Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Tonga, Tongatapu, Nuku'alofa, Neiafu...jeeezz (Tonga)

Leaving Samoa, we again had to fly through Auckland.  Our flight had been delayed in Samoa, and I was stuck sitting in the middle seat between two Samoan-sized Samoan men (I think you know what I mean), so by the time we arrived in New Zealand at about 5:30 in the morning, I was beat.  I use the public restroom as my personal bathroom, and the duty free lotions again as my personal toiletry stash; do you know Chanel make a cream that’s $450?!!!  Anyway, we got our spots on the plush lounge sofas in the international terminal, I put on my eye mask and ear plugs and settled in for a few hours of sleep; it’s not so bad, see?  We left the airport early afternoon, so we didn’t have too much idle time after exhausting our 30 minutes of internet.
The flight to Tongatapu, Tonga was easy and got us into Tonga with plenty of day light.  The first man to approach us offered us a ride to our accommodation, which Jared had reserved.  We drove in with a couple other people, and the driver, Mana, told us that he could provide us with a tour of the island for the next day if we wanted, so Jared, myself and another woman decided we would take him up on the offer.  The drive into Nuku’alofa, the city, was not long, and we arrived at Dayspring B & B; unfortunately, the manager was not informed of our arrival, so there was a bit of a dispute regarding the deposit we paid, but in the end, she quoted Jared a bit less than was listed online, so it worked out being the same.  It also actually worked out well, because Jared had originally booked us into the hostel for four days, but changed his mind that morning in Auckland…well he didn’t exactly “change his mind”, more like he forgot how long we reserved, and booked a flight for the two of us to go to Vava’u two days later.  Anyway, like I said, it all worked out fine in the end.  As usual, the first thing we had to do was find some food.  Judging by the map, we weren’t too far from the center of town, and the manager told us the walk into town would take about 30-45 minutes.  I HATE getting walking times from locals, they always SUCK, and it happens EVERYWHERE; people always kind of smile and say “oh you know Cook Island Time, Samoan Time, Tongan Time”; NO, I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.  It is HOT people, we do not want to have to walk for an extra hour and a half, thinking we are lost, because you clearly have zero sense of time…anyway, I digress!!!  About an hour later, I looked at my phone map and it barely looked like we had moved at all in relation to the center of the city; we still had a very long walk.  It was also incredibly and uncomfortably hot and humid.  The only sources of food that we could find were little kiosks set up behind metal bars with things like overpriced tuna and corned beef; on a side note, canned corned beef is EVERYWHERE in the Pacific, I dunno why, but if you like the stuff, any island will be able to keep you well stocked.  We kept walking, our resolve fading, quickly until we finally passed a little shack with a list of 5 prepared meals, all of them in Tongan.  The only one we understood was “Kentucky”, which we correctly assumed was fried chicken.  Someone actually came in, ordered that, and told us it was really good, so we ordered the same and just decided to split the very large quantity of fried chicken and manioke.  It did in fact fill us both for dinner and cost a grand total of about $2.50.  After getting our food, we walked back to the hostel, ate, and took cool-off showers.  We lucked out big time with this place, because there was wifi, so the rest of the night, we planned, booked, emailed and paid for things before going to bed.
Our first full day, we had the breakfast that was included in our hostel stay.  At about 10am, our cab driver from the day before, Mana, came to pick us up for our day tour, along with a couple other girls.  Our first stop in town was the market.  No matter where we are, we always enjoy the markets.  Along with the normal vegetables and fruits, we inevitably find some alien edibles.  We also get to check out the local handicrafts and some of the prepared treats they have, usually baked goodies.  There have been a lot of really good baked things in the islands, so we’ve indulged a bit in carbs.  We drove around town to the King’s house, surprisingly understated, big, but understated, and the graveyard of the old king’s tombs, which are mounds built high above the ground in tiers, capped by the normal sized mound you might see when a body is buried below; it seemed a bit anticlimactic.  We made a few stops throughout the tour, including the South Pacific’s “Stonehenge” named Trillithon, I’m not coining that myself, I’m quoting the guide books.  I have not been to Stonehenge, but if that was any indication of what I might see, I think I’ll pass.  We stopped to have some lunch from some vendors on the side of the road; we read that one of the traditional cuisines was the same taro leaf in coconut milk that we loved, but in Tonga they add meat or fish, so we were siked when this vendor sold that dish.  We were however, incredibly disappointed when the whole thing was sort of ruined by the bones fat and miniscule amount of actual meat inside.  Unfortunately, we had ordered two, so I gave mine to Jared for dinner.  We saw more tombs of old kings, along with the standard front yard graveyards, the Mapu ‘a Vaea blow holes, Hufangalupe land bridge, which sort of looks like an area where the earth has just fallen away into the ocean creating a natural bridge in the earth; we went to an inconspicuous house, which Mana said belonged to the Queen and saw a ton of gross fruit bats in the trees, and lastly to the Anahulu underground caves.  I was a bit suspicious of Mana’s knowledge of Tongan history during the tour, because I would ask questions, such as the religion prior to the arrival of Christian Missionaries to which he responded that Tongan had no religion prior to Christianity…hmm, that doesn’t seem right.  Later during our stay in Tonga, a man lamentingly explained to us that the church seems to have “beaten” such knowledge out of the Tongans.   At the end of the tour, Mana dropped us back off at our hostel, and we had a bit of dinner, before showering, playing on the internet and heading to bed. 
On a side note, there are a few things that I want to address.  Normally, when you travel to these “Paradise” style islands, you might not venture into the culture, politics, and beliefs of the people, but I’ve learned a few things along the way that seem to ring true throughout the Pacific.  I explained in Samoa how the church exploits the locals, impoverishing the impoverished, well the same seemed to ring true in Samoa; though Samoa did seem a bit wealthier is a country.  It is actually illegal in Samoa to walk around without a shirt; when people swim on public beaches, they are to wear shirts and long shorts.  I understand how the church thinks in regards to people showing their bodies, but it seems interesting that a people that walked around half naked a century ago are now so staunchly opposed to the sight of flesh; it also seems a bit impractical on super hot small islands, I’m just saying.  Samoa is the only surviving monarch in the South Pacific, though, much like Great Britain, there is a Parliament, Prime Ministry and local elected officials.  The Tongans do not pay taxes, and when I asked how they paid for things like roads and city maintenance, everyone said it was from aid money.  But none of that aid money was being used for things like agriculture and education…are we aware that this is happening!?!?!?  I met a guy, Harry, from the US who works with the Peace Corp.  I think he’s doing a great thing and that Tonga is really lucky to have people willing to dedicate themselves to educating the population…in theory.  In reality, Harry lives on a teenie island (which I’ll get to later) and teaches English class in the small school for two hours a day…that is it.  That is all he does with his time in Tonga; I’m sorry, he also seems to drink an excessive amount, or at least excessively talks about drinking.  In a country like Tonga, I think resources like money and actual humans could be put to much better use than they are.  Just a bit of food for thought.  Oh, by the way, I feel pretty bad for Harry, he seems excruciatingly bored living on this really small island with no one to hang out with.  Lastly, is anyone aware of China’s presence in the Pacific Island region?  In every single island we’ve been to, the locals tell us about the Chinese.  In Tonga, they were physically present more than we noticed in any other place, with almost all of the small kiosks selling food run by Chinese.  Apparently, the Chinese are benevolently donated buildings, construction material etc to the Pacific Islands in exchange for the right to fish jussssttttt a bit in their waters.  Seriously?  “Just a bit” of Chinese fishing is like a hostile takeover of the underwater kingdom.  There is nothing that the Chinese government uses “just a bit” of, there are over a billion people there!  Alsooooo, word on the street is (and I learned this from the owner of the hostel in Nuku’alofa while sipping Noa with him) they are trying to post naval bases on these islands.  Poor poor Pacific Islanders.  At least there is some resistance, because all the land is privately owned and passed down through the generations.  So we’ll see how that goes. 
Alright, back to adventures.  Tonga was actually probably our laziest country (though I’m saying that as I’m sitting in Fiji being especially lazy, so it might end up being a lazy tie in the two countries; I’ll let you know); almost all of the islands are coral islands, rather than volcanic, there is no hiking or trekking, so the options are pretty limited to beaching and culturing, though as I mentioned before, much of the traditional culture seems to have been…replaced.  We did still get to see a lot of traditional attire; almost all of the men and women wear sarongs and shirts and large tightly woven grass skirts over the sarong; pants are almost never worn.  The tradition of dancing is less prevalent on the island also. 
The day after the tour, we packed up our things again and got picked up by Mana to go back to the airport.  We were flying to one of Samoa’s farthest island chains, the Vava’u islands.  The flight was easy, and we were quickly picked up by a cab driver.  We weren’t exactly sure of where to stay in the city of Neiafu on Vava’u, so we told him to bring us to a backpackers, and easily found some cheap accommodation.  It’s been low season everywhere we’ve been, so we were actually the only two people in the hostel; love when that happens!  We settled in and decided to head out for some information on how to spend our five days there.  The actual Information Site was closed…at 2pm, so we instead found a Go Kart tour place, run by a couple expats, and they surprisingly we able to help us set up all of our activities.  It’s a very small community, so the woman was able to call everyone directly and set things up for us on the spot!  She did toot her own horn and convince us to go on a Go Karting tour around the island, which was really the only way to get out of town unless you wanted to hire a cab.  So we booked that for the afternoon, and headed to the market to pick up a few things, including manioke, which we had never prepared ourselves but wanted to try some local unknown items.  When we got back to the hostel, we made some lunch, where I peeled and boiled about 1/9th of the manioke, and did not like it at all!  Uh oh.  Next we put on “clothes [we didn’t] mind getting dirty” as instructed by the Go Kart woman, and headed out.  By the way, all these things were within probably 100 yards of one another, so nothing was a far walk.  Jared and I shared a kart, and we drove out of town to see some of the better things on the island, including a few lookouts, Utula’aina Point and Keitahi and Ene’io Beach.  To be honest, we had the most fun during the tour driving like maniacs through the woods in the Karts.  Jared was more of a daredevil behind the wheel than me, but we did both get to do some donuts, and without helmets or seatbelts the whole thing was probably a bit more exhilarating!  I have no idea how people get to the places without a kart, there is no road and the path is often so overgrown and occluding I can’t imagine trying to drive a car through it.  Anyway, normally I would look at propaganda for tours like that and scoff at how cheesy it must be, but it was actually really really fun.  We were so covered in dirt and dust by the end, I was actually picking out huge eye boogers of dirty until the next morning, gross!!  After the tour, we took showers aggressively scrubbing the dirty off.  We grabbed some of the local beer, made a surprisingly good dinner where I made chips out of the manioke, and settled in for a movie before bed.
The next morning, we woke up early, grabbing a nice breakfast, before heading out for a snorkel trip with a man named Don.  Along the way, through the islands surrounding Vava’u, he told us a bit about the history of Tonga’s European discover and Polynesia including the mutiny aboard the HMS Bounty by Lieutenant Bligh.  On the trip, we stopped at two caves, one about two yards under water, and completely sealed even during lowtide, that was apparently used by William Mariner, the British teenage ship clerk that was spared from Tongan cannibalism, lived in Vava’u with the native and returned to England years later to write a book on Tonga; that would be an interesting read!  We swam two reefs, both with really nice coral life, but not a ton in the way of fish.  Damn Chinese government.  Anyway, we were the only two people on the tour, so we got to spend as much time as we wanted in the water, and by the end of each swim, I was freezing.  Don provided us with snacks and a light lunch along the way, before heading back to shore and treated both myself and Jared to a couple of margaritas at one of the handful of local bars set on the bay and run by expats; it was there that we met the Peace Corp volunteer, Harry.  It was also at this location where we learned of kava, a local drink made from basically sticks, ground up into dust and mixed with water; the drink apparently has narcotic properties and people spend ages drinking at night and singing together.  Say what!?  Yes, we could participate!  They also told us about a rum punch that we just HAD to try, so it was looking to be a sloppy night for us.  Once we had finished our margaritas and chatter with the local expats, we made our way back to the market for a few more groceries and to the hostel to clean up and make dinner.  Unfortunately, after dinner I was wiped out from the sun and snorkeling, but Jared braved on and went to a kava bar to drink with the locals.  By the time he was back, I was passed out.  He reported back though that drinking at that kava joint was by donation; he paid 10 pa’anga (the currency) and was able to drink an unlimited amount of kava…but he preferred to just try a bit.  The first glass made his mouth numb, and the rest had no effect, but he got to watch as the locals participated in impromptu sing-a-longs.
After a good sleep, we leisurely woke up, ate breakfast and packed our bags.  We were headed farther into Tongan country to a very small island called Ofu; there was one backpacker lodge there and that was the only place to stay on the island.  Late morning, a man picked us up along with a few other people and drove us to the old harbor where a small motor boat was waiting, along with Harry hoping for a ride back out to the island where he lived, Ofu!  Jared and I were the only ones staying more than one night, and we had to bring our own food and water for every meal, so added to our normally huge amount of stuff and the two other couples, we packed in tightly on the small boat.  The ride was only about 20 minutes, and dropped us off at a small house right on the beach.  The family had built two rooms about 20 feet from the beach, and that was the entire hostel; thank gosh it was low season.  Our boat driver/the owner of the hostel gave us the ten-second tour and left…back on the boat to the main island, and told us he’d be back that night.  Literally, he left the place entirely empty when he dropped off six stranger to his home.  Anyway, we settled in to our cozy room, and immediately started doing nothing…but on the beach, so it was a good northing.  The water was clear and the beach was nice.  They had lounge chairs and hammocks, so it was an optimal reading/doing nothing environment.  We had planned on staying for 3 days, so we weren’t in a hurry to do anything but lie.  After a few hours, we grabbed some kayaks with a few other people, including Harry, and paddle out to an even small island with a super expensive resort on it.  There couldn’t have been more than 3 nice sized rooms on the entire island, which you could probably walk all the way around in less than 10 minutes.  One of the couple who joined us looked into staying there and said it was a bit of $400 a night; HA and we got to stay just a touch away for about $45 pa’anga!  The owners of the place we also expats, but they had gone away sailing for the holidays, so they left the place in the charge of a cute young English girl who was just, you know, traveling around.  Lord, that was a lucky find!  After throwing back a few beers at the beachside bar, we kayaked back to our place to get ready for dinner and watch the sunset.  I will say the place was pretty bare minimum, we did have our own room and bathroom; you don’t really need too much when your plan is to lounge on a beach, but the kitchen was pretty nasty.  They made zero attempt to perk it up as a kitchen to cater to foreigners; now I’m not a priss, but there were flies everywhere, no good sponges to wash things, junk left on dishes etc.  Gross.  I tried to make dinner as quickly as possible, while using as few things as possible inside the kitchen.  We decided to live off the land a bit, and grab ourselves a breadfruit from one of the trees around.  Jared went on a hunt, came back with a nice big one, which we cut into and…hmmm, it’s brown inside.  Is it supposed to be brown inside? I dunno, I’ve never seen an uncooked breadfruit.  Neither have I.  Isn’t it always white when we eat it?  Maybe it turns white when you cook it?  O, Lord.  I crossed my fingers and boiled the meat of the breadfruit, mixed it with our sautéed vegetables, and basically ruined the entire dish.  The breadfruit was definitely too immature to be picked, apparently they are not supposed to be brown on the inside.  Well, this whole “living off the land” thing is all about trial and error.  We chocked down dinner while watching a nice sunset, said goodnight to Harry and the two other people staying there, and headed to bed.
It was Sunday next, and we had heard there was not a lot going on on the island on Sunday.  Oh my god, were they right!  Somehow, people managed to do less than they had done the day before, which was absolutely nothing.  Church services started at 5am, then 10am and again at noon and 2pm.  The people who were not in church during any one service only left their home if they wanted to sleep outside in the shade with the breeze.  There was absolutely no one around anywhere; no noise, no laughter, nothing.  It was actually somewhat eerie, but it did make the place kind of feel like our own!  After hours of doing nothing, we grabbed the kayaks and headed out to a teenie island where we were in fact the only people.  I actually commented on the milestone we hit; we’ve been the only tour group on an island, sometimes consisting of just a handful of other people, we’ve been the only people on a beach, but never before have we been the only two people on an entire island.  I thought it was pretty cool!  Let’s seeeee, what did we do the rest of the day.  Oh right, nothing.  When we went back, I’m pretty sure we probably lounged again for a while reading.  Honestly, when absolutely nothing happens to the degree at which it happened on that island, things just kind of start to blur together.  At some point during dinner, Harry popped by as he was incredibly bored and in search of friendly faces.  I think that night was when I really started to feel bad for Harry, listening to his stories of solitude and cultural isolation.  Anyway, in a gesture of good will, Jared let him borrow his tarobyte hard drive and download shows and movies to his heart’s content, which he seemed to really appreciate.  In exchange, he gave me a chocolate bar!  I’m not sure how Jared won with that exchange, but I was happy. 
The next day was our last on the small island; we decided to cut it a day short for outbound flight reasons.  Anyway, not-so-long story, even shorter, we did nothing, took the 10 minute walk in both directions from where we were staying until the road was blocked.  At some point, we again took out the kayaks around the island, which we actually discovered is quite big, but only inhabited in that teenie area, which again, we were unable to explore any farther than the road cut off (like the Cook Islands and Samoa, all land is privately owner so we couldn’t just go a-wandering).  That evening, we packed ourselves up and hopped back on the teenie boat back to Vava’u and Neiafu.  We got back with a few hours of sunlight left and headed to expat run Bounty Bar for the supposedly amazing rum punch, which were in fact very good, and we even got comped an extra on by the owner.  We went back after to take a shower and headed over to a restaurant down the street; we were told that the owner’s son was a former Marine who returned not long ago, and Jared wanted to meet him.  Unfortunately, we did not find the guy, and instead, decided to stay at the restaurant to try their ota ika, which is basically ceviche marinated in coconut milk, sadly though, the dish was pretty bland.  After dinner, we went back to the empty hostel and went to bed.
The next was our last in Vava’u.  We had breakfast, packed and waited for our cab driver who took us to the airport.  When we arrived back in Tongatapu, Mana picked us up again from the airport.  On the way into the city of Nuku’alofa, Mana stopped on the side of the road to pick up some fresh fish and invited us to dinner with him and his wife that evening.  This time in Nuku’alofa, we stayed at a different hostel closer to town.  Upon arriving without a reservation, we were somewhat curtly shuffled into the dorm room, which ended up being the same price as the private room we had at Dayspring B & B, and without internet; we were not impressed, but it was right in town, so we decided to stay.  After settling in, we were immediately invited onto the porch with a few other travelers, locals and the owner of the hostel.  He was a local man who brewed his own liqueur called Noa, made from coconuts and coffee; it was really good and tasted a lot like Kahlua.  We spent the next couple hours sipping on Noa and chatting with everyone, until Mana came to pick us up for dinner.  He drove us out to his place, where his wife Isabel was waiting.  We spent the night sitting on the floor talking, drinking from coconuts, and eating the fresh fish she had cooked in coconut milk with peppers and sweet potatoes that wer blue!  After a few hours, Mana drove us back to our hostel, where we slept well.
The next morning, we woke up and headed to the market for breakfast.  We had planned on attempting to go to a small island called Eua for the next two days, but Mana talked us out of it, saying that the weather was meant to be a bit unpredictable, and our ferry back could very well be cancelled, which would make us miss our flight.  Instead, we thought we might take a ferry to a closer island just for the day.  Prior to heading out, we got walking direction to the port, and wouldn’t you know it!  They were wrong!  As instructed, we walked out to the coast and took a left; supposedly, the port was about a 15 minute walk along the water.  Turns out, we were supposed to turn right, which we were told by a local after about 30 minutes of walking without seeing anything resembling a port ahead along the water.  Unfortunately, because that had taken so long, if we tried to double back we would still miss the morning ferry out.  Jeeeez.  Anyway, we decided to just head back to the hostel and regroup.  We attempted a different route back, getting us a bit lost, but landing us smack dab in front of a different hostel, which had a private room for less that we were paying for a dorm room.  Gotta love those finds!  We raced back, packed up and left.  Since we had absolutely nothing to do, and we were now going to be staying in the city for the night, we went back to the market to pick up a few things.  We were pretty lazy the rest of the day, given a bit of rainy weather and humidity, so we just made some food and watched a movie that night.
The next day, we sort of debated attempting to go back to the port to try to catch another ferry, but questionable weather and extreme laziness prevented us.  Instead we lounged the day away reading, popping back over to the market for some more browsing and some ice cream.  In town, we ran into Mana who invited us to his place that night for a BBQ.  Later in the day, he picked us up and drove back to his place.  Jared and I grabbed a few drinks for “everyone”, which ended up just being me, Jared and Mana, instead of the 6 people that were expected.  Mana showed us how to use a machete or knife to form spiked…well they looked just like spears I guess, but they were used to cook the meat on the fire.  Jared and I were both pretty bad at making our spikes (a big machete is actually pretty heavy), and Mana took over to get all the meat on at the same time.  I bit later, he received a phone call from one of the girls who had gone on the city tour with us a few days prior, asking him to pick her up from the airport in a bit.  Hmm, bit of a conundrum as the meat was just put on the fire.  Now, you might think, no problem, Mana go pick up the girl while Jared and Kathleen just watched the fire and meat, rotating the sticks occasionally, right?  Shockingly, that was not how it played out.  Instead, Mana gave me the keys to his van and asked me to drive to the airport, giving me spotty directions, and just to bring the girl back there where he would drive her back to town.  Lord, that was a terrible idea.  I mean, it was fine in the end, I had no troubles getting there (there aren’t many roads to get lost on) and back, but it probably took me double the amount of time it would have taken him, because I was driving so cautiously in the dark…without my license on me.  Anyway, after a bit of a delay, we finally started our BBQ.  The other guests never showed up, so we had a surplus of cooked lamb and boiled manioke, which worked out well for me and Jared.  Late into the evening, Mana drove us back to our hostel for the night. 
Travel day as next; we had to leave Tonga.  We had a late flight, so we leisurely ate, packed and lounged around reading until Mana came and picked us up.  Our next flight to Fiji was the first direct flight we’d had in a while!

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