Tonga - Nuku'alofa - Day 3

I woke up at 7:30 in the morning. Having a flight out at 9:10am, Taina suggested that we leave at 8:00am. This was a much better time than the ones who took the ferry at 5:00am in the morning. I was awoken when they left at around 4:30, when I refreshed my mosquito coil. We arrived at the airport at around 8:15 or so, where there were many people around, many who have arrived in trucks. The airport did not appear to be open, so I sat down and waited. I tried to take a walk around, but there didn't seem to be anything of interest in the area other than a small "Welcome to 'Eua" sign with a few paragraphs on 'Eua, which I read.

As I waited for my flight, a Tongan woman started talking to me. As it turns out, she was a with a group of Tongans, all dressed in black and wearing the traditional grass wraps. She was going to a funeral, and as she was sick, she was taking the flight instead of the ferry. We talked for a short while as the family was sobbing loudly in the background. Eventually, at around 8:45, a woman showed up, unlocked the tiny room in the airport with a desk and sat down, making busy-sounding phone calls. After a while, she looked up at me and asked me if I was Mark. I said yes, and she busily scrawled out a boarding pass and gave it to me. The woman going to attend the funeral was telling me a story about her family and situation, and I got the feeling she was trying to get me to pay for part of her ticket as someone with the money failed to show up. However, as the person showed up in the last few minutes leading up to the flight, she asked me to take the money to the counter, which I did. The person at the counter looked at me suspiciously and asked me if the woman asked me to do this, to which I said to her it was the woman's money. Since she didn't have the right change, I ended up paying an extra two pa'anga for her, but I figure an extra two pa'anga was probably going to make a bigger difference to her than me.

The plane swooped around and landed at around 9:00am. The pilot got out, along with just two passengers, a palangi couple. After they had a chat with the pilot, I decided to go over and say hi to them. I re-arranged my already checked-in bag that was sitting by me, and went over to the other side of the covered seating area to say hi. By the way, if you haven't figured it out yet, 'Eua airport is now the newest "smallest airport terminal" I ever flew out of. Just as I was about to introduce myself, the guy said "... you look familiar... are you... Mark?" As it turns out, this was the Swedish couple I contacted through Couchsurfing - they told me that they couldn't host me as they will be moving around during my visit. What was even more astonishing was that during the hike, some of the Australian volunteers were talking about a Swedish couple who were doing some research in Tonga and were travelling around - they thought they might even be on their way to visit 'Eua. I didn't pay too much attention to their discussion, as although it crossed my mind that it could be the same Swedish couple, I thought the chances were too remote to really consider it. Who knew that I would bump into them at the tiny 'Eua airport! Once again, the coincidences of people meeting each other are just amazing in Tonga! Although I would have liked to chat for longer, my plane was just about to leave, so after a hasty good-bye, I boarded the plane over the sounds of the sobbing family members growing louder.

After another short flight, I was back in the domestic terminal of Fua'amotu airport, where I started my journey to 'Eua just a day before. As I waited in the luggage pick-up lounge, a small room with a shelf at the bottom of two open holes in the wall, more family members dressed in black and the traditional grass wraps waltzed in, sobbing loudly, to greet the woman who was going to attend the funeral. We greeted each other as she left. As all the bags were taken from the shelf, the man who rolled them up to the window climbed through it and, lying on the shelf, went to sleep.

I was picked up by Peter, who was a very nice fellow and a distinct face as he had what appeared to be two large, messy tumours growing out of his chin. We chatted as we drove to Toni's Guesthouse, where I would be staying in the very reasonably priced 15 pa'anga/night Green House. It was just after 10:00am when I arrived, and seeing that the next 1 pa'anga shuttle into town doesn't leave until 11:00am, I went to grab some Internet, which was surprisingly difficult to access, as the Internet here seemed to fizz out whenever it started raining. At least this is better than 'Eua, where only half the island has internet as it was knocked out during the recent cyclone. I spent the rest of the time unpacking, setting up the mosquito net around my bed, and chatting with Larissa, a Finnish girl who has been here for a while and seems to have run out of things to do.

At 11:00am, Larissa, I, and Kira from Estonia climbed into the van to go to town. On the way, it was decided that we would be dropped off at the weekly flea market taking place by the fish market. Toni was nice enough to act as a guide on our drive through town, pointing out to us various points of interest, such as the first girl's school set up by Queen Salote, the Centenary Chapel, where the royal family attends church, the Tongan parliament buildings, the largest building in Tonga - the five story tall National Reserve Bank of Tonga, holding around 150 million pa'anga of foreign reserves at the time of my visit, enough for six months of imports, and a fountain that was gifted to Tonga, but was knocked off the dais by a drunk driver. Apparently the fountain had never been in operation anyway.

Kira and I walked around the market for a while, as she was looking for a new dress. I bought a coconut to drink - this one was a bit sour and tasted a bit like yoghurt - which I hoped was OK. When I finished the coconut, I bumped into Toni and asked him where I should put the rubbish. Surprisingly, it turns out that there were rubbish bins all around, unlike many other countries I have been to. However, Toni informed me that the coconut isn't rubbish, and proceeded to smash it open on a nearby concrete planter, revealing the soft white insides. We also wandered over to what we thought was the fish market, but it was quite empty and had what appeared to be only a few fish there. As we left, I stopped at a stall to buy some food as I haven't ate for the day yet. I was quite a good deal, 5 pa'anga for a box of grilled chicken and a hot dog on a bed of cassava. Seeing the opportunity, I also asked the vendor to help loosen the flesh inside the coconut I had with me, which took a surprisingly long time, but was completed eventually, with no complaints.

As we walked down the calm northern shore of Tongatapu amongst the street stalls selling root vegetables and some other food, it started to drizzle. We passed many young people, all of them smiling or waving at us with a hearty "Bye!" Along this stretch, we passed the Chinese embassy, which was built for the Taiwanese, but taken over by China as relations between Tonga and China strengthened. We also passed the International Dateline Hotel, a modern-looking imposing hotel in downtown Nuku'alofa. Although it used to be one of the most up-scale accommodations in Tonga, travellers now avoid it due to a rash of problems after some Chinese owners purchased the property. In fact, the Chinese seemed to have taken over most of the shops and businesses in Tonga, to the point that some Tongans I met even told me they though I might have been a shop owner! Although this has been causing a lot of tension between the Chinese community there and the Tongans, as Toni puts it, the only crime the Chinese have committed is working harder than the Tongans.

As we passed the Tongan Development Bank, a one story-building made famous by being depicted on the back of the old 20 pa'anga notes, Talamahu Market came into view. The main market of the town, two stories tall, was both surprisingly filled with activity and empty at the same time. Outside the market were stalls selling root vegetables, lu (the leaves of the taro plant) and clothing. There were a few small store-like stalls along the wall, selling a range of products from tobacco to cold drinks to eggs. Inside the main section of the market were long rows of tables with each producer occupying a section. There was surprisingly low choice in produce, with the main items appearing to be tiny tomatoes, overripe bananas and a few other vegetables. Strangely, every single stalls seem to have placed all of their produce into neat piles - with every single pile costing 3 pa'anga! Whether it's four tomatoes the size of ping-pong balls or a ten-kilo basket of kumalas (sweet potatoes) in a woven straw basket, everything was 3 pa'anga! I bought a pile of strange yellow fruit, which I later identified as yellow passion fruit - they tasted like how artificial air fresheners smell. I also picked up a bunch of bananas - very short and stubby with pink-tinted flesh. There were also large fruit-looking things that looked like a less spiky and larger version of durian or jackfruit, but when I asked how to eat one, the vendor replied "it is not for eating!"

Surrounding the main produce section of the market, along the walls and narrow corridors were women sitting on the floor, pounding out large sheets of tapa cloth, a traditional fabric made from the bark of the paper mulberry tree. These large sheets were all over the market, but smaller, painted sheets were as well. In the back of the market and on the second floor, there were a variety of stalls selling handicrafts, kava bowls made of coconut, grass skirts, wraps and decorations, as well as grass bags and some other items, some geared towards locals, some geared towards tourists - of which the only ones we encountered was Eddie, a Finn who I discovered was staying in the same room as I was.

As we walked out of the market, I decided to pick up some kumala, seeing that everything will be closed tomorrow as it will be Sunday. As it turns out, it was impossible to buy a small portion of kumalas. At the vendors, I asked if I could just pay one pa'anga and pick a few kumalas off the top of the giant pile, but was told no. In the end, Kira and I decided to split one of the giant baskets of kumalas for 1.5 pa'anga each, which we carried around town in overfilled plastic bags. Walking back towards the town centre, only one or two blocks wide, we passed the Tongan parliament building, which was only the size of an oversized shack. After making a stop at the ATM, we decided just to take it easy at the popular Friend's Café in the middle of town, as it started to rain quite heavily.

Friends Café gave off quite a strange feel to it. The staff, all dressed in the same flowery shirts served what appeared to be solely a crowd of foreigners in a well-maintained building along with a patio covered by a wood and grass roof. Inside was very fancy, and as Kira put it, you can't tell that you are not in Europe. The prices of the coffees and pastries were also European. Sitting on the patio and watching the run-down cars and stray dogs passing by in the rain outside the iron fence, I felt like I was back in the old British colonial times (from what I can tell from movies as least!). It wasn't surprising that there appeared to be no locals in the café - the price of an item here is about 4 pa'anga, and with the unemployment running into the double digits and the average hourly wage of a worker being around 2 pa'anga an hour, this café would have been quite expensive for the locals.

As we waited for the next shuttle back to Toni's, we bumped into Eddie again. As I sat there, I enjoyed a cup of Tongan coffee, a tasty coconut and chocolate square, and a bottle of Mata Maka, a beer brewed in New Zealand specifically for the Tongan market, the closest I will be able to get to a local beer while in Tonga. I was surprised to find that this beer is apparently so obscure that I could not find it listed on www.ratebeer.com, one of my favourite sites that lists and rates beer from all over the world. After a while, we caught a ride back to Toni's with a quick stop at a local supermarket, where I still could not find any good locally produced foods! I ended up purchasing two cans of what I thought was corned beef from New Zealand. It turns out that they were cans of "corned meat," consisting of beef, mutton and beef hearts. Apparently, many of New Zealand's less desirable cuts of meat, including mutton flaps, are exported in large quantities to Tonga.

That night, I boiled some kumalas for dinner and ate them with a can of corned meat. Many of the kumalas kad worms in them, which took me quite a while to cut out. To a degree, it was fun peeling the kumalas with a knife, as I soon discovered there were three kinds. One was red-skinned and had a yellow-white flesh. Another kind had white skin and yellow-white flesh. My favourite, however, was a white-skinned variety that had purple flesh, the sweetest and most flavourful one. I figured that the purple one must also be healthy, as the purple pigment must be composed of natural anthocyanins, a potent anti-oxidant (although recent studies have shown that these chemicals may not actually be absorbed effectively from foods). Getting into the Tongan sharing spirit, I made some extra for the others. We had our meal as we piled together on the couches in the common room, protected by a mosquito coil, watching Snatch on Larissa's tiny netbook screen. Apparently this had been done in the past few nights, as although there was a DVD player in the room and a bag of DVDs, the only movie that was not scratched to oblivion was Casino Royale, which I saw people watching at least three times in the two nights I stayed at Toni's. Although I was waiting for "kava night" to be set up, which David and I had been looking forward to drinking at together since 'Eua, everyone decided to call it off as they didn't start setting up for it until about 9pm. Well, I hoped that I would bump into David the next day, as I had promised to deliver a message and contact information to David from Sibylla, an Australian volunteer working for the Tongan ministry of tourism that we met while on 'Eua. I went to sleep under the sounds of rain and movies relatively early. The dim lights and lack of activities made it seem much later than it actually is - which I was glad about, as my sleep cycle started to adjust to a more natural setting instead of one influenced by bright artificial lights.

Tonga - 'Eua - Day 2

I was quite unhappy about having to wake up early two days in a row while on vacation. Waking up at 6:00am, I quickly gathered my stuff and was out the door and into the taxi, the same one that took us from the airport, by 6:15. We checked in and waited for the flight at the airport, which was delayed, once again, this time due to winds that are too gusty. We passed the time chatting, and helped some other bored passengers straighten the pictures hanging crookedly on the walls. Luckily, the pilot deemed it safe to take off at around 8:00am, so we piled into the full flight. As the lucky man who got the co-pilot's seat got in, the pilot warned him not to bang his knees against the flight controls. After some quick safety instructions and a warning that take-off is going to be loud, we taxied to the runway and took off with no delay. Our aircraft, a Britten-Norman Islander, was quite bumpy in the gusty wind. Although its paint was chipping off, its body had numerous rusty spots, and there were numerous warnings on the control panel for low fuel and for the navigation system being out of date, the upbeat, easy-going British pilot made me feel quite safe.

As we lifted off, we could see 'Eua Island in the distance right away. After all, the seven minute flight across twenty kilometres of ocean is one of the shortest regularly scheduled flights in the world. Before I knew it, we were crossing over the shores of 'Eua Island and lining up with the runway. Even from the air, I could see that the runway at 'Eua Kaufana Airport was in poor shape. The unsealed coral runway looked as if it had many potholes, and parts of it appeared washed out. As we made a final bank towards the runway, the plane shuddered as it got caught in a gust of wind, which definitely caught my attention. I tightened my seatbelt to prepare for a rough landing, which the pilot warned us about before take-off. As it turns out, our pilot also realised that the runway was not in good shape, as he chose to land the aircraft on the strip of grass beside the runway instead. We were quite lucky, and our landing proved to be quite smooth in the co-operating weather conditions.

After a having our luggage wheeled to us on a derelict wood trolley and a phone call, we were on our way to Taina's Place in a van. We stopped briefly on the way at a farm, then on the road, where some people and some kids jumped in. As it turns out, they were all family members who help out around Taina's Place. When I arrived, Taina informed me that she already gave away my bed and that they were all out of rooms for the night. However, she can let me sleep in a bed in the "office" section of the common room for 20 pa'anga, which I gladly agreed to. I relaxed for a bit and chatted with the other Australian volunteers and the Peace Corps volunteer. I also met the guy who's house it was that I stayed in last night. After a while, everyone decided to go on the three hour hiking tour, which me, along with a couple from Hong Kong and an older American man who has travelled to over 150 countries and published a few books, have committed to. As we were waiting for the hike tour to start, the people who came by ferry yesterday said it was quite a trip. Apparently, the two and a half hour ferry ride turned into over five hours as the seas were extremely rough. The boat was tipping from side to side, causing everything on deck to slide from one side of the boat to the other. Even the people who said they have never been motion sick before said they were all throwing up. By the end, everyone was soaked from the rain, and glad to be alive as a few of the large waves they hit made them fear that the boat may capsize. Although I am glad that I traded that for an eight minute flight, I felt that I may have missed out on another adventurous experience and story!

At 10:00am, everyone piled into a few vehicles and we were dropped off at a large grassy field surrounded by trees. Apparently, this was the largest group they had taken for a hiking tour, so we were assigned three guides to keep an eye on us. As we started off into the bush, one of our guides, Taina's daughter, who I believe is also named Taina, pointed out to us some guava trees and picked some for us to eat. As it turns out, these are pretty common, and a few of the travellers, especially David the American travel writer and photographer, ate them throughout the hike.

The first stop was a huge banyan tree. The tree, growing on the side of a wide sinkhole, was enormous! The roots formed a forest of interconnecting branches that one could walk through and explore. We spent some minutes exploring the root system of this tree and taking photos. Most people, including me, have never seen anything like this and were quite amazed. The tree itself it very tall, supporting various ferns and other plants in addition to its own leaves high up in the rainforest canopy.

Trudging through trails serving farmland, with the occasional horses or cows tied to a tree, we came to the next point of interest, Matalanga 'A Maui, also known as the Smoky Cave. Matalanga 'A Maui was a dramatic depression in the earth. Following a steep slope down a bit leads to a sudden vertical drop. Standing on the edge of this drop, none of us could see the bottom. On one side, there was a stream, turning into a waterfall plummeting into the black abyss below. The other walls of the sink hole were covered with ferns and other tropical plants. As the water cascades into the depths, one could also see a white mist gently wafting out of the hole, dissipating near the top. Although it is technically possible to use the vines to climb to the bottom of the hole with some skill, we did not have the time to do so. Taina also told us of a tale of how an American man fell into the hole a few years ago after being lost in the forest with his brother and trying to find their way home in the dark. His brother managed to make it to Taina's Place, where she called for help, but when they found the man who fell down the hole, he was dead.

As we continued on, it became more and more muddy as the rain started up again. We passed through huge patches of mimosa, the plant that folds its leaves when touched. Although it was quite pretty to see, this is in fact an invasive species from South America. Eventually, we entered the main rainforest area of 'Eua National Park, where I immediately slipped and ended up with my right pant leg completely covered in mud. It turned out it didn't matter much anyway, as by the end of the trip, I was fully covered in mud halfway up to my knees, and I had to wash my pants and shoes to make sure they got past Biosecurity New Zealand anyway. This turned out to be quite a gruelling hike. Due to the category four cyclone that passed through Tonga just a week and a half prior, there were numerous downed trees. Finding the path was difficult enough, but now it was compounded by the problem of climbing over and under the numerous tree trunks and branches in the way. What was supposed to be a three hour walk turned into a five to six hour hike. As we gained altitude, we travelled through a variety of different rainforest landscapes. We heard many birds around us, but saw few. We were especially on the lookout for rare parrot that can be found only in the rainforests of 'Eua.

After getting lost a few times and retracing our steps (I can't imagine how we would have found our way without the guides!), we reached a clearing where a wood platform was built. Stepping out onto the platform, we were treated to a view of the rounded and vegetated cliffs of 'Eua island towering over rainforest covered in vines leading up to a beach being pounded by the rough surf. White-tailed tavake birds were gliding amongst the treetops below. Although we were quite high up, we were still not at the tallest point of 'Eua island, Te 'Emoa. From time to time, a break in the forest canopy would allow us to catch glimpses of the cliffs above us leading to the peak. We took this opportunity to take our bags off to cool down in the strong breeze and take a snack. I had grabbed a bunch of bananas hanging in the yard (a large bunch of probably over a hundred bananas cut from one of the numerous banana trees of her property) from Taina's place, and had a few of them. Remembering that I was in Tonga, I offered some to the others, but no one else wanted any. After another short walk, we came to another viewing platform with similar expansive views over the cliffs, rainforests, and the Pacific Ocean.

Continuing onwards, we stopped at Ana Kuma, The Rat's Cave. Once again, it pays to have a guide with you when exploring the rainforests of 'Eua. Ana Kuma was nothing more than just a small hole between some rocks by the base of a tree. However, climbing into it reveals a dark passage filled with some stalactites and stalagmites. Making your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel reveals an expansive view over the forests and coasts of 'Eua. There is a ledge that one could carefully climb down onto, but seeing that we were already well behind schedule, we decided to just get a quick look and continue on. As someone put it, Rat's Cave is probably named that because you feel like a rat when entering and exiting the cave.

After another long hike, we reached a small pool in the forest. The pool is made of a concrete barrier built at the bottom of some small streams and waterfalls. The water was murky, which was undoubtedly due to the recent heavy rains. A traveller who has been here before remarked that last time he was here, the water was perfectly clear, very inviting on a hot and humid day. The area around the pools were also in a terrible state, filled with many fallen and rotting trees, no doubt from the recent cyclone. After sitting for a rest, some people decided to head back, with a few intrepid folks determined to go on to the last point of interest, only a short walk from here. Not much was said about the last point of interest other than we'll like it - in retrospect, perhaps Taina and the other guides could have done a better job of selling the attraction!

After carefully crossing the concrete barrier and walking up some muddy trails strewn with fallen trees, we reached what were were looking for. It was a huge banyan tree. I was wildly impressed with the first banyan tree, but this one was much bigger! Not only that, but it was growing out the side of another sink hole, which was really the entrance to a subterranean cave system. Following a steep path, we descended to the bottom of the sink hole, and climbing through the roots of the tree, we arrived at the cave entrance. It was spectacular! The tree towered above us, visible through large holes in the rock between the rock bridges above. The cave, with large stalactites, stalagmites, and a small river or pool of water was visible, although it was not possible to see too far into the cave, even with a torch. The natural beauty of the place reminded me of the Hometree in the recent hit movie Avatar, and someone even pointed out that the Hometree in Avatar was called Eywa, which sounds just like 'Eua!

Unfortunately, I did not enjoy this place as much as I would have, as I really needed to go to the bathroom. This is the second time this has happened this year - I needed to go to the toilet really badly after a walk longer than five hours - I hope that this is just a phase and doesn't continue to ruin my longer hikes! I was very glad when we started to head back. If I wasn't in such discomfort, I would have climbed up the roots of the tree out of the sink hole as a few others decided to do. Just as I was about to give up and run into the bushes with some toilet paper, which I always carry when travelling, we reached a series of fenced-in fields. After some more walking, a truck suddenly showed up, and following the guides, we jumped in. There were fishing nets in the truck, and the truck stank of old fish. One of the volunteers remarked that they don't know how they do it, but everything seems to just work out in Tonga. After what seemed like a torturous long drive, we finally arrived at Taina's Place, when I dropped off my bag on the patio and went to the bathroom. When I got back, I had a bowl of curry chicken soup and two purple kumalas waiting for me - I didn't see any for anyone else, so I wondered why I was getting this special treatment - probably due to me having to sleep in the lounge that night. Taina also brought in some fresh macadamia nuts, still with the fleshy fruit around it, collected from a tree on her property for everyone to try.

After washing my shoes and pants, I spent the rest of the evening resting and chatting, sometimes just sitting there and letting my mind blank while listening to the wind and the rain. For dinner, there was a miscommunication, as they forgot to make some for me even though I told them I would like them to make me dinner (I think they even told me that they would give me the dinner for free due to me not having a bed in a dorm, but I suppose that might have been an actual misunderstanding). Luckily, they found a bit of extra food for me. David and a Danish guy who told me about the tensions between Tongans and the Chinese in Tonga, donated some of their dinner to me. After the volunteers played some board games and amused themselves with trashy magazines, the lounge cleared out. Positioning the mosquito coils, I went to sleep at just before midnight, wrapping myself up in the blankets to protect myself from the vicious mosquitoes in Tonga. I didn't have too much to worry about for the night, as apparently, only the daytime mosquitoes carry dengue, which supposedly most of the volunteers who have stayed for over a year has contracted at some point.

Tonga - Nuku'alofa - Day 1

As we pulled in to the domestic terminal of Fua'amotu International Airport at around 2:30pm, it started raining hard. The domestic terminal, for some reason, is separated from the international terminal by not too far, but due to the way the fences are placed, it would be a surprisingly long transfer between the terminals. As it turns out, the domestic terminal was surprisingly busy. This would be the smallest airport terminal I have ever flown out of. The airport is nothing more than a small concrete building with some benches outside. The inside is a hall with some additional seats. There is a small information booth, which I would never see open during my trip in Tonga. There is a small café serving coffee and sandwiches in the corner, by the doors marked "Arrivals" and "Departures." Two more doors lead to small bathrooms. The hall was pretty simple, adorned with a few pictures hanging on the otherwise empty walls. The most important part however, was a small desk, wide enough to fit two people, beside a simple printed sign that said "Chathams Pacific. The Friendly Islands Airline." There was also a scale beside the desk, which I took to mean that it was the check-in counter. Behind the desks were two windows to the outside, filled with the passengers' luggage. On the other side of the desk was a small whiteboard, with a list of flights for the day scrawled across it. It was quite uncomfortable inside as it was crowded, dim, and humid. Although the crowd was mostly Tongans, some wearing bulky-looking traditional grass skirts and wraps, there were a few palangi, or Caucasians, hanging around.

I went up to the check-in desk, hoping that I could drop my bag off before taking a quick walk to Fua'amotu village and the beach. However, the check-in clerk told me to come back at 3:30pm, as they were busy clearing everyone for a flight to Vava'u. I sat outside, waiting for the rain to at least slow down before attempting to go for a walk. As the rain lightened, I decided to try to visit Fua'amotu village, which we drove through on the way to the airport, only about a fifteen minutes walk away. I put on my raincoat and was disappointed to find that I would not zip it up with my bag inside. Well, no matter, the rain was much lighter now, and the only important things to keep dry are my bag and camera. So, I bravely went out into the rain. As soon as I reached the first houses near the airport, I realised that I was getting quite soaked and uncomfortable, so I decided to turn back. As I got back to the airport, everyone was looking at me and probably wondering where this foreigner came from, all soaked from the rain. I sat down and decided just to wait for my plane, seeing that there was only about an hour left before the flight. As I waited, the airport became rather empty after all the passengers for Vava'u boarded a rather antique-looking Convair double propeller plane designed in the 1940s. Many of the drivers and family members of the passengers asked me if I was on the flight - it was good to see that there are still areas of the world where people are still looking out for others.

At around 3:40pm, I decided to go check in. The check-in clerk suggested I check my bag in as there is not much space on board, so I dropped off my bag and went to wait for the flight. The clerk gave me my boarding pass, a slip of printed paper template on which she scribbled my name, flight number, seat number, and boarding time. At this time, there were only a few other passengers around, as the flight to 'Eua may have been the last flight of the day, and the plane only holds up to nine passengers, if one of them sits in the co-pilot seat. Seeing one palangi girl in the waiting room, I decided to introduce myself and have a chat with her. It turns out that Marian (or Mary-Anne, or some such name), is an Australian volunteer on a one-year assignment to Vava'u, helping the area's arts and crafts shops develop their appeal to tourists. She was on her way to meet a group of Australian volunteers and one Peace Corps, who were all taking a short break to visit 'Eua, all staying at Taina's Place, the same guest house I was staying at! She told me all about how everyone knows everyone else in Tonga, especially the foreigners since there are so few of them around. I had heard about this phenomenon, colloquially known as "coconut wireless," with which everyone in Tonga seems to know a surprising amount about everyone else, where they are, and what they are doing.

As we were chatting away, a birthday cake materialised and went into the office, were we heard the staff singing happy birthday. We, and some of the other very few passengers waiting around joined in the applause and cheering afterwards. Soon, the woman whose birthday it was appeared, walked around the terminal with cake and offered a slice to everyone. So everyone in the terminal had cake. Apparently this is a very Tongan thing to do, to share food with everyone if feasible. Although I have been in other cultures where offering food is the norm, this is the first time I have been in a culture where when food is offered to strangers, it is not expected to be automatically refused! I didn't know this at first, and as I was the first one being offered cake, I said no. I ended up sharing the slice that Marian got.

As it got close to boarding time, the airport attendant made an announcement. In such a small airport, it turns out an announcement is made just by the person walking to the middle of the room and talking. Since there was only about five or six passengers around, it felt like she was walking directly to us, even when she prefaces all announcements with "attention all passengers for the flight to 'Eua." As it turns out, the rain was too heavy for the tiny plane to take off, so the flight has been delayed to wait out the rain. For the next two hours, the plane became more and more delayed as the rain would not relent. We watched the pilot walking in and out, and carefully monitored his expression as he reported his finding to the front desk. When he walked into the airport with his bag, we knew that there would be bad news. At around 5:30pm, it was regretfully announced to us that the plane has been cancelled, and re-scheduled for the next day at 7:30am. Much like the other passengers, I wasn't too worried or shocked. I've already heard that when in Tonga, it's going to be hard sticking to any kind of a schedule because no one is ever in a hurry. If things change, things change. In fact, one of the other travellers I met told me that the activity he has spend doing the most of in Tonga is waiting.

Although I was thinking of going to Toni's Gueshouse, where I booked my last two nights on Tongatapu, Marian invited me to stay with her at a friend's place. After a phone call, it was all confirmed and we were on a taxi headed to Vaha'akolo, with directions given to the taxi driver using the names of the house owners - since, once again, everyone in Tonga apparently knows everyone else. I enjoyed the ride into town. Just like the other taxi, this van had strands of fake flowers decorating the car near the dashboard. Passing by an new gated multi-story hotel near the airport, the road winds through many small villages filled with people walking around the muddy roads. It seems that any store in a village becomes a popular hangout spot for the locals. Along the way, we passed many sights such as the king's residence, a modern-looking villa set far back from the road among the fields with a gated entrance and a manned guard post. We also passed a few schools and universities. Since it was Thursday at around 5:30pm, school was just going out for the weekend, and we saw the students heading home. The students from one particularly prestigious school were wearing their school uniforms, white clothes and a woven grass wrap around their waist. Shoes appeared to be optional, and they appeared to be optional in most other facets of Tongan life as well. I was kind of surprised at what people walked around on all day without shoes though, the roads were generally gravel or dirt, with numerous sharp coral rocks strewn about.

As the rain stopped (what terrible timing!) to a mix of international pop and Tongan music on the radio, we turned down a tiny road. At the end was the house we would be staying in. The neighbours were out in their yard, and a little kid came over to whisk away the puppy that wandered over to see what the action was. Marian told me that pets weren't treated with respect in Tonga at all, and as I observed, they seemed unwelcome in more situations. Marian told me that the puppy was actually the only one that was still alive out of five puppies that they kept from the last litter, with the rest being killed by other dogs, run over by cars, or having some other tragedy happen to them. She even told me a story about how one of the Australian volunteers was offered a dog to eat as a gift from a neighbour when he arrived in Tonga, because the dog was being naughty.

Stepping out the the car, I saw the Australian guys I met at the airport just getting into another car! As it turns out, they were friends and they were just heading off after a visit! Not only that, but this was just the beginning of a long series of such coincidences and similar experiences, which turned out to be one of the main reasons I loved my visit to Tonga so much. After dropping off our stuff in the surprisingly modern and spacious house, contrary from what the house looked like from outside, Marian and I went for a walk around town. Cathy, a German-Australian, had a call from her dad so she decided to join us later on.

Our route took up to the waterfront and into town from the west. As we passed a few stores, I popped in to see if I could find any Tongan foods or drinks to try, without any luck. Well, I say "pop in" in the loosest of terms. As it turns out, many stores in Tonga are shacks with a long window made up of metal bars through which you tell the attendant what you want. We passed by a few official-looking houses on fenced and guarded properties. We also passed a few Western-looking hotels, the only one that looked clean and tidy being the hotel and restaurant complex Little Italy, which with rooms starting at 230 pa'anga per night, is apparently quite a popular destination for more up-scale palangi visiting Tonga. Eventually, we made it to the Royal Palace, a stately-looking wood structure built in 1867. The palace is very well maintained, with a fresh-looking coat of red paint on the roofs and whitewashed walls. The complex is surrounded by an old one metre tall sacred stone wall, which has been extended upwards using a combination of chain-link and barbed wire, which is starting to fall off. The entrances are guarded by red iron gates displaying the Tongan coat of arms. Sadly, the palace no longer appears to be in use, as the new king prefers to live in his modern mansion, the one we passed on our way from the airport. However, the palace does serve as a powerful symbol, occupying some prime space in downtown Nuku'alofa along the waterfront.

As we reached the tiny town centre, we got a call from Cathy. Apparently some of their friends are having dinner in town, so we decided to join. Walking up Taufa'ahau Road, Marian waved to a few people she knew, some of whom she met in Vava'u. I asked her if she happened to know the family of a Tongan Canadian I met at one of the Couchsurfing meetings in Auckland, and after a bit of thinking, she said that she did in fact know a Tongan Canadian family living just out of town near a hospital. Following this line of questioning, I asked her if she knew any of the Couchsurfers I contacted before my trip here. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember all of their names, but we decided that she must know the Peace Corps volunteer on 'Eua, as she did know a few Peace Corps who are stationed there.

Eventually, Cathy met up with us on her bicycle. As we walked up the street, we passed the royal tombs, consisting of a few decorated and raised platforms in an otherwise large empty grassy lot. We passed numerous churches and cathedrals, the two most impressive ones being the round Basilica of St. Anthony of Padua, rising to a dramatic peak, and the large, Gothic-looking Free Church of Tonga. All the churches were full tonight, as there were going to be all-night services leading up to Good Friday. Ever since the introduction of Christianity in the late 1700s and early 1800s, Tonga has become overwhelmingly devoted to Christianity.

We ate at JJ's Indian restaurant, newly remodelled - it was now a "pretty fancy" place, with a counter to order from and some plastic tables and chairs in a lounge surrounded by large windows and curtains. We sat for a long time while the old friends chatted and caught up with each other's lives. After dinner, we went for a quick drink. I was disappointed to find that there are no longer any beers brewed in Tonga. Ikale, the only beer brewed in Tonga, was discontinued only months before. Tonight, this bar had more bouncers and security guards than customers. After the beer, Marian and I were both ready to pass out as we both had to wake up early today to catch flights. As we waited for the cab we called to pick us up, we compared numbers in Tongan and Maori, which turned out to be very similar. In fact, I could even understand simple numbers when I hear them in Tonga speech!

The drive back through dimly-lit, palm-tree surrounded, heavily pot-holed roads was slow. Once in a while, we would pass a church, with their lit crosses becoming beacons of light, and were filled with people for the all-night services. As I got back, I was happy to find that their house had hot water for a shower, and after a shower under a trickle of water, I fell asleep on the couches to the sounds of the rain, dogs fighting in the streets, chickens crowing in the yard and pigs squealing.

Tonga - Keleti - Day 1

The drive to Keleti was surprisingly long. Even though Keleti Beach, the site of the Keleti International Resort, is only about ten kilometres from the airport, the drive took about half an hour along the narrow unpaved roads. I very much enjoyed the views of fields filled with crops and palm trees along the way, as well as sections along the road where the grass on the sides were towering over the car. Along the way, I chatted with the driver and his kids. I learned that they have family in Sydney and have visited Australia and New Zealand before. This is not at all surprising, as nearly half of Tongans live outside of Tonga. In fact, one of the main sources of income for the Tongan economy are remittances sent home by oversea relatives. Since Tongan culture is so communal, family members living and working overseas apparently have a difficult time saying no when their family at home needs or asks for money.

As we turned down a very narrow gravel road, I could see the ocean pounding the coast with surprisingly huge waves. Soon, Keleti International Resort slowly rolled into view. I was shocked. There was no fancy international hotel or restaurant. There were no multi-storied buildings. It was a simple concrete building, a water cistern outside, and some small shacks (Tongan fales) behind the building on the property. As I was being dropped off, the driver sold me on a ride back to the airport for 15 pa'anga, with me being picked up at 3:00pm. I decided that it would be indeed too far to walk back. The taxi driver immediately started chatting with some of the people who were working there. As it turns out, Keleti International Resort is owned by some of his family members. I found my way into reception and learned about what attractions I could visit in the area.

Seeing that I just got off of a three hour international flight that I had to wake up at 4:30am to catch, I decided that the first order of business would be to head to the beach for a quick visit and rest. Following a path made of roughly strewn concrete blocks under the coconut trees, I arrived at the beach. As I was walking over, I saw a coconut fall from a height of about fifty metres from a tree only a few metres from me. I made a mental note to be alert for falling coconuts if I happen to pass under these trees in the future. As I made my way to the beach amongst the numerous small hermit crabs, I arrived at a small beach cove squeezed between large protrusions of coral rock. It was just me on the beach, and I did not see another soul for the rest of the day during my visits to the beach. Finding a sheltered area, I changed into shorts and jandals for the tropical climate.

The beach was surprisingly active, and the water was churning away. I was actually quite amazed at the layout of the beach. About fifty metres offshore is a long line of reefs stretching along the shore for as far as one could see. These reefs formed a wall of circular terraces rising up to about two metres from the surface of the ocean during low tide. These reefs shouldered the brunt of the pounding from the ocean, creating a relatively sheltered lagoon in the fifty metre wide strip of water between the shore and the reef. The receptionist told me that when the seas are calmer, there are many corals and fish to be seen by snorkelling in this lagoon. Today, however, the lagoon was turbulent. The large waves, reaching what I would estimate to be about eight metres high for the largest ones, crashed into the reef with such force as to shoot solid walls of white spray tens of metres into the air. The reef also formed hundreds of blow holes of varying sizes, and it was fascinating to watch the sequence of dancing "eruptions" as the waves hit the reef. The water washing over the reefs caused the lagoon to become quite turbulent and frothy that day, making swimming in it nearly impossible.

After a good rest, I decided to walk along the beach for a bit. Walking over the jagged coral rocks, I reached another small beach, which I took a quick rest on. From here, there were some wonderful views of very active blow holes in the area, which I enjoyed. I decided not to go farther as the waves were quite intimidating as viewed from the beach. Although the reef was there to protect the beach from the massive waves, I was still uncomfortable seeing such large waves crashing so close. Once in a while, when the waves hit the reef at just the right angle, it created a spurt of water high up in the air, so high that I had to tilt my head up to see the top, even though it was shooting up in the air fifty metres away! What really bothered me was that the coral rocks I had to walk across to reach this beach were wet, with water flowing in small streams from the pools around me. This indicated to me that rogue waves would reach up to where I was walking! I didn't want to get stranded when the tide comes in! With that thought, I headed back to the hotel for a quick walk-around.

As I walked around the hotel grounds, I looked into the fales, simple concrete structures serving as hotel rooms. The staff cleaning the area invited me to go in and see the fales, but I decided that I can see enough just walking around. There was a small pagoda perched on some coral rocks, which offered an expansive view of the ocean. The complex wasn't very large, so I turned back soon. It was still quite early, and I wasn't ready for lunch yet. Luckily, I ran into the receptionist who recommended to me that there are more beaches along the shore, and even though it might look otherwise, it was quite safe for me to walk over the coral rocks between the beaches.

So, it was back to the second beach, where the single trail of footsteps I left in the otherwise pristine sand was still there. This time, I ventured farther finding an additional beach. I was dismayed that I found some rubbish in the area, and even saw some other sets of footprints. Seeing that I have already ventured so far, I though I might as well continue. I crossed the beach and climbed up some coral rocks leading though an area of overhanging rock, forming a half-cave. I was quite intimidated here, as this brought me closer to the large waves breaking just in front of me, and I was afraid of falling rock from above me. Disappointingly, I didn't see any other beaches. I thought maybe there were some more hidden coves, so I continued on for quite some more time. The terrain became more and more difficult, and I eventually found myself in a patch of vegetation, quite overgrown and filled with spider webs. Seeing that I was now sweaty and uncomfortable, I decided to head back to the second beach where I knew I had a speedy get-away just in case the tide rose faster than I had prepared for.

I took a long rest at the second beach, enjoying the sight and the sound of the waves. Soon, it was lunchtime, and I wondered up to the restaurant at the resort for food. Not seeing any real Tongan food on the menu, I ordered fish and chips and a fresh coconut to drink. "Everyone has the fish and chips," remarked the woman taking my order. The outside dining area was very nice, under a roof of thatched leaves overlooking the ocean, reef and lagoon. I chatted with a group of Japanese eating there, who were temporarily living in Tonga, working as architects on a new Chinese-funded hospital under construction. We exchanged contact information as they left since they were planning on visiting Auckland in the next few weeks. As my food arrived, I enjoyed my meal over the view of the waves and doing a bit of studying from my Lonely Planet guidebooks I took out from the library.

Soon, ominous dark clouds loomed over the water, along with streaks of rain heading this way. At first, the rain posed no problem, but as the wind picked up and the rain intensified to an intense downpour, the roof started to leak. Eventually, I was called in to take shelter indoors, in the bar area of the resort where some of the Tongan workers and their families were resting, watching TV and playing pool. After waiting out the rain, I decided to take a walk up the road to see what was there. The Tongan woman who invited me in told me that it was safe to leave my bag on the chair in the bar. Although I heard that due to the communal culture of the Tongans, everything is fair game for "borrowing," I decided that it wouldn't be such a huge problem here as they should be used to catering to foreigners who don't like sharing as much as the Tongans do.

I only made it up to where the driveway met the main road before realising there was really nothing in the area other than some fields, palm trees and breadfruit trees , so I decided to head back to the seaside to wait for my ride there. I was quite impressed by the breadfruit though - they were much larger than I had expected! My driver happened to return just as I started back along the driveway. I decided that I've seen enough of the area already, so I will go to to airport an hour early - at 2:00pm. Maybe there was still time to explore Fua'amotu village after all. I picked up my stuff and headed over to Fua'amotu Airport. As we drove back to the airport, slowing once in a while for my driver to wave to some friends in the fields, my driver told me about how Tongans used to use each part of the coconut tree before the introduction of cheap synthetic alternatives such as plastic. He also explained to me the importance of taro and the attributes of each of the three types of taro grown in Tonga. In addition, he explained to me that being one of eleven taxis licensed to serve the airport was not too bad - some days there are as many as three incoming flights from overseas to the airport, although some days there are no international flights at all!

Tonga - Prologue

April 1, 2010. Waking up at 4:30am, with only about four hours of sleep, I was surprisingly energetic. Today, I will be heading off to the Kingdom of Tonga, my first trip to the islands of the South Pacific other than New Zealand. Last night just before bed, I hastily packed four shirts, four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, jandals, snorkelling gear, guidebooks, toiletries, medicines, a raincoat and some other simple supplies into a small pack I can carry on my back. I got ready very quickly, and as I was just about to walk out the door, I picked up my bag. Immediately, disaster struck! One of the straps snapped right off the bag! I just stared at the bag for about a minute as I was still half asleep, but as I got my wits about me, I rummaged around my closet and found a sewing kit I collected from a hotel stay at some point in the past. Throwing that in my bag, I started off towards the airport bus station to catch the 5am bus.

The walk to the bus station was against like swimming upstream. There were many drunk people walking out of the city centre to turn in for the night. The area in front of Showgirls, a well-known strip club on Custom Street, was especially packed. As I reached Queen Street, I realised that I did not know where the bus station was, so I walked towards the ferry terminal, the supposed terminus of the airport bus. Asking directions from an old man, I found my way. I spent my time waiting for the bus sewing the strap back onto the bag, which proved to be quite successful. I stuffed the sewing kit into the bag, hoping that airport security wouldn't mind. I was still quite half asleep as the bus showed up. I spent the rest of the time watching the drunks walking around outside the station, and said hi to one of the cleaners working the graveyard shift.

The bus to the airport became surprisingly full as we made our way through downtown picking up bleary-eyed passengers heading to the airport. Some of them were young backpackers, some of them were old businessmen. Although it was still dark outside, the inside of the bus was filled with chatter, and we were kept company by a giant stuffed tiger perched inside the front window.

I arrived at the airport one and a half hours before my flight at 7:15am. Check-in was quite smooth, and I was quickly whisked through security in no time. In New Zealand, it isn't even necessary to take off one's shoes to go through airport security, and the atmosphere is much more relaxed. It turns out that I was once again going to quite a familiar gate, gate 68, where I boarded my flight to Hong Kong just three months ago. The first thing I noticed was that, wow, there are so many Tongans around! There were much less tourists than I expected! In fact, I felt kind of intimidated, all these large Tongans wondering what I was doing on a flight to Tonga! After ducking in to the bathroom to brush my teeth and freshen up, I sat down to wait. All of a sudden, I noticed that out of the adjacent gate was another flight, scheduled for the same time as mine, going to Sydney! As boarding for the Sydney flight started, nearly all of the few non-Tongans in the area piled into the Sydney gate, leaving me as one of the very few foreigners still waiting for the Tonga flight! In fact, all through the check-in procedure and while I was waiting at the gate, attendants would ask to make sure I was not going to Sydney, apparently making sure I was catching the right flight as most probably assumed I was flying to Sydney. While waiting, I quite enjoyed listening to people chattering in Tongan, as it sounded so foreign and exotic to me.

When the time came, I boarded the rather empty flight, and had a row all to myself. Since this was Pacific Blue, there wasn't much to do on board and I had to pay for all my beverages, although the fare is quite cheap. I spent the time trying to relax, nap and read my Lonely Planet book for some last-minute studying before arriving in Tonga. Since my plane was arriving at 10:05am, and I had another plane flying out to 'Eua Island at around 4:20pm, I wanted to spend some time exploring close to the airport. I had a plan of walking through Fua'amotu Village to Fua'amotu Beach, only about a three to four kilometre walk from the airport. I was going to find some food in the village then see if I can learn how to ride a horse, as I had read in the guidebooks that it was possible to rent a horse for cheap from owners in nearly any village in Tonga.

Before I knew it, we started our descent into Tonga. It was rather late in the descent when I finally caught a glimpse of land, the first land I had seen in the past three hours, the last time being about ten or fifteen minutes after take-off. This view left me quite excited. I saw below me a tiny flat island of crisp greens and yellows in a sea of varying shades of blue. The island was covered in tens of thousands of palm trees, with small clusters of buildings visible here and there connected by dirt roads. The capital of Nuku'alofa was visible on the other side of the island, along with the lagoons and small islets around it. The sky was blue with puffs of fluffy, cotton-like clouds dotting the sky above the precious terrain. As we flew over the coastline, I could see large waves pounding the reefs below, spurting white foam high into the air. As we descended into the palm trees, I wondered what new experiences I will soon have on this small, remote piece of land in the vast, turbulent ocean.

With a gentle thud, our plane was on the ground of one of the few remaining near-absolute monarchies in the world, although theoretically, this is soon about to change with the upcoming reformed elections taking place in November. This change was spurred by the riots in 2006, which burned down the entire capital of Nuku'alofa, which they are still in the process of rebuilding. Currently, however, the king still holds near-complete control over his kingdom, even though the country is technical a constitutional monarchy. At the time of writing, the reigning monarch of Tonga, King Siaosi (George) Tāufaʻāhau Manumataongo Tuku'aho Tupou V, has the privilege of appointing the country's cabinet, prime minister, and twelve of the thirty seats in parliament, while his relatives in the royal family has the power to appoint an additional nine of those seats, leaving nine parliament seats to be chosen via public elections. In addition, the King also keeps a strict control over media coverage of Tongan politics. It will be very interesting to see what changes will happen to Tonga after the democratic reforms planned for later this year. In a way, it is sad to see the royal family relinquishing their control on one of the last absolute monarchies in the world.

As we descended the stairs from the plane to the tarmac, I was surprised at how humid and hot it was. The airport building was quite small, with an observation deck filled with anxious waving family members and small children running around and climbing on the fences for a better view. There was even a small, what appeared to be hand-painted sign that said "Welcome to the Kingdom of Tonga. Malō e lelei." I went through customs very fast, and was in fact the first person in the "Visitors" line. I realised just then that my original plan of taking a cab then the ferry to 'Eua island would have worked out, but due to reading an article on the Internet about how the Tongan customs can take a long time, I thought it would be safer to take the flight rather than risking missing the 12:30pm ferry from Nuku'alofa. Well, I suppose this just means some extra time to explore the surroundings, although I would miss out on what is supposed to be quite the interesting experience of taking a ferry in Tonga.

As we got off the plane, I chatted to a another visitor. He told me that he was visiting his brother, from Australia, who is living in Tonga for half a year to teach Tongan kids soccer. At the airport, I asked him for suggestions on what to do, which led him to arrange for me a taxi trip to nearby Keleti for 20 Tongan Pa'anga. So much for the carefully laid plans of exploring the area around the airport. Climbing in to the taxi with two of the driver's kids, we set off from the airport into the greenery of the Tongan landscape.