Sorry. Internet on 'Eua is faka-inconsistent (faka in Tongan is 'like'). We had a torrential pissing storm for a week--the effects of the cyclone that went to New Zealand. It felt totally appropriate because I had a poopy two weeks. I felt like poo, my school was... faka-frustrating, I almost passed out in class, I am still veggie-starved, migraines are becoming more prevalent, and some students are faka-ridiculous.
But I'm now in the capital for a workshop, and will have an awesome break.
Anyway, this is boring. Any news? Not much.
1. My friend Kim got shouldered by a van today on the road. I guess she wasn't walking fast enough, which is ridiculous because she could blow away those old women who speed walk around big malls, so the van "nudged" her forward. Stupid.
2. My Creative Writing Class will start after break! I'm so excited! I have the introduction to my 'curriculum' typed. Also related, I'm becoming involved in "Children Writing for Children." It's a contest where children (also aroudn the world) write stories here in Tonga, there's a competition, and then the best stories get published. In a book. It'll be awesome!
3. I've had coffee. It was wonderful.
4. I have veggies! And wheat bread! And fruit! Also wonderful.
5. Did I tell you I'm going home for Christmas? I am. And I'm pretty faka-pumped up.
6. I made a bracelet. It's a bit shoddy, but it's totally cool.
7. My hair feels as rough as a corn husk. I miss American shampoo. :(
8. Face breakouts make me feel like I'm 14 again. Uggghhh faka-frustration.
9. I think I'm dehydrated all the time. Thus the migraines and nearly-fainting episode.
10. I'm happy to be in Nuku'alofa, but I totally miss the 'Eua hills. A lot.
I promise to have a more interesting and mind-blowing blogpost soon. This is faka 'ofa (sad), but you'll get your fill soon.
But I am alive.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Toe Hold Kava Circle
Yes, friends, there's another.
There's a pattern to my being a tou'a. If you're new to the blog and/or unfamiliar, you should either Google 'tou'a' or look back in my blog posts for "Baby Pig Foot Kava Circle" or "Pickle Tickle Handshake Kava Circle. Then you'll understand.
So I've figured out that I"m asked to be a tou'a for a faikava (Kava circle/meeting) by my adopted Tongan town officer father when his wife is in Tongatapu. she hates that people ask me to tou'a, as most Tongan girls NEVER tou'a. They know better, I suppose. My Tongan mother is aweosme--she's independent, hilarious, and insists on speaking only Tongan to me. And she would be flabbergasted to know I've been a tou'a four times already in my village.
To be honest, I didn't think I'd tou'a 4 times in my entire service here. It's not exactly a fun experience. I sat 2 1/2 hours again, and by the end, I thanked God that I received a phone call from another PCV that gave me a reason to leave. (Unfortunately, that reason was a warning about a tsunami caused by the terrible earthquake in Japan.)
On my walk home after 10 that Friday night, it took me nearly 5 minutes before I stopped limping. Tou'as are supposed to sit on one side, with both legs tucked to the other side beneath the butt. However, since that isn't the most comfortable or practical position, I always sit cross-legged. For this reason, I always wear my longest skirts to kava circles. But my ankles feel permanently etched into the concrete floor, and my feet are numb, the ligaments in my knees feel ready to spring from their joints, and my hip bones/groin muscles SCREAM to be stretched. It's kind of miserable, actually, which is why no girl actually enjoys being a tou'a.
This time, however, was my best circle so far. Most of the men were older--the one to my left was old and hilarious.
This time I had an old married man to my left, and Fedora Hat Guy (from PTHS Kava Circle), so I was in great company. I finally let loose a little, probably from my exhaustion, and joked a lot with the men. Especially with the man to my left became very kona, or drunk. Kava-drunk isn't like alcohol drunk. I mean...it is but it's not. Men will say silly things not heard in normal conversation, but the drunk is more lethargic. They get super sleepy--especially if I pour them a cup (aka coconut shell) full of kava. Kava circles generally last from around 7:30 or 8 to well after midnight. Men come and go as they please, and tou'a's can leave at any time, too.
Anyway, I digress.
So this faikava was fun. I felt like these men were my friends, and I actually felt amused and not so bored. We were at the Wesleyan Hall, where I was the tou'a the last time before a feast. And in this hall, in the mix of crowds from Baby Pig Foot Kava Circle and Pickle Tickle Handshake Kava Circle, I noticed something quite...spectacular, really.
It's about feet. Have I ever mentioned Tongan feet before? Surely I have. A Tongan's feet are HUGE. HUGE, I tell you.
My mom has always complained about her thick, wide hands and feet. Well, darlin', you got nothin' on these people. You could boil one of these feet and nearly have the equivalent to a Christmas ham. Only maybe a bit tougher, more sinewy. And I'm sure toenails aren't pleasant.
Anyway, so a Tongan's feet are thick and flat. Many of them walk barefoot nearly everywhere, so the soles are tougher than my tennis shoes, and they have muscles EVERYWHERE in their feet. Tongans--especially/mostly the boys and men--climb a lot. Mainly coconut trees. They use their feet a lot, thus the massive size, just like their bodies. PS, a Tongan's body mass is the first or second in the world, I think. Their bone density is outrageously amazing. It's from all that stinkin' root crop they eat!
And the toes.
I want you to do an exercise. I had my sister do this while talking on the phone, just for the effect. Hold your hand out, palm down. Now stretch your fingers apart, as wide as you possibly can. Strain those fingers. Strain! As you're straining, I want you to imagine your hand is a foot, the fingers are toes. Those toes are Tongan toes. If a Tongan ever got a pedicure, she wouldn't need those foam toe separator thingies. It's from the toe muscles that I never knew existed. It's trippy.
Anyway. So I'm at the kava circle, I'm looking around, noticing all the men smoking their usual--tobacco wrapped in newspaper or leftover school paper. There's no telling what toxins they're inhaling. Some men bring matches, others bring lighters.
This is my point, people.
I suddenly noticed colorful things, slender, smooth things between Tongan toes. Aside from boils and scars from boils, there's not much else other than dirt that occupies a Tongan's foot.
Except for cigarette lighters. These men stick the cigarette lighters between their toes like you would store a cereal box on a shelf, or like you would stick a book back in its place in the library. The cigarette lighters are just chillin, stuck between two dirty Tongan toes--toes in which suffer no strain from such unusual bearings. It was as natural as sliding glasses on your face or slinging a purse over your shoulder.
Thus another inspiration for my new favorite pastime. (Nicknaming, of course.)
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present:
The Toe-Hold Kava Circle.
There's a pattern to my being a tou'a. If you're new to the blog and/or unfamiliar, you should either Google 'tou'a' or look back in my blog posts for "Baby Pig Foot Kava Circle" or "Pickle Tickle Handshake Kava Circle. Then you'll understand.
So I've figured out that I"m asked to be a tou'a for a faikava (Kava circle/meeting) by my adopted Tongan town officer father when his wife is in Tongatapu. she hates that people ask me to tou'a, as most Tongan girls NEVER tou'a. They know better, I suppose. My Tongan mother is aweosme--she's independent, hilarious, and insists on speaking only Tongan to me. And she would be flabbergasted to know I've been a tou'a four times already in my village.
To be honest, I didn't think I'd tou'a 4 times in my entire service here. It's not exactly a fun experience. I sat 2 1/2 hours again, and by the end, I thanked God that I received a phone call from another PCV that gave me a reason to leave. (Unfortunately, that reason was a warning about a tsunami caused by the terrible earthquake in Japan.)
On my walk home after 10 that Friday night, it took me nearly 5 minutes before I stopped limping. Tou'as are supposed to sit on one side, with both legs tucked to the other side beneath the butt. However, since that isn't the most comfortable or practical position, I always sit cross-legged. For this reason, I always wear my longest skirts to kava circles. But my ankles feel permanently etched into the concrete floor, and my feet are numb, the ligaments in my knees feel ready to spring from their joints, and my hip bones/groin muscles SCREAM to be stretched. It's kind of miserable, actually, which is why no girl actually enjoys being a tou'a.
This time, however, was my best circle so far. Most of the men were older--the one to my left was old and hilarious.
This time I had an old married man to my left, and Fedora Hat Guy (from PTHS Kava Circle), so I was in great company. I finally let loose a little, probably from my exhaustion, and joked a lot with the men. Especially with the man to my left became very kona, or drunk. Kava-drunk isn't like alcohol drunk. I mean...it is but it's not. Men will say silly things not heard in normal conversation, but the drunk is more lethargic. They get super sleepy--especially if I pour them a cup (aka coconut shell) full of kava. Kava circles generally last from around 7:30 or 8 to well after midnight. Men come and go as they please, and tou'a's can leave at any time, too.
Anyway, I digress.
So this faikava was fun. I felt like these men were my friends, and I actually felt amused and not so bored. We were at the Wesleyan Hall, where I was the tou'a the last time before a feast. And in this hall, in the mix of crowds from Baby Pig Foot Kava Circle and Pickle Tickle Handshake Kava Circle, I noticed something quite...spectacular, really.
It's about feet. Have I ever mentioned Tongan feet before? Surely I have. A Tongan's feet are HUGE. HUGE, I tell you.
My mom has always complained about her thick, wide hands and feet. Well, darlin', you got nothin' on these people. You could boil one of these feet and nearly have the equivalent to a Christmas ham. Only maybe a bit tougher, more sinewy. And I'm sure toenails aren't pleasant.
Anyway, so a Tongan's feet are thick and flat. Many of them walk barefoot nearly everywhere, so the soles are tougher than my tennis shoes, and they have muscles EVERYWHERE in their feet. Tongans--especially/mostly the boys and men--climb a lot. Mainly coconut trees. They use their feet a lot, thus the massive size, just like their bodies. PS, a Tongan's body mass is the first or second in the world, I think. Their bone density is outrageously amazing. It's from all that stinkin' root crop they eat!
And the toes.
I want you to do an exercise. I had my sister do this while talking on the phone, just for the effect. Hold your hand out, palm down. Now stretch your fingers apart, as wide as you possibly can. Strain those fingers. Strain! As you're straining, I want you to imagine your hand is a foot, the fingers are toes. Those toes are Tongan toes. If a Tongan ever got a pedicure, she wouldn't need those foam toe separator thingies. It's from the toe muscles that I never knew existed. It's trippy.
Anyway. So I'm at the kava circle, I'm looking around, noticing all the men smoking their usual--tobacco wrapped in newspaper or leftover school paper. There's no telling what toxins they're inhaling. Some men bring matches, others bring lighters.
This is my point, people.
I suddenly noticed colorful things, slender, smooth things between Tongan toes. Aside from boils and scars from boils, there's not much else other than dirt that occupies a Tongan's foot.
Except for cigarette lighters. These men stick the cigarette lighters between their toes like you would store a cereal box on a shelf, or like you would stick a book back in its place in the library. The cigarette lighters are just chillin, stuck between two dirty Tongan toes--toes in which suffer no strain from such unusual bearings. It was as natural as sliding glasses on your face or slinging a purse over your shoulder.
Thus another inspiration for my new favorite pastime. (Nicknaming, of course.)
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present:
The Toe-Hold Kava Circle.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Sorry for the Delay
Internet sucks here, and I'm so angry because I cannot upload the video I just put together.
Frustration!
Anyway, I've overcome my traumatic rat experience (in the library,) I'm now teaching about 3 hours a day, my Creative Writing class will start soon (!), I had an excellent birthday....hmm, what else?
People are still trying to marry me off.
I get up every morning at 6 to walk. Mom and Dad, I know you're proud.
We celebrated National Woman's Day at a college here in 'Eua... we had tons of food, played games, and just had fun. It was nice!
I just learned how to make Swedish pancakes. They're pretty awesome.
I had a Red Velvet Cake for my birthday. It's my favorite :)
I listen to music A LOT now that my computer is here! Mumford & Sons= my new favorite band.
I miss concerts.
I feel hungry a lot.
A wonderful friend from Tongatapu sent me a bottle of wine for my birthday, and I was really happy. :)
My birthday hike was amazing! See my facebook profile picture--that's in a place called Fangatave, right on the cliffs overlooking the beach.
At the end of the month, I"ll go to Nuku'alofa for TEFL training one week, and the next week is In-Service Training (IST). Gosh, it's been nearly 6 months! Holy fast time, batman!
Onion Rings. Mmmmm. I may make those tonight. I have the ingredients!
No vegetables. STILL. ARG.
My lesson planning is getting better.
I LOVE decorating for the library. It's still grody looking, so no decorations are up, but man, my school is gonna LOVE me when it all goes up! I'll be a hero.
The first thing I'll buy in Nuku'alofa: a cup of coffee. I cannot wait.
The first thing I'll buy in America: either a pair of shorts, a scandalous tank top, or a Milky Way. No, no. Make that Starbucks. I'm buying Starbucks first. Then Chick-Fil-A.
The first thing I'll buy when I go back to Belgium: Fries. Then Leonidas (the best chocolate in the world.)
That's all for now. I'm running terribly late and I still have to meet an important person, do some shopping in town, and catch the bus back to my village. Then... malolo. (Rest). Gosh, I think I need to take a second shower. I'm a sweaty mess.
Frustration!
Anyway, I've overcome my traumatic rat experience (in the library,) I'm now teaching about 3 hours a day, my Creative Writing class will start soon (!), I had an excellent birthday....hmm, what else?
People are still trying to marry me off.
I get up every morning at 6 to walk. Mom and Dad, I know you're proud.
We celebrated National Woman's Day at a college here in 'Eua... we had tons of food, played games, and just had fun. It was nice!
I just learned how to make Swedish pancakes. They're pretty awesome.
I had a Red Velvet Cake for my birthday. It's my favorite :)
I listen to music A LOT now that my computer is here! Mumford & Sons= my new favorite band.
I miss concerts.
I feel hungry a lot.
A wonderful friend from Tongatapu sent me a bottle of wine for my birthday, and I was really happy. :)
My birthday hike was amazing! See my facebook profile picture--that's in a place called Fangatave, right on the cliffs overlooking the beach.
At the end of the month, I"ll go to Nuku'alofa for TEFL training one week, and the next week is In-Service Training (IST). Gosh, it's been nearly 6 months! Holy fast time, batman!
Onion Rings. Mmmmm. I may make those tonight. I have the ingredients!
No vegetables. STILL. ARG.
My lesson planning is getting better.
I LOVE decorating for the library. It's still grody looking, so no decorations are up, but man, my school is gonna LOVE me when it all goes up! I'll be a hero.
The first thing I'll buy in Nuku'alofa: a cup of coffee. I cannot wait.
The first thing I'll buy in America: either a pair of shorts, a scandalous tank top, or a Milky Way. No, no. Make that Starbucks. I'm buying Starbucks first. Then Chick-Fil-A.
The first thing I'll buy when I go back to Belgium: Fries. Then Leonidas (the best chocolate in the world.)
That's all for now. I'm running terribly late and I still have to meet an important person, do some shopping in town, and catch the bus back to my village. Then... malolo. (Rest). Gosh, I think I need to take a second shower. I'm a sweaty mess.
Friday, February 25, 2011
A Letter to Readers
Dear Beloved Readers,
I may not know who all you are, and I hope there are many of you. Sometimes there are times where I feel like my entries are mundane and boring and not so enlightening or educating, but I want to encourage you to please... tell me about your life! I was pondering on my Tongan Life next as opposed to what we now dub as the "Clean Life." I know this sounds terrible, labeling non-Tongan life as "Clean Life", but every time I talk to people from back home, some seem reluctant to talk about their lives because it seems too "plain" as opposed to my crazy Peace Corps Tongan Pacific Island life.
Dear friends, please: I sometimes THIRST for mundane clean life, with washing machines and Starbucks coffee, regular cleaners, mosquito-free zones in the winter, houses without rats and ants and cockroaches and geicos, a bed not closed in by a scratchy mosquito net, regularly running water, normal jobs. So please. Email me, message me through my blog posts... please, let me here from you! My best days here are when I get to talk to family and friends, and when I get message updates via facebook or email from my friends and family. So please: don't worry about living a "normal" life-- I would love to hear about it! And I would love to know who you are. Are you old, young, a stranger, family? Maybe this is a selfish request, wanting to know who's reading... but I want to know who you are, what you think, what you do...
Also, I want to make 2 things clear:
1.) I don't have lice! Bre checked my hair today and it is lice-free! We think the itching might be from shampoo/conditioner buildup since bucket baths and showers don't always rinse out the stuff. But I DON'T have LICE! This is a cause for an applause or a happy dance. Speaking of dancing, I danced/tau'olunga'd 3 times last night at the konseti (concert) fundraiser... lots of money was stuffed in my shirt...I had to dig a $20 bill out of my bra. Don't think this is perverted, and please don't think I'm becoming an undercover striptease dancer. This is just Tongan life. And I made a lot of money for my PTA, dangit!
2.) Also, from my last entry, I realized that I came across as a lazy, uncleanly person--especially with the not doing laundry thing. Here, since I handwash my laundry and have to hang it to dry outside, it's hard to do my laundry during the week since I now teach in the mornings every week. Since it's hot and sticky here, laundry is best done in the morning before the heat and humidity attack. But since I teach in the mornings, it's hard to accomplish this task (usually between 1-2 hours), and especially when it rains so much. I COULD hang it up on my makeshift closet, but if it's moist and rainy outside, wet laundry inside can attrack mold and mildew stains even faster than if they're dry (many of my clothes and underwear--esp. bras--are eaten with mold). So laundry must be tackled with a strategy. I did laundry in fact this morning--and washed my underwear last night so I'd finally have panties to wear-- and as soon as I headed to my friends house, it started raining. The laundry should be read to take down tomorrow, but since it's Sunday, it's technically illegal for me to do laundry, since no one can swim, exercise, or do any type of "work" since this is such a Christian, Legalistic country.
Frustration.
Anyway, dear readers, I hope we're clear, and I hope you don't think I'm a grody young lady who wears dirty clothes and never wears underwear. Although, I must say, sometimes I go Commando just to personally express my empowerment as a female, since I must wear skirts most of the time. It's a statement, that's all.
So friends. Please. Talk to me. Tell me about your suppers and your trips to grocery stores with air conditioning, and your plain sandwiches with lunchmeat and lettuce. Oh, how I miss lettuce. And please tell me about your weekend mall trips or restaurant visits. Or your work occurrences or church happenings, community gossip or even family quarrels or awesome celebrations. As much as I love my current adventure, I also feel very withdrawn from life. The "Clean Life", as we 'Euan PCVs call it.
So don't be ma (shy)...talamai fepau'aki a e mo'ui 'a koe! (Tell me about your life!)
Malo 'aupito, (thank you very much)
Jamie
I may not know who all you are, and I hope there are many of you. Sometimes there are times where I feel like my entries are mundane and boring and not so enlightening or educating, but I want to encourage you to please... tell me about your life! I was pondering on my Tongan Life next as opposed to what we now dub as the "Clean Life." I know this sounds terrible, labeling non-Tongan life as "Clean Life", but every time I talk to people from back home, some seem reluctant to talk about their lives because it seems too "plain" as opposed to my crazy Peace Corps Tongan Pacific Island life.
Dear friends, please: I sometimes THIRST for mundane clean life, with washing machines and Starbucks coffee, regular cleaners, mosquito-free zones in the winter, houses without rats and ants and cockroaches and geicos, a bed not closed in by a scratchy mosquito net, regularly running water, normal jobs. So please. Email me, message me through my blog posts... please, let me here from you! My best days here are when I get to talk to family and friends, and when I get message updates via facebook or email from my friends and family. So please: don't worry about living a "normal" life-- I would love to hear about it! And I would love to know who you are. Are you old, young, a stranger, family? Maybe this is a selfish request, wanting to know who's reading... but I want to know who you are, what you think, what you do...
Also, I want to make 2 things clear:
1.) I don't have lice! Bre checked my hair today and it is lice-free! We think the itching might be from shampoo/conditioner buildup since bucket baths and showers don't always rinse out the stuff. But I DON'T have LICE! This is a cause for an applause or a happy dance. Speaking of dancing, I danced/tau'olunga'd 3 times last night at the konseti (concert) fundraiser... lots of money was stuffed in my shirt...I had to dig a $20 bill out of my bra. Don't think this is perverted, and please don't think I'm becoming an undercover striptease dancer. This is just Tongan life. And I made a lot of money for my PTA, dangit!
2.) Also, from my last entry, I realized that I came across as a lazy, uncleanly person--especially with the not doing laundry thing. Here, since I handwash my laundry and have to hang it to dry outside, it's hard to do my laundry during the week since I now teach in the mornings every week. Since it's hot and sticky here, laundry is best done in the morning before the heat and humidity attack. But since I teach in the mornings, it's hard to accomplish this task (usually between 1-2 hours), and especially when it rains so much. I COULD hang it up on my makeshift closet, but if it's moist and rainy outside, wet laundry inside can attrack mold and mildew stains even faster than if they're dry (many of my clothes and underwear--esp. bras--are eaten with mold). So laundry must be tackled with a strategy. I did laundry in fact this morning--and washed my underwear last night so I'd finally have panties to wear-- and as soon as I headed to my friends house, it started raining. The laundry should be read to take down tomorrow, but since it's Sunday, it's technically illegal for me to do laundry, since no one can swim, exercise, or do any type of "work" since this is such a Christian, Legalistic country.
Frustration.
Anyway, dear readers, I hope we're clear, and I hope you don't think I'm a grody young lady who wears dirty clothes and never wears underwear. Although, I must say, sometimes I go Commando just to personally express my empowerment as a female, since I must wear skirts most of the time. It's a statement, that's all.
So friends. Please. Talk to me. Tell me about your suppers and your trips to grocery stores with air conditioning, and your plain sandwiches with lunchmeat and lettuce. Oh, how I miss lettuce. And please tell me about your weekend mall trips or restaurant visits. Or your work occurrences or church happenings, community gossip or even family quarrels or awesome celebrations. As much as I love my current adventure, I also feel very withdrawn from life. The "Clean Life", as we 'Euan PCVs call it.
So don't be ma (shy)...talamai fepau'aki a e mo'ui 'a koe! (Tell me about your life!)
Malo 'aupito, (thank you very much)
Jamie
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Life: a Quick Update
-I ran out of gas for my stove last night. Faka 'ofa. It'll be PB&Js and whatever nice Tongan wants to donate pre-cooked food.
-My birthday is next Sunday. Woah. Where did March come from?
-My back is annoying right now. It started hurting on the way back from a long hike... Kim and I got lost for a couple hours, but we headed to a beautiful lookout above the cliffs near where I live. It was beautiful! But my back started spasming and doing other crazy things. My bed doesn't help... I flattened my refrigerator box and stuck it under my "mattress" to give it support so it won't sag. It helped a little. Sleeping was bad the first 3 nights.
-Teaching is getting more normal for me, though I still don't have my resources from PC yet. Few resources kinda suck... but my school now has a copier! Woohoo!
-On Saturday, my fellow Group 76ers on 'Eua and I will bury a time capsule, which will be dug up during our COS (close of service) conference in Sept/Oct. of next year. I'm pretty pumped.
-Things I've sewn: a pillowcase for a pillow, my skirt, and half a pillowcase for another pillow.
-I badly need to do laundry. I've been goin' commando for nearly a week now. (You'd be surprised how refreshing this act is on a tropical island. Even if I DO have clean underwear, I still go commando sometimes. Sorry Mom--you and Dad are probably thinking, 'Oh that child...she'll say/do anything!')
-I'm almost finished with LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring, and I love it! Why have I not read it before now? I need to find copies of the 2nd and 3rd immediately!
-I was tricked into being a tou'a (kava server) on Wednesday. I was told that a feast started at 2:30, but that I should be there at 2. I thought it was peculiar since Tongans are never told to be early anywhere... I get there at 2 in the middle of a kava circle. I was slightly pissed. ESPECIALLY when I, who had not eaten lunch out of such anticipation for this feast, sat for 2 hours in one position. That's right, 2 hours. We sat down at 4, and started eating around 4:30. Jamie was not a happy camper that day.
-Friday is a koniseti (concert, for all intents and purposes), which is actually like a dance to raise money. This time, they're raising money for the school... and to pay my electricity/water bills. This makes me feel guilty.
-My birthday is next Sunday. Woah. Where did March come from?
-My back is annoying right now. It started hurting on the way back from a long hike... Kim and I got lost for a couple hours, but we headed to a beautiful lookout above the cliffs near where I live. It was beautiful! But my back started spasming and doing other crazy things. My bed doesn't help... I flattened my refrigerator box and stuck it under my "mattress" to give it support so it won't sag. It helped a little. Sleeping was bad the first 3 nights.
-Teaching is getting more normal for me, though I still don't have my resources from PC yet. Few resources kinda suck... but my school now has a copier! Woohoo!
-On Saturday, my fellow Group 76ers on 'Eua and I will bury a time capsule, which will be dug up during our COS (close of service) conference in Sept/Oct. of next year. I'm pretty pumped.
-Things I've sewn: a pillowcase for a pillow, my skirt, and half a pillowcase for another pillow.
-I badly need to do laundry. I've been goin' commando for nearly a week now. (You'd be surprised how refreshing this act is on a tropical island. Even if I DO have clean underwear, I still go commando sometimes. Sorry Mom--you and Dad are probably thinking, 'Oh that child...she'll say/do anything!')
-I'm almost finished with LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring, and I love it! Why have I not read it before now? I need to find copies of the 2nd and 3rd immediately!
-I was tricked into being a tou'a (kava server) on Wednesday. I was told that a feast started at 2:30, but that I should be there at 2. I thought it was peculiar since Tongans are never told to be early anywhere... I get there at 2 in the middle of a kava circle. I was slightly pissed. ESPECIALLY when I, who had not eaten lunch out of such anticipation for this feast, sat for 2 hours in one position. That's right, 2 hours. We sat down at 4, and started eating around 4:30. Jamie was not a happy camper that day.
-Friday is a koniseti (concert, for all intents and purposes), which is actually like a dance to raise money. This time, they're raising money for the school... and to pay my electricity/water bills. This makes me feel guilty.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The Day of Reckoning: Tales of the Molokau Massacre
The day started a bit shoddy. I felt like poo after losing my voice in Nuku'alofa, and it was my first morning of gladly waking up in my own bed. (Nuku'alofa was nice, but by the end, I was ready to get back. That city just isn't my favorite, and I was tired of spending money.)
Anyway, so my body feels completely weak and incapable of performing such medial tasks as rolling to the left, lifting up the mosquito net, and ascending into morning life. But I did it, eventually. I needed to lesson plan anyway, since I went to bed so early on Wednesday due to sickness and the need for a night of sleep without earthquakes or a full-day agenda. (We've had a lot of earthquakes lately.)
ANYway, I eat breakfast, teach, and come back to the dishes from the morning and the night before... I'm always anal about dishes, but I was soooo tired and sickly. But it was a bad choice.
I can't explain to you the number of ants--not the tiny scurrying ones, but the reddish ones with spidery long legs. They were lined up like militia on the edges of my bowls, pots, pans, forks, spoons... no joke, there were hundreds. When it comes to ants in Tonga, hundreds is hardly an exaggeration.
Fortunately, I used the rest of the red-bottle Mortein, the insect-killer here in Tonga, the one that kills on-the-spot. I drowned the rest. I finished killing them in about 15 minutes and decided it was a sign to do the dishes.
The rest of the day was hazy. By 10 I was asleep again...which is a big sign that I'm sick, since I'm incapable of taking naps, and I woke up at 1 when a PC lady called me to tell me that the rest of my purchases from Nuku were on the way in the boat. Great. Another trip to town when all I want to do is sleep or possibly remove my inflamed throat glands.
When I returned home with my 3 boxes, I was so excited to get my new things... I had a new energy now--one that wanted to clean and arrange new food, organization tools (God knows I need that) and other items to make my house feel more homey.
First, though, was the Black Mortein. This is the atomic bomb of insect killer, only you spray it along walls, floors, etc. and it kills any insect (except ants, for some reason) that crosses it for 6 months. And it works, too. So I covered my house with a happy sense of accomplishment. The only cockroach I would see in 6 months would be a dead one. Yesssss.
I start cleaning out my cockroach-poo infested cabinets to line with leftover floor linoleum when the first emerges. It's a medium-size cockroach and it's struggling. I kill it quickly, but the guts shoot about 10 inches across the floor. Luckily I just bought paper towels and all-purpose cleaner. Problem solved. Then a poor baby geico suffered the Mortein activation, and then another cockroach, and I swept them outside. A third cockroach emerged by my cabinet and I decided to get a shoe from my room to smash it. I walked through the kitchen, stopped mid-living-area and contemplated just taking off my own flip flop rather than dirtying the sole of another. I stepped back in hesitation...
on a squishy long-ish thing.
At first I thought, "Oh no, I just stepped on a poor dead geico...I don't want them to die!"
And I looked down at the writhing, wriggling, spiny, and terrible creation of...
the molokau.
It was sick from the Mortein dosage, but it was the most intimidating, ugly thing I've ever seen. Opposed to the picture, it was a yellowish-red color, at least 4 inches long, and I stepped on it! Luckily, my shoe was still in place, and it was too sick to wrap over my toes. It would've hurt like a mother... molokau stings are pretty serious here. You can die if you don't handle the sting properly.
Needless to say, I screamed. It was a hoarse, broken, embarrassing scream, which I repeated after the biggest noted cockroach in my house flew kamikaze-style at my head until I deflected it with the broom with which I had just swept away the remains of the molokau and a dead wasp.
I was done.
I took my broom, sat it in my room, hauled my scared self into my bed, and tucked in the mosquito net as tight as it would go.
I needed to NOT see bugs for a few minutes.
Then I realized, "Shoot, my front DOOR is open, which means random people might come into my house, but then they'll see the mess in my kitchen, but I don't want to go into the war zone to shut my door because I don't want to see another molokau or kamikaze cockroach or a poor dead geico...I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this!"
Eventually, I calmed myself, shut the door, and found only baby cockroaches on the floor. Luckily, some students came over to exercise, so we walked through the village and talked about life. It was nice to get away and to chill with the kids. I told them my story and the "trouble maker" of the classroom--the one whose mouth I wanted to sew shut--gave me a high five and said, "Good, Jame!" I felt proud.
Anyway, eventually I will post the video I took of the live molokau... it's pretty cool/scary/realistic. And the day turned out great, to be honest. The massacre motivated me to clean my house and start organizing things differently. By the end of the night, I had begun sewing my own skirt (I'm almost finished now... Mom, I know you're glowing with pride!), and I'm planning on using other material for seat-pillows in my kitchen.
Self-sufficient, that's me!
Oh mighty molokau-killin', cockroach-defeatin', skirt-sewin', pillow-makin', house-cleanin' Seini, the new Tongan woman.
Rosie the Riveter would shine my shoes.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tales of the Mui Mana
(experienced in late November with my amazing host family in Ha'apai.)
Setting: Ha'apai, Tonga, November 2010, I am eating at the kitchen table, my host mom, dad, and brother are in the living room. A wall separates us.
I am eating a delicious concoction of french fries (with Del Monte ketchup) and a wonderful bowl of pele (like spinach) and moa (chicken), cooked in a coconut sauce. It's one of my favorite meals, and I am feeling sleepy, though I'll soon go to another Trainee's house for a movie night. I won't make it through the movie, as usual. In fact, I think I fall asleep after 20 minutes. We attempted Lord of the Rings at 9pm and we were conked out by 9:30.
I digress. So I am quietly enjoying my meal, not paying attention to high-pitched hehe's of my Tongan father, a massive policeman with arms twice the sighs of my thighs, covered in tattoos. He's ripped and looks like a total bad-ass. But when he laughs, as all Tongan men do in their girly hehe's, he always reveals a slight gap between his teeth and looks nearly adolescent. It's funny.
Anyway, so they're all giggling, I'm off in Jamie-land, vainly wishing that Heinz would ship to Tonga and that the toilet would flush better, since all this oil and root crop gives me lots of poo pains. I've only walked in on one family member using the bathroom. Apparently Tongans have diarrhea a lot--someone asked, when a Trainee complained about diarrhea, "Don't you have diarrhea all the time in America?"
The volunteer replied, "Uhhh, NO...diarrhea is like a sickness."
"Oh," the Tongan replied, "Really?"
Anyway, so there's giggling, Del Monte ketchup, and I'm feeling full already. I slowly chew my lukewarm french fries, and suddenly. It happens.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!
Incessant giggling, and I cannot help but laugh my obnoxious laugh that I try to never let escape. I can't hold it back. After all, I didn't fart, and up til now, I hadn't heard anyone in my family fart, so it was a big deal.
I laughed. They laughed more. Then I laughed more. Then they laughed louder and louder until I walked in and we all collapsed with laughter. I looked at the gap-and-all-gaping mouth of Manase, my Tongan dad, and I knew he was the guilty party.
My mom explained that my brother, 13, and my dad were play-fighting and Manase decided to fart on my brother.
A few weeks before, my brother commented on a little girl's accidental fart as we watched TV, and since he couldn't think of the English word for fart, and I didn't hear the poor girl, he said, "Her back....her back SHOUTED!"
So this whole gas thing in Tonga is pretty funny.
Then, my mom says, "Sound like THUNDER!"
"OhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I said, "Mui mana!"
For all intents and purposes, my dear friends, mui mana means "butt thunder." People don't usually talk about arses here, as its impolite, but in an intimate family setting, I decided to take a chance and pull out the Fart-joke card.
Card well played, because from then on, Manase became "Mui mana."
On my next-to-last day with my family, we went to town to eat our last ice cream cones together and buy groceries. We stopped by Manase's work at the Police Station, and as we left, my mom and sisters said, "Say it Shay-mee, say it!"
In Tonga, when you leave and everyone else says, you say, "Nofo 'a!" (Nofo means stay). When you stay and someone else goes, you say, "'Alu 'a!" ('Alu means go.) If you say goodbye to someone in particular, you say, "(name) 'e! and the person replies, "Io!" (yes). It takes a while to learn.
So anyway, I swallowed my courage, and as the flatbed truck pulled onto the dilapidated road, I shouted,
"Mui Mana, 'e!"
and I heard guffawing, high-pitched he-he's from the police station as we females giggled all the way home.
Setting: Ha'apai, Tonga, November 2010, I am eating at the kitchen table, my host mom, dad, and brother are in the living room. A wall separates us.
I am eating a delicious concoction of french fries (with Del Monte ketchup) and a wonderful bowl of pele (like spinach) and moa (chicken), cooked in a coconut sauce. It's one of my favorite meals, and I am feeling sleepy, though I'll soon go to another Trainee's house for a movie night. I won't make it through the movie, as usual. In fact, I think I fall asleep after 20 minutes. We attempted Lord of the Rings at 9pm and we were conked out by 9:30.
I digress. So I am quietly enjoying my meal, not paying attention to high-pitched hehe's of my Tongan father, a massive policeman with arms twice the sighs of my thighs, covered in tattoos. He's ripped and looks like a total bad-ass. But when he laughs, as all Tongan men do in their girly hehe's, he always reveals a slight gap between his teeth and looks nearly adolescent. It's funny.
Anyway, so they're all giggling, I'm off in Jamie-land, vainly wishing that Heinz would ship to Tonga and that the toilet would flush better, since all this oil and root crop gives me lots of poo pains. I've only walked in on one family member using the bathroom. Apparently Tongans have diarrhea a lot--someone asked, when a Trainee complained about diarrhea, "Don't you have diarrhea all the time in America?"
The volunteer replied, "Uhhh, NO...diarrhea is like a sickness."
"Oh," the Tongan replied, "Really?"
Anyway, so there's giggling, Del Monte ketchup, and I'm feeling full already. I slowly chew my lukewarm french fries, and suddenly. It happens.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!
Incessant giggling, and I cannot help but laugh my obnoxious laugh that I try to never let escape. I can't hold it back. After all, I didn't fart, and up til now, I hadn't heard anyone in my family fart, so it was a big deal.
I laughed. They laughed more. Then I laughed more. Then they laughed louder and louder until I walked in and we all collapsed with laughter. I looked at the gap-and-all-gaping mouth of Manase, my Tongan dad, and I knew he was the guilty party.
My mom explained that my brother, 13, and my dad were play-fighting and Manase decided to fart on my brother.
A few weeks before, my brother commented on a little girl's accidental fart as we watched TV, and since he couldn't think of the English word for fart, and I didn't hear the poor girl, he said, "Her back....her back SHOUTED!"
So this whole gas thing in Tonga is pretty funny.
Then, my mom says, "Sound like THUNDER!"
"OhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I said, "Mui mana!"
For all intents and purposes, my dear friends, mui mana means "butt thunder." People don't usually talk about arses here, as its impolite, but in an intimate family setting, I decided to take a chance and pull out the Fart-joke card.
Card well played, because from then on, Manase became "Mui mana."
On my next-to-last day with my family, we went to town to eat our last ice cream cones together and buy groceries. We stopped by Manase's work at the Police Station, and as we left, my mom and sisters said, "Say it Shay-mee, say it!"
In Tonga, when you leave and everyone else says, you say, "Nofo 'a!" (Nofo means stay). When you stay and someone else goes, you say, "'Alu 'a!" ('Alu means go.) If you say goodbye to someone in particular, you say, "(name) 'e! and the person replies, "Io!" (yes). It takes a while to learn.
So anyway, I swallowed my courage, and as the flatbed truck pulled onto the dilapidated road, I shouted,
"Mui Mana, 'e!"
and I heard guffawing, high-pitched he-he's from the police station as we females giggled all the way home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)