Before My Bowels are Overcome with Southern Food...

Well, dear friends, as I depart tomorrow for a choreographical layover bonanza, this will be my last post in Tonga in 2011!
I'm sure once I've overcome jet-lag and have stopped shoving food in my eager face, I'll post something about my appetite, bodily functions, and my reaction to traffic.
Until then, I bid thee farewell! Kilisimasi Fiefia and have a wonderful holiday!

Just for kicks and giggles, here's a holiday picture card that Kaitlin and I had planned on making but then she left for New Zealand and so I just HAD to use my toddler drawing skills to create it via animation.
Enjoy!

Jamie and the Obnoxious List of Happiness

I just finished “Hector and the Search for Happiness” by Francois Lelord, a French psychiatrist who travels around the world and writes interesting philosophy in a self-help slant. But it’s not like reading Rick Warren or anyone else who sells their brand of philosophy/religion like the newest cleaning product on a Billy Mays infomercial. Lelord’s storytelling is like gelato—not so full of processed shenanigans, lite in form, but completely rich in flavor.
Anyway, in the book, Hector takes a much-needed holiday from France through China, Africa, and the States (referred to as the Land of More.) He observes people and asks them if they’re happy and why/not. His own experiences provide many of his lessons/observations, and he writes a list of learned lessons in his notebook.
So in the spirit of happiness, I’ve decided to make my own list of causes of happiness I’ve experienced from yesterday alone.
1. Happiness is getting a sweaty hug and kiss from the 2011 Tonga Triathalon Champion, who is one of my best friends. The smell went away eventually.

2. Happiness is having a pleasant flavor-surprise in your chicken Panini. (Like pineapples and a yummy tangy sauce, and mayonnaise not tainted with strange combinations of ketchup and other condiments.)
3. Unhappiness often happens when one feels uncomfortable; for example, when one prepares to go to a “Palangi” beach, which is closed, and then goes to a crowded Tongan beach and is unprepared with proper swim attire.

4. Happiness is a watermelon-eating contest, preceded by a seed-spitting contest, followed by a rind-chucking contest.

5. Happiness is an unexpected tuna sandwich with cheese.
6. Happiness can be experienced while making fun of an offensive rap song that makes you unhappy.

7. A refreshing breeze and a sun-kissed face cause happiness.
8. Soul Food Seasoning is the product of someone who knows how to make people happy.
9. If everyone made a “Soul Food” dinner once a week, we’d all be happy at least once a week.

10. “Soul Food” quiche makes a happy dinner with happy bellies.
11. Cornbread makes anything happy.
12. Salad is also soul food, which makes us happy in mind and body.
13. Sharing love of music is a fruitful way to make friends; music makes everyone happy.
14. Acquiring 5-weeks-worth of Christmas songs is a cause of happiness—especially in preparation for going home, where the weather will be COLD!!!!!!!

Life in a Comic Strip

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Faka-Malo, Illustrated

Though I begrudgingly biked to work, tempted to call in sick so I could celebrate Thanksgiving faka-America, I feel like being faka-cheesy in writing some little snippets on things I’m glad to have in my life. And since I’ll be in Clean Life in 19 days, I’m writing just as many thankfuls. Hopefully the illustrations will keep this from being as excruciating as those sappy inspirational novels.
*Please note that these aren't particularly in order of importance. Except for #1. And #4, too.
#19: The unbelievable friendships I’ve made here totally rock my socks. So when I can’t wear boots, I love rockin’ socks.

#18: The technologically communicative world. Luckily, I’m in an age where most PCVs have cell phones (we were provided with one) and access to internet. Even more luckily, I have internet at work. Thank God I can keep in touch with my family!
#17: I’m thankful Cat can maneuver herself out of my walls. Since I’ve made her an outdoor cat, she instantly climbs up my screen door, into my roof, and meanders across my ceiling and down my walls to centralize her obnoxious meowing into none other than my bedroom. When I realized she might be stuck, my first thought was, “Great. Now she’ll die and it’s a stinky mess I won’t be able to clean up.” I’m such a great mom.

#16: The diversity I’ve encountered in Tonga has helped me to grow leaps and bounds. Even outside the diverse realm of Peace Corps, I’ve made friends of various backgrounds, ethnicities, religions, yada yada. This is the best way I’ve adopted acceptance into my character. Acceptance is probably my favorite virtue.
#15: Though I’m trying my best to know what goes on in the world and in the MotherLand, I am overwhelmingly thankful to live away from the foul political mess in the States. Maybe Tonga’s government is slightly corrupt, and maybe democracy will take a long time, but the campaigning bandwagon BS is a sliver of a fingernail compared to the big, strangling hand of American politics

#14: I’ve never been much of a fish despite my astrological sign, but the sea has been one of the biggest spiritual-inducers for me. I look into that big sashaying mass of depth, mystery and moods, and I just feel how wonderful God is. Every day I appreciate the power of creativity more and more.
#13: Sprite. Imported from Fiji, it’s made with real sugar and not corn starch! Woohoooo!

#12: Polynesian music and vocal harmonies. You’ve never heard anything like it—I promise.
#11: The Peace Corps staff is one of the friendliest groups of people I’ve ever met. Despite all my brain lapses (like forgetting paperwork), mishaps (falling while on a hike thus hurting my arm), and misfortunes (stupid lice), they’ve been nothing but a fun-loving, laid-back family.
#10: I have never been more proud or reminiscent of my Kentucky culture. When I have a vocal slip into countrified speech or southern colloquialisms, rather than covering my mouth, I just ‘grin like a ‘possum’ and say, “That’s right. I said it!” (*Note: grin like a ‘possum is a Teddy quote. He’s my dad )

#9: Praise be to Sisu that I’ve yet to get creamed by a motor vehicle while I’m riding my rickety bicycle that is slowly falling apart.
#8: I’ve never been more surrounded by positive, confident, powerful, lovely women. I recently had an epiphany that it was time I owned my womanhood, and these women help me embrace that.
#7: Government-provided health insurance. Best use it while it lasts!
#6: Living in ‘Eua for 7 months was one of the biggest growth experiences for me—I matured many moons by enduring hardships (and celebrating victories) in an outer village. Running water wasn’t the most consistent of amenities and I didn’t have a running toilet, but there I realized that my service here wasn’t about martyrdom. It was about relationships. People. Communication. Patience. Going with what I’m given.
#5: Voices. You know when you’ve moved into your own apartment or maybe you’re on a short holiday but you don’t feel well or have had a bad day? Sometimes to get out of that pit, all you need is a voice. On a lighter note, my entire family is notorious for impersonations…oh, how I miss my brother’s “Harry Carey”, my dad’s “Cookie Monster”, my mom’s late-night-slap-happy fit of giggles, my sister’s motivational speaking abilities, and the adorable, squeaky sopranos of my two nieces.

#4: Peanut Butter.

#3: Life options. I’m a single female in her early 20’s and I’m living on an island. For my next adventure, I could be a hippie in Portland, do grad school in Wyoming (huh?), tutor in Italy, meander through Southeast Asia where I’d meet the love of my life and get happily plump on awesome food, or write myself into insane and slightly self-centered oblivion. Yay opportunities!
#2: Music. The richness, the variety, the way it calls to my inner shreds of being beyond human. I’m often skeptical about praying (in a traditional sense,) and music has given me the conversational ability to express what I need and to enjoy the artwork of others.
#1: My family has done everything they can to get me home, never wavering in enthusiasm and determination. That is definitely the most beautiful gift this year. Love is brilliant.
So now that you’ve finished my cheese-fest, spread it around. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, eat yourself to a divine stupor, hold the hands of people you’d otherwise long for, embrace the opportunity to relax with family, and don’t even think about Black Friday shopping until the turkey, the cranberry sauce, the mashed potatoes, and all the pumpkin pies are only to be remembered by your grateful stomach or an occasional, sneaking burp.

The Apples of my Eye: Boots, Coconuts, Boots...

I’m coming to realize how little I write about Tongan culture. Living in the capital, things are much more westernized than outer villages or other islands. I live in what could be considered a neighborhood, but I don’t really talk to my neighbors.
Anyway, this whole no-culture realization came this morning when I realized I wanted to blog about how excited I am to wear boots when I’m home for the holidays.
Who blogs about wearing boots?

Okay, maybe it’s acceptable because my feet are definitely getting flatter from wearing flip-flops 24/7, and my eager feet are itching to be fully surrounded by warm, fun structures, but still.

So before I spiel about the holidays, my excitement, my countdown for going home, and my boot addiction (and no, not the shiny devil’s-pitchfork type), I will recant 3 cultural observations and/or stories I’ve experienced in my 13 ½ months of service.
1. Tapa. This is one of the biggest Tongan/Polynesian crafts that can bring in generous income. In ‘Eua (and sometimes even here) I’d wake up to a thwack, thwack, thwack at between 6:30-7am. The first two weeks in my tiny village, I assumed someone was building a house until the weeks turned into months. I finally got curious and asked Vea, my papaya-jam-making maestro, to teach me how to make tapa. The process is quite long, vigorous and tiring, but my role was with tutu, where tree bark (after soaking) is beaten with a thick, square-shaped mallet. The mallet has indentions to help widen the fibrous mark into a mat-like material. Then, the ladies make a root-crop paste to attach the strips of newly-beaten fabric together. After the tapa dries, women use natural dyes (reds, browns, and black) to paint traditional Tongan designs for any occasion. These are often presented at weddings, funerals, departures, etc. And much to my delight, I recently met an 80-year-old woman who only speaks Tongan and will let me help her with tapa! Yay!

2. Carving is another beautiful craft here. From war mallets to huge Polynesian sculptures, many wood- and bone-carvers are quite successful here. I’m not a jewelry person, but I will bear Christmas gifts of awesomely-carved things!
3. The coconut is the most fruitful of trees. Ever. A coconut tree is good for everything! You can build a traditional house, weave baskets and hats (and even a porch!), make a broom, you have a never-ending supply of pig food (they love old coconut husks), and, most importantly, a coconut is the most satisfying beverage you’ll ever have. Ever. In the whole wide world!

I suppose the capital has caused me to become spoiled in all things Peace Corps. I have internet at work, I live close to the office/town, I have access to everything I need, and my friends are close. But just as I often forget the beauty of rolling, Kentucky hills, I also forget the greatness of Tongan culture.
So as I’m rocking my boots back in Clean Life in supermarkets, restaurants, or even my own bed (I may even sleep in them…I just love boots,) in my 3-week separation from all things Tonga, perhaps I’ll miss something from here. The sea breeze, Cat, the ease of transportation, the proximity of friends, the absence of the 2012 elections, and the many foods that can be made with coconut.

'If the world was perfect, it wouldn't be." --Yogi Berra

Lately I’ve been highly reminiscent of baseball. It’s been sunny and breezy the last few days, and I miss the smell of broken-in leather. I miss playing catch or even tossing under-hand to remember how good it feels to rekindle my flame of pitching. Well, until my shoulder catches on fire, my elbow gets shooting pains, and my hand goes numb. One of those love-hate relationships, I suppose.

Starting this past weekend, a large chunk of Group 75 bid farewell to the Kingdom and returned to Clean Life. This week, I’ll say goodbye to 2 more; next week, 3(ish) more, and on and on until I leave for a 3-week Christmas holiday with my family and return with only the remnants of the faithful Group 76.
But I keep remembering my first two months in this country. We 76’ers basked in the beachy glory of Ha’apai, greeted by 4 anxious (and at first, we thought slightly crazy) volunteers who hadn’t had much Palangi interaction in what seemed a while. Their excitement to see us was astounding—they had already read our resumes, stalked our Facebooks, browsed through our pictures… (desperate much?)

But now, 13 ½ months in and with no new group this year, I understand. Group 75 said it was nice to have new faces, new characters, new ideas; and all this brought back motivation to be a successful volunteer.
Our predecessors were overly-enthusiastic to share ideas, details, advice, and creative tips like how to explain Bloom’s taxonomy via sea metaphors.

Even with the exhaustive levels of understanding (from pre-school activities to educational methodology,) a combination of excitement and motivation from both the PC staff and volunteers created a wonderful, positive environment for us newbies. Our group 76 dynamic was pretty amazing (we couldn’t be more relaxed or open with one another,) and that alone solicited praise and excitement from PC Tonga. Now, I still feel that group bond, but the combination of island fever, separation, and sadness from seeing my friends leave makes me feel far from motivated.


I’m currently three weeks away from good ol’ Kentucky and I’m banking on THAT to be my motivation. Many of us are winding down the year with stagnant jobs or school days cut short; we’re making plans for the holidays and buying Christmas presents for our families, but until our own short departures, we’re all waiting in the dugout, punching the familiarities of our gloves, eyeing the bats with hopeful wonder, and cheering on our teammates who finally get to go up and take a swing.

I Put the Bla in Blasé

Clearly, it's been a rainy few days. Let me make clear that I LOVE the rain--in my world, rain trumps sunshine any day unless I'm doing laundry or have an amazing hair-day. (Nah, omit that last part. Even on an amazing hair-day I love rain. Though laundry is serious business.)
So I've embraced the start of the rainy/cyclone season by absorbing the weather mood and adopting it as my own.
This means: I only want to sleep, watch movies, read books, drink coffee, and cuddle with my cat. Except for my cat smells like 7 different levels of death and is covered in fleas.
Cat now hates the shower--not only has it also slightly flooded due to the outside water elevation (seriously), but I gave her an intense bath last night and doused her in flea treatment. She was NOT a purring, happy kitty. She became a shivering, wiggling, ball of stink that smelled like Oil-Spill casualties meets the Garden of Eden. (Or dead fish+Herbal Essences. Same thing.)

Sure, she's still adorable and teeny, but after work, when I want to collapse on my 70s retro couch and watch something while cuddling my cup of coffee, I have to mop. EVERY DAY. I wipe up her poop, mop the floor(s), feed her, and bitterly wish I could never smell that god-awful stench of feline waste.

I just want to enjoy this rain. Sigh.