Not surprisingly, the Tongan school system is different than America’s. Almost all students attend a public elementary school, and at the end of sixth grade, they take a huge test on all their subjects: Tongan, English, Math, Science, Social Studies. Based on their scores from the test, the Secondary School Entrance Exam (SEE), they are admitted to high school (these years are called “forms;” thus, Forms 1-7).
The best students (according to this one test) are admitted to the public high schools – usually one per island group (there are 5 island groups). The lower-scoring students are admitted to religious schools – Catholic, Wesleyan, Free Church of Tongan – but they’re not required to be of the school’s religion. Families pay a modest amount for the tuition. The lowest-scoring students aren’t admitted to any high school; they can repeat sixth grade and hopefully do better on the next test, or just end their schooling. If they end their schooling, they’ll probably live at home with their parents, helping with chores, and weave, fish, or work in the bush. Sometimes, parents choose not to send students to high school, even if the student is admitted.
Since I’m an English teacher, one of my jobs is to prepare these students for the English section of this test. I rummaged through the piles of papers (including the original proposal for building the current school building from 2004-ish and workbooks from 1976) in the school to find past tests and any other resources that might be helpful for the SEE. I decided to use that test as the overall guide for my lesson planning since, ha – of course, the school doesn’t have a syllabus for teaching English. (“Does the government give you any requirements about teaching?” “Um, ‘ikai.” No.)
Fortunately, I found about 18 years worth of tests. They’re pretty comprehensive, and I’m having difficulty figuring out how to set up the upcoming year. I’m trying to brainstorm a lesson plan for these four sixth graders, while covering all these different areas, but keeping in mind that there are also fourth and fifth graders in the class. How to teach students who don’t know more than “My name is Palu” while teaching other students “You have finished fixing the boat, haven’t you?”
Other interesting things on the test include a reading comprehension section. Question: Based on the passage, why might we think Lesieli is a Christian? Correct answer: Because she runs every day of the week except Sundays.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Any Given Sunday
Many Peace Corps Volunteers find that Sundays in Tonga take some getting used to. The standard line Tongans say is lotu, kai, mohe pe – just church, eat, sleep. Sure enough, that is the schedule any given Sunday. Almost anything else is prohibited, either by law (rumor has it, in the capital city, you could get fined for riding your bike too strenuously) or custom (another PCV was scolded by neighbors for trying to do repairs in his own home).
During our time in Fangale’ounga, I went to another PCV’s house to watch the “Sound of Music” one Sunday. I invited a Tongan neighbor to come.
“Is it a religious movie?” she asked, fearful of breaking Tongan tradition of doing non-church things on Sunday.
“Uh, yeah, it’s about a nun.”
Upon finding that, although it’s about a nun, it’s not a religious movie, she left. But she seemed to enjoy “My Favorite Things.”
My Sundays in Ha’ano are much the same. Church bells first ring at 4:30am for the 5am service. I sleep on.
The main church service is around 10am. There are 4 churches in Ha’ano from which I can choose, so I pick one, take a 5 minute walk, and join the 30 or so other churchgoers inside. Church lasts an hour, and after that I go to someone’s house to kai 'umu.
An ‘umu is a traditional Tongan underground oven. Lu, the traditional Sunday dish of coconut cream with sheep/chicken/fish/beef/etc wrapped in spinach-like leaves, is cooked in the ‘umu along with a root crop. Since coming to Ha’ano, I’ve been invited to kai ‘umu with some family every Sunday.
After that, it’s taimi malolo, rest time. Usually after eating with Tongans, I’m in a food coma, so I’m more than willing to rest. Some days some Ha’ano girls around my age will come over to sit around and chat.
Around 4pm, I go to church again, mostly for something to do. It’s also a good chance to see some older members of the community – pretty much the only people who go to church in the afternoon.
After that 45-minute church session, it’s usually time to wander around the town or sit around again. People go to the porch by the dock where there’s a nice breeze.
There’s a lot of down-time on Sundays, obviously. Since I wasn’t working my first month in Ha’ano, Sundays were much like any other day, except I couldn’t swim, do laundry, go for a run, and so on.
Fortunately, I finally started work!
During our time in Fangale’ounga, I went to another PCV’s house to watch the “Sound of Music” one Sunday. I invited a Tongan neighbor to come.
“Is it a religious movie?” she asked, fearful of breaking Tongan tradition of doing non-church things on Sunday.
“Uh, yeah, it’s about a nun.”
Upon finding that, although it’s about a nun, it’s not a religious movie, she left. But she seemed to enjoy “My Favorite Things.”
My Sundays in Ha’ano are much the same. Church bells first ring at 4:30am for the 5am service. I sleep on.
The main church service is around 10am. There are 4 churches in Ha’ano from which I can choose, so I pick one, take a 5 minute walk, and join the 30 or so other churchgoers inside. Church lasts an hour, and after that I go to someone’s house to kai 'umu.
An ‘umu is a traditional Tongan underground oven. Lu, the traditional Sunday dish of coconut cream with sheep/chicken/fish/beef/etc wrapped in spinach-like leaves, is cooked in the ‘umu along with a root crop. Since coming to Ha’ano, I’ve been invited to kai ‘umu with some family every Sunday.
After that, it’s taimi malolo, rest time. Usually after eating with Tongans, I’m in a food coma, so I’m more than willing to rest. Some days some Ha’ano girls around my age will come over to sit around and chat.
Around 4pm, I go to church again, mostly for something to do. It’s also a good chance to see some older members of the community – pretty much the only people who go to church in the afternoon.
After that 45-minute church session, it’s usually time to wander around the town or sit around again. People go to the porch by the dock where there’s a nice breeze.
There’s a lot of down-time on Sundays, obviously. Since I wasn’t working my first month in Ha’ano, Sundays were much like any other day, except I couldn’t swim, do laundry, go for a run, and so on.
Fortunately, I finally started work!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Kava
Kava is the national drink of Tonga; it’s a plant, a relative of pepper, ground up and then mixed with water. It looks like muddy water and tasted only a little better. It’s supposed to have a numbing effect, but that depends on the mix, I suppose.
Our first day in Tonga, the Peace Corps held a formal kava ceremony where everyone got to try to drink. Usually, however, kava is only for men. The only time a woman is allowed to drink kava is on her wedding day, once, before the feast begins. (After my one experience, once is sufficient.) The only time a woman is allowed to go to kava, is to toua (doe {like the deer} -ah). That means she gets to sit there and fill up the kava cups for the men while chatting and deflecting their flirtations. Only unmarried women can toua, and, from what I had heard from the PCVs (and most Tongan women too) who have done it, it’s not a fun experience.
They say they sit around a lot, not understanding what’s going on, while these gross dudes hit on them. And as they drink more and more kava, sometimes it gets more obnoxious. Of course, there’s also the whole “how sexist that they would only let a woman go if she would serve the men” thing, too.
Despite others’ objections, I decided to try it out anyway. Kava is, after all, a traditional part of Tongan society, and I came here to be a part of that society, so I should at least know how kava goes. Besides, Sione and I were invited to kava on Sunday, not the “crazier” kava on Friday or Saturday night (or pretty much any night). I had a fellow palangi there with me, so I was more comfortable as I went into my first toua experience. (When there’s no woman to toua, the youngest man has to do it. Sione has been that person when he went to kava another time, so I got some tips from him before going in.)
So how was it? Boring? Sexist? Nope, I had a great time!
There were about 12 men sitting around the circle with the faifekau, or minister, at one end of the circle, and me across from him. I recognized only a few of the guys, so it was a great opportunity to get to know more of the men in the community. There were a handful of men in their 20s, and (since men are seated according to rank and age) they were seated near me. There’s only ever one toua at a kava circle, and the younger, unmarried men are allowed to sit by her, you know, for the wooing. So there were the standard questions I get asked by Tongans when I first meet them, in order of appearance:
1. Are your parents already dead?
2. Do you have a moa, a chicken or boyfriend/girlfriend, in America?
3. Are you looking for a Tongan spouse?
I don’t think Tongans ever listen or care about the answers to questions 2 and 3, since they always seem to want to show off their own/a friend’s greatest marriage-worthy qualities. (The one I heard at kava that day was, “This guy knows how to cook cake really well!” I’m not sure if that was a euphemism for something I don’t understand, but his cake-cooking abilities were brought up numerous times that day.) Even so, it was fun to joke (as best I could in horribly broken Tongan) with the group.
Afternoon church started after an hour or so at the kava circle, so Sione and I left. Though I was having a good time, it was good to leave on a high note. So here are my reflections on kava:
1. Like the PCV in Ha’ano before me said, it’s a great way to practice your Tongan. Since I’m eager to say what I want to say and not be limited by what I can say, I think that’s almost reason enough to get over objections.
2. It was a great way to meet people I’d probably otherwise not have much contact with in the community. I spend a lot of time with the women, but this was probably my first quality contact with the men.
3. It was a great way to show people in the community I’m multi-dimensional. Most of the conversations are around safe subjects: my family in America, how I like Ha’ano, what my favorite Tongan food is. But at kava, we joked about moas and getting drunk off kava (and promply passing out. “Tongan family planning,” one guy told Sione.).
4. I didn’t mind ladling kava into men’s coconut cups. I was in charge of how much everyone drank, as touas always are. For the older, more respected men, I gave them an appropriate amount. For the one guy who was heckling me (I can only assume he was heckling me – he spoke too fast for me to understand anything, which was probably his point), I gave him a completely full drink. (The men drink the kava all at once so the next person can use their cup too, so imagine gulping down a glass of dirt-water fast.)
5. The worst part was how often my feet fell asleep. We’re all sitting on the floor, but the men are cross-legged. Women are supposed to sit with their legs to one side, so I did that, but I kept switching the side to regain bloodflow to my legs. After I shifted a couple of times, the men all welcomed me to sit like them. That was a relief.
Moral of the story: I can see myself toua-ing a number of times in the future. I think I’ll get a lot out of it in terms of Tongan-language and finding that Tongan husband they keep talking about. I’ve really enjoyed the community-oriented activities with a fixed start-finish time: kava, church, kaipolas. It’s nice to be able to let the community know I want to be a part of it all, but also go back home and rest when I’m saturated with Tongan for the day. So kava seems like another way to do that.
Our first day in Tonga, the Peace Corps held a formal kava ceremony where everyone got to try to drink. Usually, however, kava is only for men. The only time a woman is allowed to drink kava is on her wedding day, once, before the feast begins. (After my one experience, once is sufficient.) The only time a woman is allowed to go to kava, is to toua (doe {like the deer} -ah). That means she gets to sit there and fill up the kava cups for the men while chatting and deflecting their flirtations. Only unmarried women can toua, and, from what I had heard from the PCVs (and most Tongan women too) who have done it, it’s not a fun experience.
They say they sit around a lot, not understanding what’s going on, while these gross dudes hit on them. And as they drink more and more kava, sometimes it gets more obnoxious. Of course, there’s also the whole “how sexist that they would only let a woman go if she would serve the men” thing, too.
Despite others’ objections, I decided to try it out anyway. Kava is, after all, a traditional part of Tongan society, and I came here to be a part of that society, so I should at least know how kava goes. Besides, Sione and I were invited to kava on Sunday, not the “crazier” kava on Friday or Saturday night (or pretty much any night). I had a fellow palangi there with me, so I was more comfortable as I went into my first toua experience. (When there’s no woman to toua, the youngest man has to do it. Sione has been that person when he went to kava another time, so I got some tips from him before going in.)
So how was it? Boring? Sexist? Nope, I had a great time!
There were about 12 men sitting around the circle with the faifekau, or minister, at one end of the circle, and me across from him. I recognized only a few of the guys, so it was a great opportunity to get to know more of the men in the community. There were a handful of men in their 20s, and (since men are seated according to rank and age) they were seated near me. There’s only ever one toua at a kava circle, and the younger, unmarried men are allowed to sit by her, you know, for the wooing. So there were the standard questions I get asked by Tongans when I first meet them, in order of appearance:
1. Are your parents already dead?
2. Do you have a moa, a chicken or boyfriend/girlfriend, in America?
3. Are you looking for a Tongan spouse?
I don’t think Tongans ever listen or care about the answers to questions 2 and 3, since they always seem to want to show off their own/a friend’s greatest marriage-worthy qualities. (The one I heard at kava that day was, “This guy knows how to cook cake really well!” I’m not sure if that was a euphemism for something I don’t understand, but his cake-cooking abilities were brought up numerous times that day.) Even so, it was fun to joke (as best I could in horribly broken Tongan) with the group.
Afternoon church started after an hour or so at the kava circle, so Sione and I left. Though I was having a good time, it was good to leave on a high note. So here are my reflections on kava:
1. Like the PCV in Ha’ano before me said, it’s a great way to practice your Tongan. Since I’m eager to say what I want to say and not be limited by what I can say, I think that’s almost reason enough to get over objections.
2. It was a great way to meet people I’d probably otherwise not have much contact with in the community. I spend a lot of time with the women, but this was probably my first quality contact with the men.
3. It was a great way to show people in the community I’m multi-dimensional. Most of the conversations are around safe subjects: my family in America, how I like Ha’ano, what my favorite Tongan food is. But at kava, we joked about moas and getting drunk off kava (and promply passing out. “Tongan family planning,” one guy told Sione.).
4. I didn’t mind ladling kava into men’s coconut cups. I was in charge of how much everyone drank, as touas always are. For the older, more respected men, I gave them an appropriate amount. For the one guy who was heckling me (I can only assume he was heckling me – he spoke too fast for me to understand anything, which was probably his point), I gave him a completely full drink. (The men drink the kava all at once so the next person can use their cup too, so imagine gulping down a glass of dirt-water fast.)
5. The worst part was how often my feet fell asleep. We’re all sitting on the floor, but the men are cross-legged. Women are supposed to sit with their legs to one side, so I did that, but I kept switching the side to regain bloodflow to my legs. After I shifted a couple of times, the men all welcomed me to sit like them. That was a relief.
Moral of the story: I can see myself toua-ing a number of times in the future. I think I’ll get a lot out of it in terms of Tongan-language and finding that Tongan husband they keep talking about. I’ve really enjoyed the community-oriented activities with a fixed start-finish time: kava, church, kaipolas. It’s nice to be able to let the community know I want to be a part of it all, but also go back home and rest when I’m saturated with Tongan for the day. So kava seems like another way to do that.
New Year's in Ha'ano and Sione's Visit
Only a few days after getting back from Pangai, Sione, a fellow PCV in Pangai, came to Ha’ano for New Year’s festivities. New Year’s Eve “festivities” would elicit a certain image to most Americans. Let’s not be too hasty.
Sione arrived in the afternoon, and after cooking dinner, we went to church. At 10pm. Until 12:30am. Tongans rang in the new year with a preacher shouting about something I couldn’t understand. (I heard words like “important,” “year,” and “we.” I hope Tongans understood more.)
Since my bedtime here in Tonga is generally 10pm, I was quite exhausted after the two-and-a-half hour church service. People in town, however, collected on the one road under the one streetlamp, to be talk, shout, and generally be loud. (That’s how it seemed to me, trying to go to sleep.)
At about 5:30am, Sione and I left to head to the NE-facing side of the island to be some of the first people in the world to see the sunrise in 2010. We sat on a rocky cliff ledge, had breakfast, and, despite a cloudy morning, saw a pretty cool sunrise.
Sione had expected to go home the day after, so the next morning, we got up early to check for boats.
“No problem!” I said. “There will definitely be boats!” I claimed.
I was so wrong. Just as I looked towards the dock from my porch at 6:30am-ish, I saw what turned out to be the lone boat that left that day for town. Before we realized he was stuck all that day (and since the next day was Sunday, and boats don’t run on Sunday, he was actually stuck until Monday), Sione asked some fishermen nearby what the deal was. The result was that one of them gave him an enormous fish. (I’ve lived here for several weeks, and I’ve never gotten a fish from the fishermen; he’s been here 2 days, and he gets a fish?) We spent the few extra days reading (a lot), cooking (with the minimal foodstuffs in Ha’ano – and that fish!), sitting around, kayaking, watching netball, and, on Sunday, going to church and kava.
(Continued in the next post …)
Sione arrived in the afternoon, and after cooking dinner, we went to church. At 10pm. Until 12:30am. Tongans rang in the new year with a preacher shouting about something I couldn’t understand. (I heard words like “important,” “year,” and “we.” I hope Tongans understood more.)
Since my bedtime here in Tonga is generally 10pm, I was quite exhausted after the two-and-a-half hour church service. People in town, however, collected on the one road under the one streetlamp, to be talk, shout, and generally be loud. (That’s how it seemed to me, trying to go to sleep.)
At about 5:30am, Sione and I left to head to the NE-facing side of the island to be some of the first people in the world to see the sunrise in 2010. We sat on a rocky cliff ledge, had breakfast, and, despite a cloudy morning, saw a pretty cool sunrise.
Sione had expected to go home the day after, so the next morning, we got up early to check for boats.
“No problem!” I said. “There will definitely be boats!” I claimed.
I was so wrong. Just as I looked towards the dock from my porch at 6:30am-ish, I saw what turned out to be the lone boat that left that day for town. Before we realized he was stuck all that day (and since the next day was Sunday, and boats don’t run on Sunday, he was actually stuck until Monday), Sione asked some fishermen nearby what the deal was. The result was that one of them gave him an enormous fish. (I’ve lived here for several weeks, and I’ve never gotten a fish from the fishermen; he’s been here 2 days, and he gets a fish?) We spent the few extra days reading (a lot), cooking (with the minimal foodstuffs in Ha’ano – and that fish!), sitting around, kayaking, watching netball, and, on Sunday, going to church and kava.
(Continued in the next post …)
Christmas in Uoleva
The 8 of us went to Uoleva for Christmas Eve and Christmas. It’s about an hour boat ride south of Pangai, and we stayed at Serenity Beaches, a resort with amazing individual huts and a larger common-area hut and kitchen. The PCVs and JICA (Japanese version of the Peace Corps) cooked for ourselves while we were there. Spaghetti and garlic bread for Christmas Eve; pancakes and bacon for Christmas morning; turkey and mashed potatoes for Christmas dinner. Nothing too over the top, but a fun diversion from the general Tongan diet of fried everything and root crops. There isn’t general electricity on the island, but there was electricity in the kitchen and common area, so we could keep food for a couple of days. We spent the time sitting around at the beach, kayaking, swimming – all things I’ve done several times since being in Tonga, but this time I could do it in a swimsuit and not be scandalous.
We came back to Pangai after 2 nights, and I headed back to Ha’ano after 2 more nights in Pangai. That’s just how often the boats to my island would go – every once in a while it seems.
We came back to Pangai after 2 nights, and I headed back to Ha’ano after 2 more nights in Pangai. That’s just how often the boats to my island would go – every once in a while it seems.
Tongan Name Games
Besides the traditional Tongan names – Tupou or Salote (traditional royal family names) – there are more... unique... names also. Here’s a list of names I’ve encountered. Guess which names are male and female.
1. Hina (Bottle/Spider)
2. Vai (Water)
3. Lua (Vomit)
4. Puke (Sick/To Hold)
5. Mahina (Month/Moon)
6. ‘Aho Lelei (Good Day)
7. Po’uli (Night)
8. Uike Lotu (Holy Week)
9. Eva (Wandering)
10. Tasi (Chalkboard Eraser)
11. Ika (Fish)
Female: odds
Male: evens
Except 11, which is both.
In case you forgot, my Tongan name, Pele, means not only “Darling,” but also “Playing Cards” and a kind of leaf here.
There are also a number of Western names, Tongan-ified. Here are some of them:
Julie – Suli
Rebecca – Lepeka
Sarah – Sela
Marie – Malia/Mele
William – Viliami
George – Siaosi
John – Sione
Fred – Feleti
1. Hina (Bottle/Spider)
2. Vai (Water)
3. Lua (Vomit)
4. Puke (Sick/To Hold)
5. Mahina (Month/Moon)
6. ‘Aho Lelei (Good Day)
7. Po’uli (Night)
8. Uike Lotu (Holy Week)
9. Eva (Wandering)
10. Tasi (Chalkboard Eraser)
11. Ika (Fish)
Female: odds
Male: evens
Except 11, which is both.
In case you forgot, my Tongan name, Pele, means not only “Darling,” but also “Playing Cards” and a kind of leaf here.
There are also a number of Western names, Tongan-ified. Here are some of them:
Julie – Suli
Rebecca – Lepeka
Sarah – Sela
Marie – Malia/Mele
William – Viliami
George – Siaosi
John – Sione
Fred – Feleti
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Fun, Fascinating Facts
1. I’ve been invited to join the netball team in Ha’ano. I’m looking forward to it, but after every practice/game that I’ve watched, I’ve seen several people with bloody knees or twisted ankles.
2. I’m my own handyman: I set up my stove by myself – EVEN the gas attachment. I haven’t blown my house up or even singed off my eyebrows.
3. The 4 new PVCs from Pangai, 2 old PVCs from Pangai, a JICA (the Japanese version of the PC), and I are going to Uoleva for Christmas. It’s an uninhabited island nearby. There’s a resort on it, but no electricity or cell-phone service. For New Year’s, I’ve invited that group to Ha’ano.
2. I’m my own handyman: I set up my stove by myself – EVEN the gas attachment. I haven’t blown my house up or even singed off my eyebrows.
3. The 4 new PVCs from Pangai, 2 old PVCs from Pangai, a JICA (the Japanese version of the PC), and I are going to Uoleva for Christmas. It’s an uninhabited island nearby. There’s a resort on it, but no electricity or cell-phone service. For New Year’s, I’ve invited that group to Ha’ano.
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