaches / shells. He walked to the kitchen to get breakfast when he found his answer: one of the shells still had the crab inside and it was trying to get away!
Some of the other volunteers didn’t have so much luck with host families. One of the volunteers went to faikava (gathering where a bunch of male Tongans go drinking kava - a drink that tastes like dirty water/numbs the tongue). During faikava, his host family played a ‘practical joke’ on him by making him introduce himself to others in Tongan saying “Hello! You have big testicles”. He got a few punches thrown his way.
The 8-hour boat trip from Tongatapu to Ha’api was fun, but pretty rough. Getting through the gates was a challenge in itself; God help anyone who falls down, especially if they’re small children. As soon as the gates open for boarding, a swarm of people beeline for the best seats on the cargo boat. In the shuffle someone had stolen one of the volunteers' digital camera. It was a good thing that I decided to lock up the zippers to my laptop.
Luckily two of the LCTF’s ran up ahead to the second story of the boat and placed down mats to claim the area as ours. Out of all the passengers, we probably had the most luxurious spot. The night was very cold and the winds were rough. Trying to find a comfortable area to sleep was a challenge in itself. I had a pretty comfortable spot, but then another volunteer took it after I went out for some fresh air. Oh well, I managed to climb onto some mattresses and sleep next to the wall.
We reached Ha’apai at around 3:00 a.m. Getting off the boat was another one of those surreal moments. I managed to stretch a bit, meet some of the volunteers stationed in Ha’apai (who happened to have some cookies prepared for us thx), climb onto the back of a long truck, and ride towards pitch blackness, all the while watching the lights slowly fading away. When I arrived, I was greeted by the mother Manusiu, the father Leki, the sisters Sela (3), Amelia(11), Saione (9), and the three brothers; Timi (15), Mahe (12), and Muli (16).
Here are a few funny stories that happened after the first day in Ha’api:
Someone had asked me if I was good with computers. I responded that I was reasonably proficient with them (my bachelors is in Computer Engineering). Since they saw that I had a laptop, they asked for some pictures from Washington of the Prince’s funeral. I told them that I needed the Internet to get those pictures. They weren’t sure what the Internet was and replied back that its okay that I wasn’t good with computers…
When I met up with my old roommate Jason, he told me another funny story. He went to the beach last night and picked up 5 shells. He lined them up in front of his window today and went to take a shower. After his shower, there were only 4 shells. He thought that maybe one of his host-family took one of them. He sat there for a few minutes wondering why someone would take shells from his room when they lived on an island with so many beaches / shells. He walked to the kitchen to get breakfast when he found his answer: one of the shells still had the crab inside and it was trying to get away!
Some of the other volunteers didn’t have so much luck with host families. One of the volunteers went to faikava (gathering where a bunch of male Tongans go drinking kava - a drink that tastes like dirty water/numbs the tongue). During faikava, his host family played a ‘practical joke’ on him by making him introduce himself to others in Tongan saying “Hello! You have big testicles”. He got a few punches thrown his way.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Welcome to Ha'apai
Getting on a boat in a few hours, gonna be an 8 hour ride or so... Will meet a new host family to stay with for the next 5 weeks for more culture and language immersion. They call the islands Ha'apai; it's the most traditional Tonga. Sounds neat.
Friday, July 21, 2006
First two weeks
It's been a crazy first 2 weeks. The days are packed. For example, yesterday we visited the Prince's burial site, attended a church for part of the funeral, visited a couple businesses to see how we could improve them, did a little shopping, had an informal meeting with one of the guys from staging, went to the 'gym' (it's a burnt down house with one bench and an improvised curling bar), took a run to the beach, stayed at the beach with other volunteers, played some soccer with the village kids / teenagers, and finally relaxed by watching a movie. It's so nice not to have to worry about language sessions.
My roommate and I have this inside joke to see when it would be the most inappropriate time to say "does this turn anyone else on?". So far he's winning by pitching the line during one of our medical sessions when we were talking about boils. It doesn't sound really funny on paper, but it sure makes all the trainings pass by a little quicker.
Anyways, Tuesday we're gonna move to our next host family (at another island) and I probably won't be able to get online for 5 weeks. Hope everyone at home is well!
My roommate and I have this inside joke to see when it would be the most inappropriate time to say "does this turn anyone else on?". So far he's winning by pitching the line during one of our medical sessions when we were talking about boils. It doesn't sound really funny on paper, but it sure makes all the trainings pass by a little quicker.
Anyways, Tuesday we're gonna move to our next host family (at another island) and I probably won't be able to get online for 5 weeks. Hope everyone at home is well!
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Visit to the Tongan Navy Base
The tattoo turned out nicely. I talked to the medical officer and they said it wasn’t safe given those conditions. A person in my group wants to get a tattoo the Tongan 'traditional way', despite the warnings. Traditional wood tapping is gone, they now use the prison style need gun.
Today we went to the Tongan Navy base to do our water safety training. They showed us basic boating, had us swim with our lifejackets, and even steer a small motorboat. The instructor specifically said that there were no sharks in the area, which was a sigh of relief for many of us. Not more than a year ago, another Peace Corps volunteer died from a shark attack.
Today we went to the Tongan Navy base to do our water safety training. They showed us basic boating, had us swim with our lifejackets, and even steer a small motorboat. The instructor specifically said that there were no sharks in the area, which was a sigh of relief for many of us. Not more than a year ago, another Peace Corps volunteer died from a shark attack.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Going to town!
Yesterday we went to town. We went to buy our tupenus (they’re like dresses except for guys and yes, it is the social norm). It was also the first time we were able to access the Internet since we got here in Tonga. I checked my emails, updated my blog, and read some messages.
Today one of the volunteers and I went for a morning jog to the beach. It’s still hard to believe we’re here! After our 8:30 a.m. – 4:30 p.m. classes, we went back with more volunteers for a swim. It was low tide so we weren’t able to swim much. We did try to catch small fish with my nalgene bottle, but weren’t very successful. I did get a small crab though!
Today I went to class wearing my fashionable tupenu. I now have a lot more respect for women being able to use the restroom with a dress on. We had language sessions, but we finished the day with a a quick session on washing our clothes by hand (Peace Corps covers all the bases).
Anyways, when we got back from class, Lavinia took us to the beach where there was a Mormon celebration. On the way back we went to see the flying fox sanctuary. Flying foxes are like bats, but a bit larger and fly about in broad daylight. Lavinia treated us for some ice cream (from New Zealand) and we returned home in time to go on another quick run before dinner.
We went jogging to the beach and on the way home, some stray dogs almost bit us. Dogs here are act and are treated nothing like their American counterparts. In Tonga (and I guess in most developing countries) its common to see dogs limping around. People commonly throw rocks at dogs in order to keep them away. Dogs here are known to carry diseases and are a lot more wild. We were advised to carry at least a small rock with us when we run in order to scare away the rabid dogs. At the very least, we should act like we’re throwing a rock.
During dinner we learned more about our host family. They’re from Hawaii and the 16-room house that we are staying in is their summer home. They’re very Americanized; hence watching “Resident Evil”, “Sky High”, and “You Got Served”. The kids speak mainly English while the older siblings generally speak Tongan. Just yesterday I learned that the 9 year old we were learning Tongan from didn’t actually know much about the Tongan language. I wish I brought a good Tongan-English dictionary, as the one the Peace Corps assigned us is slightly outdated.
Right now someone from our host family is getting a tattoo of the Tongan crest on her right leg/calf. This’ll be interesting to see because the tattoo gun looks like its prison style/home-made.
Tomorrow is water training / safely!
Today one of the volunteers and I went for a morning jog to the beach. It’s still hard to believe we’re here! After our 8:30 a.m. – 4:30 p.m. classes, we went back with more volunteers for a swim. It was low tide so we weren’t able to swim much. We did try to catch small fish with my nalgene bottle, but weren’t very successful. I did get a small crab though!
Today I went to class wearing my fashionable tupenu. I now have a lot more respect for women being able to use the restroom with a dress on. We had language sessions, but we finished the day with a a quick session on washing our clothes by hand (Peace Corps covers all the bases).
Anyways, when we got back from class, Lavinia took us to the beach where there was a Mormon celebration. On the way back we went to see the flying fox sanctuary. Flying foxes are like bats, but a bit larger and fly about in broad daylight. Lavinia treated us for some ice cream (from New Zealand) and we returned home in time to go on another quick run before dinner.
We went jogging to the beach and on the way home, some stray dogs almost bit us. Dogs here are act and are treated nothing like their American counterparts. In Tonga (and I guess in most developing countries) its common to see dogs limping around. People commonly throw rocks at dogs in order to keep them away. Dogs here are known to carry diseases and are a lot more wild. We were advised to carry at least a small rock with us when we run in order to scare away the rabid dogs. At the very least, we should act like we’re throwing a rock.
During dinner we learned more about our host family. They’re from Hawaii and the 16-room house that we are staying in is their summer home. They’re very Americanized; hence watching “Resident Evil”, “Sky High”, and “You Got Served”. The kids speak mainly English while the older siblings generally speak Tongan. Just yesterday I learned that the 9 year old we were learning Tongan from didn’t actually know much about the Tongan language. I wish I brought a good Tongan-English dictionary, as the one the Peace Corps assigned us is slightly outdated.
Right now someone from our host family is getting a tattoo of the Tongan crest on her right leg/calf. This’ll be interesting to see because the tattoo gun looks like its prison style/home-made.
Tomorrow is water training / safely!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Adjusting
Yesterday I crashed pretty early (maybe around 8 pm) and woke up round 7:30 a.m. For those that know me, that’s really odd since I’m usually such an insomniac in America (where I sleep about 5 hours/night on average). I’m guessing the reason for my new sleeping schedule is because it gets pitch black very early. The only lighting emanates from the few homes and there are only two or three light posts around the village.
I think I’m getting used to the small lizards and palm-sized spiders roaming about, but the cold bucket baths still send chills down to the spine. I know I’m sounding pretty spoiled, but I miss hot water already!
Today we finished more language training. We reviewed the alphabet, how the faukaua >> ‘ << affects the word, and how to count up to 100 in Tongan. For breakfast we had bread and butter with tea. For lunch we had egg sandwiches and taikaka (sp? – a type of dough dumpling with sugar / caramel coconut juice). I heard from the coconut wireless (word of mouth) that our family had to go on quite the quest for the eggs and the nearest place that sold them was two villages away. Dinner was simply amazing as well; New Zealand sausage, chow mein, and eggplant soup with tea. We definitely have it the nicest out of all the group 71 volunteers (and I’m not complaining).
Before dinner, some of us headed over to the Ha’atafu beach and watched a beautiful sunset. I didn’t bring my camera to Ha’atafu, but even if I did, some things should just be enjoyed. I know this sounds so cheesy, but there was something romantic about being in a foreign country, sitting on a white sanded beach, watching a clear blue sky stretch out as far as the naked eye can see, and with little far away islands dotting the open sea.
It's sights like this that reassures me that some $XXXXX+ a year career just isn’t right for me at this time of life. However, I do wish that my friends and family were here to see and share this moment; it’s simply breathtaking. Speaking of family, I haven’t had a chance to get to a payphone or an Internet café yet (I think I’m suffering slightly from internet withdrawal). I’d like to at least let them know I’m okay, though I did tell them that in the Peace Corps world, no news means good news.
I like my Peace Corps group. We’re all united in the common idea that we can all try to make the world better, no matter how small that difference may be. It’s also neat how diverse everyone is and how we probably wouldn’t have met each other if it weren’t for Peace Corps. These people have some of the best attitudes I’ve seen; we’re already constantly joking with one another and even playing the occasional prank.
One of the topics discussed in class that was particularly interesting was the concept of independence/happiness. Americans generally like to be alone at times and have their own space. Tongans don’t seem to value independence as much. One of the children made a comment about how they feel sorry for one of the volunteers because he gets his own room. I was thinking, what a lucky bastard, he gets his own room!
I think I’m getting used to the small lizards and palm-sized spiders roaming about, but the cold bucket baths still send chills down to the spine. I know I’m sounding pretty spoiled, but I miss hot water already!
Today we finished more language training. We reviewed the alphabet, how the faukaua >> ‘ << affects the word, and how to count up to 100 in Tongan. For breakfast we had bread and butter with tea. For lunch we had egg sandwiches and taikaka (sp? – a type of dough dumpling with sugar / caramel coconut juice). I heard from the coconut wireless (word of mouth) that our family had to go on quite the quest for the eggs and the nearest place that sold them was two villages away. Dinner was simply amazing as well; New Zealand sausage, chow mein, and eggplant soup with tea. We definitely have it the nicest out of all the group 71 volunteers (and I’m not complaining).
Before dinner, some of us headed over to the Ha’atafu beach and watched a beautiful sunset. I didn’t bring my camera to Ha’atafu, but even if I did, some things should just be enjoyed. I know this sounds so cheesy, but there was something romantic about being in a foreign country, sitting on a white sanded beach, watching a clear blue sky stretch out as far as the naked eye can see, and with little far away islands dotting the open sea.
It's sights like this that reassures me that some $XXXXX+ a year career just isn’t right for me at this time of life. However, I do wish that my friends and family were here to see and share this moment; it’s simply breathtaking. Speaking of family, I haven’t had a chance to get to a payphone or an Internet café yet (I think I’m suffering slightly from internet withdrawal). I’d like to at least let them know I’m okay, though I did tell them that in the Peace Corps world, no news means good news.
I like my Peace Corps group. We’re all united in the common idea that we can all try to make the world better, no matter how small that difference may be. It’s also neat how diverse everyone is and how we probably wouldn’t have met each other if it weren’t for Peace Corps. These people have some of the best attitudes I’ve seen; we’re already constantly joking with one another and even playing the occasional prank.
One of the topics discussed in class that was particularly interesting was the concept of independence/happiness. Americans generally like to be alone at times and have their own space. Tongans don’t seem to value independence as much. One of the children made a comment about how they feel sorry for one of the volunteers because he gets his own room. I was thinking, what a lucky bastard, he gets his own room!
Safe!
Making a quick post at an internet cafe in Tonga. Just wanted everyone to know that I made it here safely. It's been such a crazy week! Some of the pictures here are so beautifully surreal. I'll update later, though that might not be for another few weeks. I've just been writing stuff down on random tidbits of paper. The jiff of it is that I've had the great opportunity to meet a lot of cool people! I'm staying with a very nice host family and trying to learn the culture / language. Anyhoo my time is up, cya!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Leaving Home
My family dropped me off Friday morning to the Yosemite airport in Fresno, CA. (If you're reading this, I miss everyone already!) From there I caught my flight to LAX and met the rest of the Peace Corps volunteers. We have a pretty interesting and diverse group. There are 10 women and 6 men (with 4 specializing in IT and 12 specializing in business). Unsurprisingly, they all seem to have a genial disposition as well as an impeccable sense of humor.
For the weekend, we stayed at the hotel to cover some general Peace Corps policies and get acquainted with one another. We tried to catch a ‘Pirates of the Caribbean 2’ showing, but the theater tickets were sold out for our available times.
Saturday night we left the hotel and caught a thirteen-hour flight from Los Angeles to New Zealand. One of the volunteers seems deathly scared of flights. Right now we’re on a two-hour flight to Tonga. I missed the World Cup final (something that I wish I could have watched with my dad). However, I was able to see France’s first goal at a bar in the New Zealand airport. They're now announcing the score in the middle of the Tongan plane ride! Anyways, I will write more later; right now I need to conserve the batteries on my laptop.
For the weekend, we stayed at the hotel to cover some general Peace Corps policies and get acquainted with one another. We tried to catch a ‘Pirates of the Caribbean 2’ showing, but the theater tickets were sold out for our available times.
Saturday night we left the hotel and caught a thirteen-hour flight from Los Angeles to New Zealand. One of the volunteers seems deathly scared of flights. Right now we’re on a two-hour flight to Tonga. I missed the World Cup final (something that I wish I could have watched with my dad). However, I was able to see France’s first goal at a bar in the New Zealand airport. They're now announcing the score in the middle of the Tongan plane ride! Anyways, I will write more later; right now I need to conserve the batteries on my laptop.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Lavinia's Mansion
We arrived safely in Tonga with all our luggage! Yesterday we finished setting up our bank accounts and placed our valuables in the Peace Corps safety deposit box. During lunch, we walked around town when we happened upon three elder Tongans sitting down with beads laid across the floor. We stopped to take a look and before we knew it, one of the other volunteers and I had received “gifts in exchange for money”. That’s my way of saying we got ripped off and 'accidentally bought useless items with our lunch money' (Though as a later note, I was able to give them as gifts to our first host family in Ha’atafu) With our lunch money spent, the rest of the group pitched in to help the other volunteer and I get a meal.
As for the rest of the day, we left the capital city of Nuku’alofa by bus and arrived at the remote Ha’atafu village by evening. We received a warm reception and split up with our host families. Each host family holds 1-3 palangis (if you’re not a Tongan, you’re referenced as a ‘palangi’/outsider). I was placed with the largest group, which was three volunteers assigned to one family.
After the village reception, we went on a tour of the entire village, which was pretty much the equivalent of walking down the length of one city block. Within a few steps we discovered an amazing ocean side view. After just a mile of walking, there was the untouched Ha’atafu beach.
When we returned home, Lavinia Sunia (our host mother) cooked us a very delicious meal of soup, chicken, assorted vegetables, and sweet potatoes.
The place we stayed in was definitely not what I imagined when I thought of Peace Corps and a developing country. It was a strikingly odd mix between new and old. The building was a 16-room mansion with amenities like a large TV and DVD player (which is considered odd in a place with sporadic electricity and almost huts next door). In terms of bathing, it was still on par with the rest of the village, which meant taking cold bucket baths. If the stars aligned perfectly and fate decided to smile on us that particular day, we could take the occasional shower.
For the rest of the night we practiced a few of the important Tongan phrases, watched the movie “Sky High”, and called it a night. Today we’ll begin our language training.
As for the rest of the day, we left the capital city of Nuku’alofa by bus and arrived at the remote Ha’atafu village by evening. We received a warm reception and split up with our host families. Each host family holds 1-3 palangis (if you’re not a Tongan, you’re referenced as a ‘palangi’/outsider). I was placed with the largest group, which was three volunteers assigned to one family.
After the village reception, we went on a tour of the entire village, which was pretty much the equivalent of walking down the length of one city block. Within a few steps we discovered an amazing ocean side view. After just a mile of walking, there was the untouched Ha’atafu beach.
When we returned home, Lavinia Sunia (our host mother) cooked us a very delicious meal of soup, chicken, assorted vegetables, and sweet potatoes.
The place we stayed in was definitely not what I imagined when I thought of Peace Corps and a developing country. It was a strikingly odd mix between new and old. The building was a 16-room mansion with amenities like a large TV and DVD player (which is considered odd in a place with sporadic electricity and almost huts next door). In terms of bathing, it was still on par with the rest of the village, which meant taking cold bucket baths. If the stars aligned perfectly and fate decided to smile on us that particular day, we could take the occasional shower.
For the rest of the night we practiced a few of the important Tongan phrases, watched the movie “Sky High”, and called it a night. Today we’ll begin our language training.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
A bit weird...
Some of the comments that I make may seem to be way out there for 'normal' people. But whose really normal anyways? Once you get to know people, we're all crazy!
We have a list of things for people to do for our swearing in ceremony. Some of the jobs include reading the hymn, saying a thank you speech, and doing a dance. Some activities seemed neat and some seemed downright stressful. One of the volunteers was very impressed with some of the other volunteers' abilities and started nominating them for (what I thought to be) some of the more stressful activities.
Later, I made a comment about how that's the equivalent of kicking someone in the balls, then telling them that's the nicest pair of balls they've ever kicked.
I don't know, just a "you have to be there" type of moment I guess.
We have a list of things for people to do for our swearing in ceremony. Some of the jobs include reading the hymn, saying a thank you speech, and doing a dance. Some activities seemed neat and some seemed downright stressful. One of the volunteers was very impressed with some of the other volunteers' abilities and started nominating them for (what I thought to be) some of the more stressful activities.
Later, I made a comment about how that's the equivalent of kicking someone in the balls, then telling them that's the nicest pair of balls they've ever kicked.
I don't know, just a "you have to be there" type of moment I guess.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Night surprise
It's almost midnight and I couldn't sleep for the past two hours. I laid in bed occasionally tossing and turning, hoping that I could sleep simply by keeping my eyes shut. However, my mind wandered aimlessly from subject to subject.
That’s when I heard the first scratch on the window. Initially I thought maybe it was just a branch blown against the glass window. Then there was another scratch and I heard the distinct sound of a window being pried open. I pretended to be asleep and simply waited.
I knew my host family were all asleep. No sane person would try to enter the house through a small window so I immediately assumed it was a robber. Most of the village knew that I had a laptop. I reached under my pillow and grabbed my leatherman’s tool. For precaution, I slowly flipped out the 3 inch knife. As the blade locked into place with a sharp click, I hoped even more that I wouldn't have to use it. It would however, buy me time to yell for help. Dread filled me as the window continued to slowly open.
With half an eye open, I noticed a small figure against the window. It looked like it a silhouette of a hand. I decided I would make my move. I jumped out of bed, lifted the mosquito net, and hysterically waved the knife in the air. I saw the silhouette and that’s when I realized it was only a cat trying to slip into the house. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
That’s when I heard the first scratch on the window. Initially I thought maybe it was just a branch blown against the glass window. Then there was another scratch and I heard the distinct sound of a window being pried open. I pretended to be asleep and simply waited.
I knew my host family were all asleep. No sane person would try to enter the house through a small window so I immediately assumed it was a robber. Most of the village knew that I had a laptop. I reached under my pillow and grabbed my leatherman’s tool. For precaution, I slowly flipped out the 3 inch knife. As the blade locked into place with a sharp click, I hoped even more that I wouldn't have to use it. It would however, buy me time to yell for help. Dread filled me as the window continued to slowly open.
With half an eye open, I noticed a small figure against the window. It looked like it a silhouette of a hand. I decided I would make my move. I jumped out of bed, lifted the mosquito net, and hysterically waved the knife in the air. I saw the silhouette and that’s when I realized it was only a cat trying to slip into the house. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
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