Tales of a Tau'olunga Dancer

I feel that I'm being sparse on details. I'm living on a tiny island in the Pacific, have been here over three months, and I wonder if you can actually picture me here. It's a bit difficult, I'm sure, because I have posted zero pictures, but hopefully this will help. Here are my tales as a tau'olunga dancer.
First of all, tau'olunga means a solo dance. If you google pictures of Tonga, you may see women in strapless "dresses" with shiny skin. Well, my friends, I have been that woman three times now. I actually considered ditching this whole Peace Corps idea to become a professional tau'olunga dancer, but things didn't work out. However, it is fun, and if you have a sense of humor, fluid hands, and can dance with a constant smile on your face, the tau'olunga is for you.

Preparation Time:
First of all, you shouldn't be shy as a tau'olunga dancer. Women will have your clothes off in seconds, and suddenly you may find yourself being wrapped, pulled, and prodded in vala (clothes) of tapa cloth (you should Google this, because I can't explain it and I'm too much in the zone to create a link and/or research it myself) or possibly a dress of sewn leaves, Adam and Eve style. Once you are decorated with anklets, bracelets, kahoas (necklaces) and a matching kiekie, these fast-moving women can pin your hair and have the little head-band (3 Musketeers/faka-Tonga style) towering above your coiled bun and immediately get out the baby oil for skin-smothering time. They coat your neck, chest, arms, back, hands, and even legs to give your skin that shiny, sun-kissed look.
*Side note, the oil is actually so the money will stick.

Go-Time:
The band (or letio/radio) starts. The Tongan blends of guitar and ukulele (and maybe a makeshift bass...I'll put pics of this up later,) fill the room, and you softly step in 2 counts, alternating your steps with your gently curling hands. Then you bow (if you have a partner like I did, make sure you bow in sync!) and begin. After one or two verses (which the band will repeat...over and over...and over), people begin to approach you with colorful bills (the blue ones are always exciting...it's a $10!), and they aren't so shy in sticking. Some will put them under your faka-Tonga headress, others will stick them in the fold of tapa cloth beneath your pit/near your boob (I once found a $10 in my bra...and got really excited), and some will just stick the bills on your arms or back. Eventually, they will fall off, but the male dancers that dance behind us are to pick up the bills during/after the dance. When we danced at the PC Swearing-in Ceremony, we made over $80! We were ballin' that day.

When the Party's Over:
After the dance is finished, you can decide to keep the money or give it to the band. The first time, we gave our money to the woman who made our traditional Tongan apparel (see my Facebook profile picture...it's the yellow thing I'm wearing!) The second time we performed in Ha'apai, in my host village, and we gave the proceeds to the band. This last time, we kept the moolah and celebrated that night!
As for clean up, the women are just as quick undressing you as they are dressing. They get out towels and hankies to efficiently wipe off the oil, and suddenly you are fully clothed in your original get-up.

How to Really Have Fun:
Tongans love it when Palangi's (white people) do traditional Tongan things, and Tongans love humor. So: it is totally appropriate to make a fakakata (joke) while dancing. For example, during the tau'olunga with my group, in the last set of verses, I joined the boys and danced quite crazily. It creates lots of laughs and even may produce more money! :D