Greetings from one of the smallest islands in the Kingdom of Tonga. It is part of the Niuas, the northern most island group in the chain and it is so small and remote it is excluded from one of our charts of Tonga. The Tsunami hit it last year. The few houses and community structures it had then were severely damaged. Many villagers are living in tents and tin shacks. Just last week a shipment of lumber and corrugated tin sheets arrived on the supply ship from the capital Nuku'alofa (almost one year after the fact.) Pallets of material are stacked on the small warf. The few pick up trucks on the island arrive from time to time to load up the building supplies and stage them in one of the three villages on the island. Time to rebuild.

Eric was here last September just before the Tsunami hit and he is amazed at the devastation. Despite the tragedy, the citizens of this island are a cheerful lot. We joined them today for song and dance at the highschool a mile up the road from the warf. We walked most of the way there, before getting picked up by a truck; the way home we scored a ride right off the bat and the kids were so pleased. It is a blast to ride in the back of a pick up truck - no seatbelts no car seats.

Last night we learned that the Niuatoputapu men's chorus was performing their songs for the school kids and community at the highschool at 11am. What luck! The chorus will compete in a national contest in a few weeks down in the capital. I've mentioned this before, but what I love about island communities is the many roles that one person can play in their neighborhood. The banker is a guitar player. The diesel mechanic dances. The school principal is also the choir director. I don't know if these exact roles were present in the choir we saw today, but the men were clearly being celebrated for their talent and I would guess that every single man over marrying age was part of the choir. The audience consisted of women and babies, young men, school children and about 20 white-skinned people from the sailboats in the harbor. We were telling our kids that if you live in an interesting place, the world comes to your doorstep. We sailors hailed from the US, France, Germany, and Switzerland.

Once each song had been sung at least 3 times and at least 4 of the men had given lengthy speeches, the older females in the audience were inspired to get up and dance their way to the stage. To much hooting and cheering, they stuffed Tongan dollars (pa'anga) into the choir director's lei. Later when the young female dancer came out to dance her dance yet again, even more old women danced up to her and stuck dollars to her skin - she was covered in coconut oil. When I asked one of the locals the significance of this, I was told that when people like the dancing or singing they stuff pa'anga to show their appreciation. This tiny little island in the middle of the ocean shares some of the same customs one might find at home at weddings and other cultural institutions. As much as travel highlights our differences, it really calls out our common denominators.

We'll wait here for a few days - the anchorage has good holding and the winds are forecasted from the south for the next while (the direction we'd like to head to get to Va'vau another of the Tongan groups.) We are getting some schoolwork done in the mornings and the kids like to swim around the boat in the afternoon. No reason to get moving yet.

PS. One of my favorite Tongan words is "Fakalakalaka." I discovered it on one of our receipts. It means "development" as in Development Bank.