They Like White Meat
29 October 2012 | Niuetoputapu, Kingdom of Tonga
Lisa Anderson
View from Niuetoputapu of what we call "Hersey Kiss Island"
Oct. 7, 2012
They Like White Meat
"They like white meat." This is what I am told by the locals time and time again as I am slapping at myself and waving my arms around either like I am having a seizure or a schizophrenic attack whilst being swarmed by mosquitoes. Seriously?! I mean, seriously a mosquito can tell the difference between darker skin and mine? Exactly how much darker do I have to get?! Ben already calls me "burnt toast", and yes I do wear sunscreen... most of the time. It's just hard keeping up with the sunscreen, the bug spray etc...and when you constantly are applying it to your skin you start to break out in a rash and it just gets old feeling like a slimy, greasy, sweaty thing walking around all the time. Now, please don't let me discourage you in any way from visiting these islands and what we have experienced. The good far outweighs any negative aspects of these islands, (and by the way I got many more mosquito bites in Mexico), but it is funny that it is always me with the halo of the little blood suckers. Once again I provide the humor for my family.
So here I sit, at a restaurant/bar called Mango's in Vava 'u, Tonga, listening to the soundtrack from the movie Xanadu watching a gorgeous sunset in the most placid anchorage I think we have EVER been in. As I reflect back, the past six months of this journey seem like a lifetime. I feel like I have really lived. I have really accomplished something. I have really been somewhere. Can you honestly say, that if the big man finally decides that your life is over that you would go, "Okay, I'm ready". But it's kind of that feeling you have at this stage, this tired stage for us boaters, the stage where we can see the light at the end of the tunnel (New Zealand and five months of rest), the feeling of satisfaction that you have faced your fears head on (sometimes literally) to live your dream.
Our first stop in Tonga was the tiny island of Niuetoputapu. Population 800 (and at least the same amount in pigs running around). No electricity. Heavily damaged by the 2009 tsunami. One supply ship a month. Two stores (one in a storeroom attached to the kindergarten). THIS is the real Tonga. "Bring it on", we said, and jumped right into a week full of relationship building, fun, charity, love, and experiences to lock away into our memories forever. (I want to cry just writing this now!) This was definitely the most meaningful of stops this season because it wasn't all self serving for us. It was a chance for us to get down and dirty with the locals, provide needs and add a little joy into their everyday life. It was a chance to lighten up the load again (do we really need all this stuff?). Ben donated his 30 lbs. of Leggo's to the local kindergarten where they will be built and rebuilt for years to come. We handed out his matchbox cars to the children and helped them build ramps to race them down, (some we're 50 year old cars that were Larry's when he was young). We blew up balloons as we strolled along in the local village and the children would squeal in delight chasing after them, (see what I mean, don't you want to cry?).
As I said earlier, there are pigs EVERYWHERE. Baby ones and big ones, little ones and skinny ones, and even pregnant ones. They all just roam around freely...as well as the dogs and chickens. All of the pigs have an owner, and each owner has a special way that they call their pig...I guess if they need it to come home or they decide it's time eat them. Apparently, sometimes the pig will come home and squeal at their owner if they are hungry and want to be fed. One man I met had to show me his pig, that was absolutely GInormous and had a permanent injury to its leg, and told me the story of how after the tsunami he ran down to see the damage to his home and came across this tiny piglet that was hurt. He scooped him up and they have been best of friends ever since. You could see the love between them. This was his miracle pig and these are the kind of stories you get to hear when you come to a place like this.
The children...oh the children...never have we been to a place as of yet that they are so loving. It was easy to have three hanging on to me on each hand, or hugging me, or braiding my hair. I don't ever think I have felt so loved in my life. Then I fell in love with one girl in particular, Ma 'ata. She is twelve years old, very pretty, and apparently very smart - or so her teacher says. And she and all her friends had their eyes on Ben. He takes it so well and is such a sport! Larry and I just giggle!
On Saturday, some of us cruisers decided to throw a little spontaneous carnival for the children. We prepared cakes and cookies, and walked through the little town yelling, "Who wants to play?" I think we ended up with at least forty kids, and even the older teenagers came and joined in the volleyball game we had put up. We had music, and face painting, and played all sorts of silly games like one legged races and the water balloon toss. The "hit" game was tying a string around your waist (like a belt), then having another string hanging off the rear with a nail tied on. Then you place a bottle behind you (like a large beer or a wine bottle) having to carefully and steadily sit back, trying to get the nail into the bottle. It's challenging - you should try it! As a matter of fact, it could be a super game at a family reunion I think! The kids loved it...then Elder Jenkins showed up. Now we had met Elder Jenkins earlier, who is a nice young man doing his mission trip for the Mormon Church, (the Mormon Church has been prevalent throughout all of French Polynesia and now Tonga, even building a beautiful high school in Neiafu, Vava 'u). We really enjoyed talking with him and I wish I could have talked with him more, finding out just exactly it is that he does. Anyway, it kind of made me feel a little funny, as we danced around sillily (if that isn't a word, it should be!) giggling with the children as he stood by and watched, and of course there was always the ever present group of children squatting - trying to get the nail in the beer bottle! Oh well, this was the way we chose to show our love to the people that day, no judgments I hope!
The next morning we waited on the road for an open bed flat truck that drives around town and picks people up who are going to church. We climbed into the back with the other locals and bumped down the road to go to the Catholic service. Even though the service is in Tongan, if you are ever in this part of the world do not miss a service as the choir and the singing of the members is exquisite, melodic, and powerful, leaving you with goose bumps. But no one came up to us and said "hello". No one approached and said welcome. Even the children were very serious (not at all like at our carnival the day before), dressed in their best clothes and frilly dresses. Even the babies were dressed to the nines. Sunday is a seriously religious day for the Tongans, a day of prayer and rest. Apparently not even fishing or swimming is allowed on this day of rest.
As we sat at anchor, safely tucked in behind the reef, watching the humpback whales swim their usual route each day on the outside of the reef - occasionally getting frisky and thrusting their bodies into the air in a breach, ending in a white water explosion as their 45 ton bodies land back in the water, one after another of our friends departed heading for their next destination. But we had been invited to a feast at the school on Wednesday, which takes place once a year after the children have completed their exams, that all of the school mothers put on. How could we say no? We felt honored to have been asked. Again here was a wonderful way to donate colored paper, ink and felt tip pens, pencils, books and magazines in English (they just ate up Ben's Kids National Geographic magazines, thanks Grama Sandy and Aunt "B") as their entire library was wiped out in the tsunami. We gave Ben's old science books including all the rock samples and supplies for the chemistry experiments. The teachers were thrilled. Once again we saw the flat bed trucks, bumping down the road with these decorated two tiered wooden structures filled with the food for the feast, and then draped with lace tablecloths to keep the flies out. When we reached the school we were sat on a bench in front of the elaborate food structures, someone from the school said a prayer (I think) and then everyone lifted up the lace covering and dug in...literally...with just your hands. There was whole pig after whole pig, with coconut crab and lobsters piled on top, with small plastic boxes of octopus, or egg salad, or unidentifiable things. There were white yams that were roasted in foil, and huge slices of watermelon. Packages of cookies and chips were tied all over for decoration, and apples and sodas balanced on top. And no one said a word. They just sat there stuffing their face (literally), as school official after school official spoke (in Tongan) about - oh, I suppose - school stuff. We were kept company by the many flies buzzing us, and the starving dogs that were scrounging at our feet. It was quite an experience and quite an orgy of food for the local people as they certainly do not eat like this on a regular basis. But, when it came to poking my fingers through the pig's skin to grab a handful of its meat, I just couldn't do it. And when everyone was finished, we all stood up and the next group moved, sat down, and dug in.
What ended up being the most special part of that day was when we had the pleasure of having over two of the young teachers from the primary school, husband and wife Vea and Theresa, for dinner that night. And even better yet (was this a God thing?), when it came time to dinghy them back to shore, a fierce storm passed through and we just could not safely get them back to land - therefore they had to sleep over. They loved the bed (mattresses as we know them are not an option here for most people). They loved the Oral B toothbrushes and Colgate toothpaste I had for them, and they got to try things like Dr. Pepper, and a latte the next morning. Just watching the revelation on their face as they tried new things, things that they had seen in a movie once, was priceless. We all had a great time, and talked and talked. By the morning the weather had cleared and with tears in our eyes (Vea, the husband cried, which was explained to us that Tongan men are not even allowed to cry at their own father's funeral) we hugged and said goodbye, vowing to stay in touch - possibly even return next year.
Niuetoputapu will forever stay in our hearts. What a great first stop in the Kingdom of Tonga. With a heavy heart, and a very empty Lisa Kay (and I do mean we are absolutely out of everything!), off to Vava 'u we sail, to the land of some restaurants, grocery stores, and internet...'ish!