No Cadbury eggs, but . . .

So I was hoping to average more than one e-mail a month, but that's the track record so far. Thanks for checking up on me anyhow.



Last night I ate sea turtle for the first (and hopefully last) time. It was absolutely delicious. I'd venture to say it's the best meat I've ever had, although before living in Tonga I didn't eat meat for 2.5 years and my tastes are so skewed here anyway. But honestly, it was delicous. Very dark, rich meat, also extremely chewy, but that just meant I was able to savor the flavor for longer. I watched some of the guys bring it in on a wheelbarrow yesterday afternoon. The body was already severed from the shell and packed in ice (brought from town, we don't have ice here) in a cooler. I watched one of them (one of the teachers I work with) hack it into little pieces with a machete (the Tongan version of a Swiss Army knife). Luckily for my Western sensibilities they didn't cook the whole thing, so I didn't have to watch the head and flippers getting sliced. All the bite-size pieces were piled into the shell with some coconut cream, onion and bell pepper and cooked in an 'umu (underground oven) for an hour. Delicious. Although there were a few chunks of meat in my bowl that were decidedly turtle and decidedly mysterious - a dark blue green with a consistency like a thick jellyfish. Not so delicious.



I say I hope that was the last time I'll have to eat sea turtle, but in reality, that would only happen if 'Otea's men stopped bringing in turtles, which would only happen if the turtle population decreased so much they couldn't be found, and no one wants that to happen. So chances are I'll be eating sea turtle agin some time in my future. It's just one of those special South Pacific things I'm getting to experience. Turning down food here is really culturally inappropriate and not really an option. Especially in this circumstance where the Town Officer was offering it to me. Eating fonu (turtle) is a pretty big privilege in our village. I have to pick my battles. Community development doesn't happen by policing.



After I'd finished my portion I watched the Town Officer and several others scrape the inside of the shell with a knife to get all the bits out and tear meat off of the vertebrae. One of the women tried to get me to join her, but I declined having had my taste. Especially when she told me she'd be sitting on the toilet all the next day after eating so much ngako (fat). They knew it was my first time trying turtle so they goaded my for my opinion. I declared it ifo (delicious) and they agreed. One of the men asked me if I thought it was better than horse. Should've kept my mouth shut, but I told him I haven't tasted horse yet, initiating loud calls and chuckles. "Next we'll have to kill a horse then!" I don't think they really will, because 'Otea doesn't have many horses and they're usually saved for special occasions, but I shuddered anyway.



Now if you're shuddering while reading this, keep reading. When I left the TO's house, I stopped at my next door neighbor's on the way home. She and her husband are my great friends, two of the people I feel the most comfortable with both in their late 20's. I was in a little bit of a daze from dinner so I sat in their kitchen with them. Asked Isi, an accomplished diver and fisher) if he catches turtles often. Before tonight I'd hadn't seen one eaten in 'Otea. He said yeah, he'd caught one just this past weekend with only three flippers, but his wife made him let it go. Hurray! My heart was a little lighter after that news. I also know that Isi throws back the little reef fish he catches so they can grow big enough to fill his belly. Made a big deal out of telling him how glad I was he's thrown the turtle back and how faka'ofa (pitiful, pathetic) I think it is to eat turtles and went home with a bigger smile on my face.



Also last night: I was lying in bed reading by the light of kerosene lantern as I've gotten into the habit of doing before sleeping (right now I'm reading "Kiwi Tracks", indulging the insatiable itch I've recently acquired for tramping around New Zealand). I heard a little voice calling my name. Its owner climbed up the stairs underneath the bedroom window and I peered through my mosquito net to see a round white object held up for my appraisal. As I reached for it, Malakai, my favorite little companion among 'Otea's kids, explained that he'd found it on Monday. It'd been a holiday so the whole town had spent all day picnicking on the beach. As he scampered just as quickly off into the moonless night I discovered that I held a large, perfect sand dollar in my palm. I laid it on my bedside table, next to the tiny baby one he'd found for me that same Monday, diving down 20 feet to retrieve it while we were snorkeling together. He knows my weakness for beautiful gifts from the sea (sand dollars and sea biscuits are my favorite) and beautiful little buddies.

Speaking of this weekend, Happy Easter! I celebrated it Tongan style. It began with a Thursday night Mormon service where the preaching centered around the theme "What is love?". Afterwards we all gathered in the hall where every Mormon woman and I had baked a myriad of cakes. Every single person, old and young, received a bowl containing 4 slices of cake and no less than (and usually more) nine scoops of ice cream. None of us had any trouble finishing our portions. In fact we all went back for seconds. Ice cream is the ultimate treat when there's no refrigeration! One of the favorite Tongan flavors is Hokey Pokey, inherited from New Zealand, vanilla with bits of toffee. Yum!

Friday the Wesleyan preparations began. The Friday night service kicked off a young people's Sunday school type camp that went until Monday. Every night the boys sleep in the church hall and the girls sleep in the church. I joined them on Friday night only. Haven't quite acquired the Tongan ability to sleep on nothing but concrete all night.

Also Friday night we had rehearsal. Almost every single night this month we've (all the kids 15-22) gathered in the church hall to learn the movements (like graceful hula dancing, but just with the arms) to Christian songs, both Tongan and English. The Tongans call this kind of performing actions songs. They actually call it that in English. This Sunday will be out big show. We'll travel to the neighboring village by boat and give their Wesleyan church a run for their money (they did the same thing in 'Otea in February).

Saturday I spent all day at the church camp, just spending time with the kids and learning some new Tongan church songs. We did some Bible reading and performed skits for each other. The kids got to have their feast, which was pretty special. I sat at the head mat of course and ate the biggest lobster I've ever seen in my life, on a plate, in a tank, or in the wild. It was bigger than most newborn babies, no joke.

Sunday I went to the Mormon church service, which was the same as far as I could tell, just longer. Afterwards, tucked under the wings of one of the older women, I attended the tail end of the Wesleyan service so that we could both eat at the feast afterwards. So many different kinds of meat and some root vegetables = very happy Tongans. Roast pig, lobster, crab, raw fish in coconut cream, hot dogs, canned corned beef, fried chicken, hard boiled eggs, mini omelets and lu pulu (beef cooked in taro leaves). Whew. All the Wesleyan children were dressed all in white. I told some of the women how Catholics for Easter like to dress in pastels, which they informed me is lanu langi - the colors of the sky. I like the sound of that.

After the feast, I went to the beach for awhile to write in my journal. This has especially become a favorite thing to do on Sunday afternoons. Sundays tend to make me pretty melancholy as I watch all the families together and try so hard to understand the services, which ends up making me miss Catholicism and its traditions and community much more than I expected it to. Had a sweet tooth afterwards and I was in the midst of stirring the batter for cinnamon bread when one of the girls came to fetch me. I hadn't the minister's speech that said we were going to formally perform the action songs in full costume for the whole town. Oiaue. It's a good things I go to every practice. So we performed and it was great. It makes Tongans so happy when they see people eager to learn about their culture. Less great was the 3 hour rehearsal we endured afterwards. It's great to have such a structured way to interact with the community and show them I care, but I'll be glad when this is all over!

Monday was a fantastic day, a national holiday just like Good Friday. Everyone in the church camp spent the entire day playing on 'Otea's beach. I'd been aching to swim for days, but had been too busy. Ended up staying in the water from 10-8, joke. Even included several solid hours of snorkeling in there (found some new clownfish and their anemone!). While we were swimming one of the old old 'Otea men came paddling up in his modern kayak with a bunch of crops piled on the bow. He'd just spent three weeks with relatives in Tu'anuku, a village across the water. He unloaded his vegetables and hopped right back in! Said he had to get his clothes. When I say him again that afternoon he was returning for good and out of nowhere offered his kayak to me. I jumped at the opportunity and jumped in the kayak with another girl for a lovely jaunt to a different village across the way and some of the smaller islands to the east of 'Otea. Such a good day. Even had roasted pig for dinner in true Tongan style.

As for more traditional work: school's going much better! I'm actually achieving my difficult tasks of co-teaching and co-planning and we're going to have the library system up and running next month! That and helping the youth navigate the grant application process has kept me occupied. I think I'm starting to adjust to working slowly and painstakingly with few results. Things are starting to run a little more smoothly, and many days I really do feel at home. Now if Mom's package would only arrive with the Peeps in it . . .