The Email that Never Came
So after "The Paris Train Incidient", we discovered that we forgot to tie up some loose ends. Before Adrienne hung up the phone on her parents at the Paris Train Station, she told them that she would call back in 15 minutes. Her plan was to call back at the hostel. At the hostel, we discovered that there were no phones that could dial out internationally. In our tired state, we ended up just eating and sleeping while her parents were still expecting a phone call.
We forgot to follow up. We also overslept our train to Milan, Italy and were already tackling our next problem of "Where do we want to go?". The person checking for available seats just looked at us with an incredulous stare each time TravelingPartner and I opened our mouths and sprouted out that we whimsically wanted to visit said country. The conversation went like this:
William: "We overslept our train to Milan, Italy. Is there any more available seats today for Milan?"
Train Employee: "Let me check... nope, not for today"
William: "How about to Italy in general?"
Train Employee: "Let me check..."
Adrienne: "I've already been to Italy. Can we go somewhere else?"
William: "How about Bern, Switzerland?"
Train Employee: "Let me check... fully booked for today"
William: "You want to go to Barcelona?"
Adrienne: "Sure!"
William: "What about Barcelona, Spain?"
Train Employee: "Um... let me check... none available today"
Adrienne: "What about Vienna, Austria?"
Train Employee: "Let me check... yep, I can get you two to the next train in an hour and a half, but it leaves from another station"
William and Adrienne look at each other.
William: "Perfect, we'll take it!"
We asked for trains to Bern, Switzerland all the way to Barcelona, Spain. and ended up just going to Vienna, Austria. It was pretty hilarious at that point; we were so accustomed to going wherever the train would take us that it was beginning to be fairly routine. Paris was also starting to get very expensive so we just wanted to get the hell out of there.
While we were contemplating where to go, Adrienne's parents were still concerned about the welfare of their daughter. Before we left, Adrienne had left her parents the contact information to reach my parents in cases of dire emergencies. This situation neatly filed under the "Dire Emergency" category.
Last they knew, their beautiful daughter was in a foreign country where she did not know the local language and had no place to stay. They knew that it was nightfall, we had little cash, businesses were closed, and we had never been to that part of Paris before. I was also a mysterious person who they've never met and who only knew their daughter through Peace Corps.
So Adrienne's parents called my parents. Little did they know of me and my reclusiveness. The call did not alleviate their concerns, but only frustrated them more. From what I've asked around, here's what happened:
AP = Adrienne's Parents
MP = My parents
MC = My cousin
Adrienne's Parents call up my house.
Ring Ring!
My parents pick up the phone.
My parents: "Hello?"
AP: "Hi, is this William Liu's parents?"
MP: "Yes. William's not here right now, he's in Europe somewhere."
AP: "Yes, I know. This is Adrienne's mother. William is traveling with my daughter."
MP: "Yes, William is in Europe."
AP: "Yes. The last I heard from them, they had no place to stay, they were in a train station they've never been, they didn't have much cash, and they said they would call me back in 15 minutes, but I haven't heard from them in a couple days. I've emailed them and I haven't gotten a response. It's not like my daughter to ask for help, and then stop all communication. When was the last time you heard from William?"
MP: "William's in Europe, he'll be back later. Don't worry, William always finds a way out of sticky situations"
AP: "..."
MP: "Do you want to talk to his cousin? She knows computers, they might have contacted each other."
AP: "Umm... Yes please"
My parents pass phone over to my 16 year old cousin.
My cousin: "Hi"
AP: "Hi, when was the last time you heard from William?"
MC: "Last week"
AP: "Do you know where he is and if he's ok?"
MC: "Yeah, he's in Europe. He'll be back later."
AP: "Have you talked to him recently?"
MC: "No, but he always manages to get by. Don't worry"
Adrienne's Parents repeat our dire situation.
MC replies back "No worries, they'll be fine."
AP: "........."
AP: "Ok, thank you. Bye"
MC: "Ok, Bye!"
Adrienne received an email from her parents and her friends. I received not even a single email! Let's not go into further details about that...
[Updated] It's been a few days since I've been back and during a dinner my mom casually said, "Oh, while you were gone, someone called for you. It was someone's mom. They wanted to know where you were."
I laughed.
Friday, March 30, 2007
The Paris Train Station Incident
The Paris Train Station Incident
Almost all of our traveling was done by train due to Europe's highly efficient and relatively cheap public transportation system. With a magical ticket called the "Eurail pass", we were able to travel with ease from country to country. While this was another way to cut cost and maximize our time (sleep on the train ride so we don't have to pay for a hotel), as we found out, traveling from country to country doesn't necessarily mean a place to stay in each country (Read: The Night at Bruges Train Station). This was the case once again after we finished our day trip to Lyon, France.
It was approaching late evening when we returned to Paris and Adrienne reminded me that we had no place to stay for the night. Argh, I forgot about that! I think the adventure of traveling is sometimes ruined by trivial questions like "Where are we going to stay for the night? Where are we going to eat?" Not only do you have to answer those questions, but they're reoccurring questions that keep coming back night after night or every 4-6 hours.
This was another one of those nights that I forgot to pay attention to those pesky questions. Normally we would reserve a place to stay a whole 12 to 24 hours in advance. Today was not one of those days. We needed a place to stay at that exact moment, but couldn't find any help to locate a hostel. There was no one to ask for accommodations and no Internet access around. We were tired, hungry, and we had all our belongings with us. It looked like we were carrying so little, but it began to weigh exponentially heavier as time pressed on. Businesses had closed, including the restrooms, and even the train station looked like it was about to close soon. It was a depressing situation.
Adrienne looked around and started a desperate plan. She had the look of a caged animal trying whatever was necessary to impede the fate of sleeping at another train station. She probably remembered her near death experience in the Bruges Train Station and used that as fuel to help us find a place to stay. She came up with an elaborate plan of calling her parents in the United States in order to give them an update on our sad predicament, hoping that they could locate a nearby hostel online.
Unlike Adrienne, who was coordinating her complex plan that involved communication across 3000+ miles and relaying information from the super information highway, I had a much simpler plan. I walked outside the train station and poked around.
To be honest, at that moment, even though it was 10 p.m., we had no place to sleep, we didn't eat in the last 6 hours, and there was a group of hobos forming at the base of the train station, I only had one thing that preoccupied everything; I needed to pee.
Fueled by my urge to relieve myself, I hastily moved out while Adrienne stayed inside the train station to rest. She must have thought that I was looking valiantly for a nearby hostel. I was mainly searching outside the train station to look for a place to pee. I can't believe the restrooms were closed! How cruel are the French to close restrooms?! As my bladder began to fill and verge on the point of exploding, I started hating France and its stupid design!
Why couldn't they put a dark alley here or there? Who needs a restaurant there when it could be a nice dark alley?! While normally any sane traveler would dread approaching any dark alley, I was running around looking for one. I thought about asking people, but that would be slightly awkward even for me. "Excuse me sir, can you point me to a nice dark alley? I'm friendly, I promise I won't mug you!"
In my search, I finally found a hotel! I went inside to inquire about the price. We were desperate, but we were also very poor. 70 Euros a night for two people?! You've got to be kidding me! I thanked the concierge and walked out. I visited 3 more hotels before I found out that hotels within the vicinity ranged from 70 to 100 Euros per night, which seemed normal, but still much outside our price range. Still too stubborn, I continued on my quest to find a reasonably priced sleeping accommodation when I walked around a corner only to see our luck change.
Not more than half a block away I saw my miracle flashing before my eyes in a bright neon orange sign clearing stating "HOSTEL". Woot! We're saved! I asked inside and the price was approximately 35 Euros for two people with breakfast included. We had to hurry though, they only had one room left, they didn't accept credit cards, I didn't have enough cash on me, and there was no bank open.
I made it back to the train station and found Adrienne still on the phone. She had reached a snag in her complex plan. Apparently, she didn't expect her parents to put her on hold. Adrienne was pissed off that her family had put her on hold when she was calling halfways across the world (though in all fairness, it was her sibling's birthday and they were bringing out the cake).
The news of finding a hostel made her beam with happiness. She hung up the phone and we left for the hostel. We ended up having to combine our cash in order to barely have enough to pay for the night. We were paying the last couple Euros by scrounging up some of the .20 Euro coins that we had in our pockets.
We later found an ATM and were able to get some cash for dinner.
P.S. I was finally able to pee. Best. Piss. Ever.
Almost all of our traveling was done by train due to Europe's highly efficient and relatively cheap public transportation system. With a magical ticket called the "Eurail pass", we were able to travel with ease from country to country. While this was another way to cut cost and maximize our time (sleep on the train ride so we don't have to pay for a hotel), as we found out, traveling from country to country doesn't necessarily mean a place to stay in each country (Read: The Night at Bruges Train Station). This was the case once again after we finished our day trip to Lyon, France.
It was approaching late evening when we returned to Paris and Adrienne reminded me that we had no place to stay for the night. Argh, I forgot about that! I think the adventure of traveling is sometimes ruined by trivial questions like "Where are we going to stay for the night? Where are we going to eat?" Not only do you have to answer those questions, but they're reoccurring questions that keep coming back night after night or every 4-6 hours.
This was another one of those nights that I forgot to pay attention to those pesky questions. Normally we would reserve a place to stay a whole 12 to 24 hours in advance. Today was not one of those days. We needed a place to stay at that exact moment, but couldn't find any help to locate a hostel. There was no one to ask for accommodations and no Internet access around. We were tired, hungry, and we had all our belongings with us. It looked like we were carrying so little, but it began to weigh exponentially heavier as time pressed on. Businesses had closed, including the restrooms, and even the train station looked like it was about to close soon. It was a depressing situation.
Adrienne looked around and started a desperate plan. She had the look of a caged animal trying whatever was necessary to impede the fate of sleeping at another train station. She probably remembered her near death experience in the Bruges Train Station and used that as fuel to help us find a place to stay. She came up with an elaborate plan of calling her parents in the United States in order to give them an update on our sad predicament, hoping that they could locate a nearby hostel online.
Unlike Adrienne, who was coordinating her complex plan that involved communication across 3000+ miles and relaying information from the super information highway, I had a much simpler plan. I walked outside the train station and poked around.
To be honest, at that moment, even though it was 10 p.m., we had no place to sleep, we didn't eat in the last 6 hours, and there was a group of hobos forming at the base of the train station, I only had one thing that preoccupied everything; I needed to pee.
Fueled by my urge to relieve myself, I hastily moved out while Adrienne stayed inside the train station to rest. She must have thought that I was looking valiantly for a nearby hostel. I was mainly searching outside the train station to look for a place to pee. I can't believe the restrooms were closed! How cruel are the French to close restrooms?! As my bladder began to fill and verge on the point of exploding, I started hating France and its stupid design!
Why couldn't they put a dark alley here or there? Who needs a restaurant there when it could be a nice dark alley?! While normally any sane traveler would dread approaching any dark alley, I was running around looking for one. I thought about asking people, but that would be slightly awkward even for me. "Excuse me sir, can you point me to a nice dark alley? I'm friendly, I promise I won't mug you!"
In my search, I finally found a hotel! I went inside to inquire about the price. We were desperate, but we were also very poor. 70 Euros a night for two people?! You've got to be kidding me! I thanked the concierge and walked out. I visited 3 more hotels before I found out that hotels within the vicinity ranged from 70 to 100 Euros per night, which seemed normal, but still much outside our price range. Still too stubborn, I continued on my quest to find a reasonably priced sleeping accommodation when I walked around a corner only to see our luck change.
Not more than half a block away I saw my miracle flashing before my eyes in a bright neon orange sign clearing stating "HOSTEL". Woot! We're saved! I asked inside and the price was approximately 35 Euros for two people with breakfast included. We had to hurry though, they only had one room left, they didn't accept credit cards, I didn't have enough cash on me, and there was no bank open.
I made it back to the train station and found Adrienne still on the phone. She had reached a snag in her complex plan. Apparently, she didn't expect her parents to put her on hold. Adrienne was pissed off that her family had put her on hold when she was calling halfways across the world (though in all fairness, it was her sibling's birthday and they were bringing out the cake).
The news of finding a hostel made her beam with happiness. She hung up the phone and we left for the hostel. We ended up having to combine our cash in order to barely have enough to pay for the night. We were paying the last couple Euros by scrounging up some of the .20 Euro coins that we had in our pockets.
We later found an ATM and were able to get some cash for dinner.
P.S. I was finally able to pee. Best. Piss. Ever.
The Night at Bruges Train Station
The Night at Bruges Train Station
I woke up feeling fairly refreshed - well considering I had just slept 6 hours in a train station. I quickly glanced at my watch; we had another hour to kill before the train to Paris arrives. Feeling quite jovial about getting some decent rest and waking up on time, I looked over at Adrienne to see how she was faring.
Oh Shit! Adrienne looked pale, an almost deathly pale! My heart immediately began to beat faster and my mind raced with logical explanations. Its one of those feelings that makes you wake up instantly regardless of how deep asleep you were moments before. Who needs coffee to start the day when you could wake up to see that the only person you know within a 300 mile radius just might be nothing more than a cold corpse?
There has to be a logical explanation though. Maybe she just saw a ghost walking by. Maybe its normal for Adrienne to sleep with her eyes open and I just didn't make that observation until now. Or it could be the more likely scenario and the one that I dreaded; maybe she's borderline hypothermia. Freezing to death in a train station during Winter in order to save 30 Euros, how am I going to explain that to her parents?
I thought back. Before I fell asleep, she had complained about how cold the temperature was. I had given her my warmest jacket, a jacket that I used before for snowboarding. That jacket kept me warm enough in the harshest environments and although it was cold, I was wearing only a fleece in comparison. I thought it should keep her warm enough to survive in a building. Along with my snowboarding jacket, she also wore both her jackets, a sweater, a scarf, a beanie, and her thermals. She looked like a hulking pile of mismatched clothes.
At the very least I thought she would be a hulking pile of warm clothes. I poked her to see if Adrienne was alive. Much to my relief, she was. The conversation went pretty much like this:
William: "Hey. Adrienne. Are you alive?"
*Few seconds of eerie silence passes by*
Adrienne: "Yes."
William: "You feeling ok?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Ahh, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Did you even get any sleep?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Ahh... ummm... Hey by the way, thanks for watching over our stuff. Just to let ya know I got some good sleep in. Why didn't you wake me up when it was my turn? Oh, we should do this more often. You know we just saved 30 Euros?"
Adrienne stares daggers at me.
I got Adrienne to get up and walk around the train station to get some blood circulation going. Whatever it was, she ended up throwing up. To say the least, we never slept at another train station for the rest of our trip. At that point we had traveled to three new countries, seen a lot of amazing new sites, and been in a few interesting predicaments (one which involved some stranger trying to sell us some ecstasy in Amsterdam). Needless to say though, this was the first time in our trip that I was really worried, if even for just a fleeting moment.
----------
The Amsterdam Story - Sorry, but you'll have to ask me in person about this one. If I don't remember, jot my memory by asking me what was under my pillow.
I woke up feeling fairly refreshed - well considering I had just slept 6 hours in a train station. I quickly glanced at my watch; we had another hour to kill before the train to Paris arrives. Feeling quite jovial about getting some decent rest and waking up on time, I looked over at Adrienne to see how she was faring.
Oh Shit! Adrienne looked pale, an almost deathly pale! My heart immediately began to beat faster and my mind raced with logical explanations. Its one of those feelings that makes you wake up instantly regardless of how deep asleep you were moments before. Who needs coffee to start the day when you could wake up to see that the only person you know within a 300 mile radius just might be nothing more than a cold corpse?
There has to be a logical explanation though. Maybe she just saw a ghost walking by. Maybe its normal for Adrienne to sleep with her eyes open and I just didn't make that observation until now. Or it could be the more likely scenario and the one that I dreaded; maybe she's borderline hypothermia. Freezing to death in a train station during Winter in order to save 30 Euros, how am I going to explain that to her parents?
I thought back. Before I fell asleep, she had complained about how cold the temperature was. I had given her my warmest jacket, a jacket that I used before for snowboarding. That jacket kept me warm enough in the harshest environments and although it was cold, I was wearing only a fleece in comparison. I thought it should keep her warm enough to survive in a building. Along with my snowboarding jacket, she also wore both her jackets, a sweater, a scarf, a beanie, and her thermals. She looked like a hulking pile of mismatched clothes.
At the very least I thought she would be a hulking pile of warm clothes. I poked her to see if Adrienne was alive. Much to my relief, she was. The conversation went pretty much like this:
William: "Hey. Adrienne. Are you alive?"
*Few seconds of eerie silence passes by*
Adrienne: "Yes."
William: "You feeling ok?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Ahh, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Did you even get any sleep?"
Adrienne: "No."
William: "Ahh... ummm... Hey by the way, thanks for watching over our stuff. Just to let ya know I got some good sleep in. Why didn't you wake me up when it was my turn? Oh, we should do this more often. You know we just saved 30 Euros?"
Adrienne stares daggers at me.
I got Adrienne to get up and walk around the train station to get some blood circulation going. Whatever it was, she ended up throwing up. To say the least, we never slept at another train station for the rest of our trip. At that point we had traveled to three new countries, seen a lot of amazing new sites, and been in a few interesting predicaments (one which involved some stranger trying to sell us some ecstasy in Amsterdam). Needless to say though, this was the first time in our trip that I was really worried, if even for just a fleeting moment.
----------
The Amsterdam Story - Sorry, but you'll have to ask me in person about this one. If I don't remember, jot my memory by asking me what was under my pillow.
Some pictures of backpacking through Europe
Chocolote Museum in Bruges, Belgium
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Hamberg, Germany
Absinthe, 70% Alcohol, 10% Thujon
Prague, Czech Republic
Prague Castle in the Czech Republic
Me running out of money... where to sleep?
Adrienne getting ready to sleep in the train station!
Drinking + bowling = final score in the two digits range
Inside a church in Vienna, Austria
In front of the Louve at night
Moulin Rogue, how cliche...
New friends from Freiburg!
Hanging out in Freiburg, lucky me!
Sunbathing in Freiburg 101
Drinking in front of a police station in MunichTravels so far...
Traveled so far:
Lohne, Germany
Hamberg, Germany
Bremin, Germany
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Bruges, Belgium
Paris, France
Lyon, France
Vienna, Austria
Prague, Czech Republic (currently in)
Updated:
After Prague, Czech Republic, we went on to backpack through:
Berlin, Germany
Munich, Germany
Freiburg, Germany
Frankfurt, Germany
We haven't gotten too many responses back from couchsurfing. I think it's maybe because of the following reasons:
1.) We don't give enough notice.
2.) I'm an unverified member of couchsurfing.
3.) I'm carrying a large bush knife hacking away at a coconut on my default picture.
Travels have been fun so far! I have a few funny stories that I'll write about when I get back.
Edited: I'm back!!! I'll update the stories here.
Lohne, Germany
Hamberg, Germany
Bremin, Germany
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Bruges, Belgium
Paris, France
Lyon, France
Vienna, Austria
Prague, Czech Republic (currently in)
Updated:
After Prague, Czech Republic, we went on to backpack through:
Berlin, Germany
Munich, Germany
Freiburg, Germany
Frankfurt, Germany
We haven't gotten too many responses back from couchsurfing. I think it's maybe because of the following reasons:
1.) We don't give enough notice.
2.) I'm an unverified member of couchsurfing.
3.) I'm carrying a large bush knife hacking away at a coconut on my default picture.
Travels have been fun so far! I have a few funny stories that I'll write about when I get back.
Edited: I'm back!!! I'll update the stories here.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
My report: A Chinese-American Volunteer's Perspective on Tonga
A Chinese-American Volunteer’s perspective of Tonga
Peace Corps Volunteer William Liu Group 71
Race:
The coined expression of ignorance, “Have you been on an island these last few years??” aptly applies to specific Tongans when it comes to their knowledge of different cultures. In no fault of their own, the Tongans who have never left their country have little grasp of different races because they were born and raised on an island. Their perception comes from rare encounters with tourists, though their main understanding comes from the perpetual stereotypes that movies and television portray.
The ignorance of different cultures and races leads to the logical fallacy of false association. The Tongans that are unaware of different cultures falsely associate a person’s country of origin with certain physical features and sometimes, even their actions.
Most of the Asians that Tongans meet in their country are either Chinese or Japanese, characterized by the physical characteristics of squinted eyes predominate in Asian societies. Thus, from the island perspective, if you have squinty eyes, you’re either Chinese or Japanese. Koreans, Cambodians, or any other Asian race is unheard of because their influence has not quite reached Tonga yet. Similarly, most of the Americans that Tongans meet have a lighter skin tone and are classified under the well-regarded ‘palangi’ category.
It is physical racial appearances that define the initial impressions of what people think about you in Tonga. Due to the overwhelming population of certain cities, you may never have a chance to give more than initial impressions. As an Asian volunteer, you have to keep that in mind everyday.
Culture:
Tonga has enjoyed foreign aid courtesy of many countries, mainly from Australia, New Zealand, Japan, China, and the United States of America. The foreign aid organizations have only supplemented Tonga’s traditional culture of ‘share everything’. Over the years however, Tongans have become slowly immersed with a contrary culture, the materialistic culture. An overwhelming number of remittances have left a few Tongans constantly yearning for more, to live in a dream life that’s realistically unattainable without a lot of work.
Coincidently, over the last 10 years an influx of Chinese has quickly established themselves from a nearly nonexistent population to a prominent business force. The Chinese community happened to be highly commerce-minded and through shrewd business ventures, became identified in Tonga as the place to shop due to their greater variety of stock and inexpensive prices.
Tongans were forced to watch as their country changed from being mainly Tongan operated to largely foreigner operated in a relatively short amount of time. Foreign businesses are not a new concept in Tonga, but it wasn’t quite as apparent until the Chinese arrived and started stores in mass. Now instead of foreigners only working at white collared jobs, the Chinese operated even at a grassroots level and started displacing local Tongan businesses.
Tongans started to realize that Tonga was no longer Tongan; foreign businesses permeated even daily life and they were constantly reminded of the fact whenever they would go to the local store to find that it was no longer owned by a relative, but instead by an unfamiliar face from an unfamiliar land. People became furious. They asked themselves how did this happen to their country?
Instead of slowly shifting away from the old culture, Tongans have been pushed to make a quick decision about the future state of affairs for their country. Some wish to retain the old Tongan lifestyle of sharing everything while others wish to adapt to the changing times and are eager to adopt more of the Western philosophies. There’s anger at the government for being unable to deal with the situation at large, that the Tonga of today is no longer the Tonga of old.
Change is coming and many of the upcoming events may be just as unforeseeable as Black Thursday, where over 80% of the capital was burnt down in an uncontainable riot. Black Thursday is more than just mere statistics or the devastation of a city. Black Thursday was the country’s primal cry for changes, a cry that has no set direction, just a hodgepodge of ideas, but nonetheless a cry that demands that action and reforms occur. As with all things, only time can tell.
Safety:
Complete security is only an illusion wherever you may be and racism is everywhere in this world. However, the current state of affairs in Tonga has called for a heightened awareness for one’s own security. During these times of change, anyone considering serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Tonga should be made fully aware of these security issues to make a more informed decision and come better prepared.
The Chinese businesses are an easy target because of many factors. Not only do the Chinese make up a small 1% of the total population in Tonga, but their businesses are also dispersed all over Tonga. The Chinese are also noticeably smaller in physical stature than Tongans and do not understand English. Contrary to popular belief, the Chinese are not highly proficient in the Tongan language. The Chinese have had no formal training in the language so their vocabulary is mainly limited to identifying the items in a store. Beyond their store’s door, they feel helpless.
This leaves many Chinese in a foreign land, unable to put together a complete sentence in the local language, living as far as miles from the closest person who speaks the only language they know, and sitting behind metal bars as the only protection from would-be thieves. With no one to complain to when something happens and unable to even complain given the huge language barrier, this leaves Chinese businesses as easy prey to unscrupulous individuals ready to exploit an obvious vulnerability.
So if it’s dangerous, why do the Chinese still open up stores? Unlike Tongans (who inherit their land plots from birth), foreigners do not have any means of sustaining themselves off the land because of a law that states that foreigners cannot own land in Tonga. So far foreigners have bypassed that problem because they’re either part of an aid organization that pays its volunteers a living allowance or they’re tourists that come with money. With the highest export in Tonga being Tongans themselves, the idea of people moving to live in Tonga is unheard of. Foreigners living in Tonga are unable to sustain themselves off the land so they simply need money to survive, thus they create businesses.
To remain as safe as possible as an Asian volunteer, it is necessary to integrate yourself into the community. Let people know what a Peace Corps Volunteer is, that you come from America, and what your volunteer work consists of. You need people who can vouch for your character. Before that, you need to prove your character. Bars that might be acceptable for other volunteers might be more dangerous as a minority volunteer. If people get drunk at a bar, as usually is the case, you might be the first victim to be instigated. Above all, use common sense.
Peace Corps Volunteer William Liu Group 71
Race:
The coined expression of ignorance, “Have you been on an island these last few years??” aptly applies to specific Tongans when it comes to their knowledge of different cultures. In no fault of their own, the Tongans who have never left their country have little grasp of different races because they were born and raised on an island. Their perception comes from rare encounters with tourists, though their main understanding comes from the perpetual stereotypes that movies and television portray.
The ignorance of different cultures and races leads to the logical fallacy of false association. The Tongans that are unaware of different cultures falsely associate a person’s country of origin with certain physical features and sometimes, even their actions.
Most of the Asians that Tongans meet in their country are either Chinese or Japanese, characterized by the physical characteristics of squinted eyes predominate in Asian societies. Thus, from the island perspective, if you have squinty eyes, you’re either Chinese or Japanese. Koreans, Cambodians, or any other Asian race is unheard of because their influence has not quite reached Tonga yet. Similarly, most of the Americans that Tongans meet have a lighter skin tone and are classified under the well-regarded ‘palangi’ category.
It is physical racial appearances that define the initial impressions of what people think about you in Tonga. Due to the overwhelming population of certain cities, you may never have a chance to give more than initial impressions. As an Asian volunteer, you have to keep that in mind everyday.
Culture:
Tonga has enjoyed foreign aid courtesy of many countries, mainly from Australia, New Zealand, Japan, China, and the United States of America. The foreign aid organizations have only supplemented Tonga’s traditional culture of ‘share everything’. Over the years however, Tongans have become slowly immersed with a contrary culture, the materialistic culture. An overwhelming number of remittances have left a few Tongans constantly yearning for more, to live in a dream life that’s realistically unattainable without a lot of work.
Coincidently, over the last 10 years an influx of Chinese has quickly established themselves from a nearly nonexistent population to a prominent business force. The Chinese community happened to be highly commerce-minded and through shrewd business ventures, became identified in Tonga as the place to shop due to their greater variety of stock and inexpensive prices.
Tongans were forced to watch as their country changed from being mainly Tongan operated to largely foreigner operated in a relatively short amount of time. Foreign businesses are not a new concept in Tonga, but it wasn’t quite as apparent until the Chinese arrived and started stores in mass. Now instead of foreigners only working at white collared jobs, the Chinese operated even at a grassroots level and started displacing local Tongan businesses.
Tongans started to realize that Tonga was no longer Tongan; foreign businesses permeated even daily life and they were constantly reminded of the fact whenever they would go to the local store to find that it was no longer owned by a relative, but instead by an unfamiliar face from an unfamiliar land. People became furious. They asked themselves how did this happen to their country?
Instead of slowly shifting away from the old culture, Tongans have been pushed to make a quick decision about the future state of affairs for their country. Some wish to retain the old Tongan lifestyle of sharing everything while others wish to adapt to the changing times and are eager to adopt more of the Western philosophies. There’s anger at the government for being unable to deal with the situation at large, that the Tonga of today is no longer the Tonga of old.
Change is coming and many of the upcoming events may be just as unforeseeable as Black Thursday, where over 80% of the capital was burnt down in an uncontainable riot. Black Thursday is more than just mere statistics or the devastation of a city. Black Thursday was the country’s primal cry for changes, a cry that has no set direction, just a hodgepodge of ideas, but nonetheless a cry that demands that action and reforms occur. As with all things, only time can tell.
Safety:
Complete security is only an illusion wherever you may be and racism is everywhere in this world. However, the current state of affairs in Tonga has called for a heightened awareness for one’s own security. During these times of change, anyone considering serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Tonga should be made fully aware of these security issues to make a more informed decision and come better prepared.
The Chinese businesses are an easy target because of many factors. Not only do the Chinese make up a small 1% of the total population in Tonga, but their businesses are also dispersed all over Tonga. The Chinese are also noticeably smaller in physical stature than Tongans and do not understand English. Contrary to popular belief, the Chinese are not highly proficient in the Tongan language. The Chinese have had no formal training in the language so their vocabulary is mainly limited to identifying the items in a store. Beyond their store’s door, they feel helpless.
This leaves many Chinese in a foreign land, unable to put together a complete sentence in the local language, living as far as miles from the closest person who speaks the only language they know, and sitting behind metal bars as the only protection from would-be thieves. With no one to complain to when something happens and unable to even complain given the huge language barrier, this leaves Chinese businesses as easy prey to unscrupulous individuals ready to exploit an obvious vulnerability.
So if it’s dangerous, why do the Chinese still open up stores? Unlike Tongans (who inherit their land plots from birth), foreigners do not have any means of sustaining themselves off the land because of a law that states that foreigners cannot own land in Tonga. So far foreigners have bypassed that problem because they’re either part of an aid organization that pays its volunteers a living allowance or they’re tourists that come with money. With the highest export in Tonga being Tongans themselves, the idea of people moving to live in Tonga is unheard of. Foreigners living in Tonga are unable to sustain themselves off the land so they simply need money to survive, thus they create businesses.
To remain as safe as possible as an Asian volunteer, it is necessary to integrate yourself into the community. Let people know what a Peace Corps Volunteer is, that you come from America, and what your volunteer work consists of. You need people who can vouch for your character. Before that, you need to prove your character. Bars that might be acceptable for other volunteers might be more dangerous as a minority volunteer. If people get drunk at a bar, as usually is the case, you might be the first victim to be instigated. Above all, use common sense.
Monday, January 1, 2007
New Year
Argh!!! My sharp bush knife dropped, thankfully not severing any of my fingers or toes while on its twelve foot descent down towards the sandy beach. That would have been a bad start to a New Year. I pushed the thought away and focused on the task at hand. The coconuts were just another foot out of reach, but since my blade decided to follow gravity at the worst possible moment, I was unable to claim my green treasures.
Twelve feet doesn’t seem far, but when you’re hacking into the resistance of the trunk of a tree every foot with your knife, then hauling yourself up a few mere inches, only to repeat the process again until you reach the top, it becomes quickly tiring.
The last time I had tried to climb a coconut tree was in Uoleva where I miserably failed to ascend (almost as badly as my pronunciation of Uoleva). There, I had done what my body instinctively told me to do; I hugged the tree with dear life, with the thoughts that if I fell, no one could really help me (since the earliest medical care that could arrive would be more aptly measured in weeks than days)
The fear caused me to hug too closely and thus fail in the vertical expedition up that blasted tree. (When you hug too close to the tree, you use a lot of inner thigh muscle, one of many underdeveloped muscles in my body.) For that trip, we had to improvise and poke the coconuts out of the tree with a long stick. That tactic only proved moderately successful. I had to change my tree climbing style if I were to be truly successful at surviving island life.
Now, I learned of my past follies. I didn’t have any less regard for my life, but instead I developed a more refined technique of climbing coconut trees. In order to climb the tree, I had to extend my back further out. I changed my style so that it allowed the use of more muscles, some of which I had even been developing from going to the 'gym'. I climbed without the knife this time, remembering that I could simply twist the coconuts off their stems. The knife only caused me to expend more energy so I dropped the dead weight.
Before I knew it, I was at the top of the tree and four coconuts were sitting on the bottom. I took a quick glance over the small island and it gave me a spectacular view of the surrounding islands. There was the swift channel that a few friends and I had swam / kayaked out with our camping supplies.
These people were the type of people you wanted to go camping with. If camping were a sporting event, these would be your first draft picks. Along with their expert knowledge in wildlife, their sound common sense, and their uplifting attitudes, they also did all the planning and decided what supplies to bring. You can’t go wrong there!
The food was excellent; their camping food was better than the best of my home cooked meals. Their company was great; I just can’t imagine a better way to start off the New Year in Ha’apai. A fellow camper even caught and released a small shark, that’s got to be a good sign! (It's so hypocritical for humans to blame sharks for eating us when there's so many of us that eat them)
Words can’t really describe how unfortunate it is that the two fellow volunteers would be leaving soon though. Even if they didn’t arrange trips, or make the best meals in Tonga, their down to earth personalities suggested that they would still be first round picks in camping.
To say the least, it’ll be tough without them here. With all of the unfortunate events in Tonga over the past year, with the earthquake, the hurricane, and the death of their best friend/fellow Peace Corps volunteer, I hope that this New Year could fare much better for them.
I like to believe in Karma and with their unselfish acts of improving the current program for future volunteers, I think they have lots of good events coming their way. Here’s to change and lots of coconuts!
Twelve feet doesn’t seem far, but when you’re hacking into the resistance of the trunk of a tree every foot with your knife, then hauling yourself up a few mere inches, only to repeat the process again until you reach the top, it becomes quickly tiring.
The last time I had tried to climb a coconut tree was in Uoleva where I miserably failed to ascend (almost as badly as my pronunciation of Uoleva). There, I had done what my body instinctively told me to do; I hugged the tree with dear life, with the thoughts that if I fell, no one could really help me (since the earliest medical care that could arrive would be more aptly measured in weeks than days)
The fear caused me to hug too closely and thus fail in the vertical expedition up that blasted tree. (When you hug too close to the tree, you use a lot of inner thigh muscle, one of many underdeveloped muscles in my body.) For that trip, we had to improvise and poke the coconuts out of the tree with a long stick. That tactic only proved moderately successful. I had to change my tree climbing style if I were to be truly successful at surviving island life.
Now, I learned of my past follies. I didn’t have any less regard for my life, but instead I developed a more refined technique of climbing coconut trees. In order to climb the tree, I had to extend my back further out. I changed my style so that it allowed the use of more muscles, some of which I had even been developing from going to the 'gym'. I climbed without the knife this time, remembering that I could simply twist the coconuts off their stems. The knife only caused me to expend more energy so I dropped the dead weight.
Before I knew it, I was at the top of the tree and four coconuts were sitting on the bottom. I took a quick glance over the small island and it gave me a spectacular view of the surrounding islands. There was the swift channel that a few friends and I had swam / kayaked out with our camping supplies.
These people were the type of people you wanted to go camping with. If camping were a sporting event, these would be your first draft picks. Along with their expert knowledge in wildlife, their sound common sense, and their uplifting attitudes, they also did all the planning and decided what supplies to bring. You can’t go wrong there!
The food was excellent; their camping food was better than the best of my home cooked meals. Their company was great; I just can’t imagine a better way to start off the New Year in Ha’apai. A fellow camper even caught and released a small shark, that’s got to be a good sign! (It's so hypocritical for humans to blame sharks for eating us when there's so many of us that eat them)
Words can’t really describe how unfortunate it is that the two fellow volunteers would be leaving soon though. Even if they didn’t arrange trips, or make the best meals in Tonga, their down to earth personalities suggested that they would still be first round picks in camping.
To say the least, it’ll be tough without them here. With all of the unfortunate events in Tonga over the past year, with the earthquake, the hurricane, and the death of their best friend/fellow Peace Corps volunteer, I hope that this New Year could fare much better for them.
I like to believe in Karma and with their unselfish acts of improving the current program for future volunteers, I think they have lots of good events coming their way. Here’s to change and lots of coconuts!
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