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.

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!

Trainees trying to leave the island

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.

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.

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.

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 =)

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?

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...

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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...

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...

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.

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.

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.