One Sunday in Tonga

Any Sunday in Tonga is a day for church, family, food and sleep. Saturdays, therefore, are busy, shopping at markets, doing domestic chores, & maybe a drink before midnight. The clock strikes 12 and the Sabbath begins. The mornings are early for those going off to mass at 5am, most lie in and appear dressed in Sunday best strolling with the family, in the back of a ute or Japanese 4-wheel drive around 10 – but yes, someone has to get the fire burning and prepare the ‘umu’ - underground oven – lots of manioc, taro, yams, pork or fish done in coconut wrapped in taro leaves... so yes I’ve been to church at least twice and since heard numerous choirs and photographed buildings of multiple denominations, not only the Wesleyan church whose missionaries arrived almost 200 years ago but several others including the Church of the Latter Day Saints, Seventh Day Adventist, Salvation Army, and Jehovah Witness, as well as the Catholic Church.

Now I was advised never to show up at the office on a Sunday (not even to check facebook...) or even to do exercise!!! I had a coffee on the verandah and guiltily sorted through some photos on my laptop... on Sundays almost everywhere, with the exception of the bakery dishing up hot bread, is closed. In town cafes are shut and hotel restaurants may close even when there are guests. One week I hopped on a boat to a nearby island for raw fish & a beer. Anyway, this morning I decided to go out and explore Tongatapu by bicycle (equipped with bread, water, swimsuit and sunblock). Setting off around 10 I managed to catch not only the church-goers, but all the wonderful choirs along the way. After a quick stop at the bakery I headed out of town past the hospital and the King’s country palace towards the east side of the island. Following my map with so few roads marked, because really there aren’t many, I wound around the lagoon till I reached ‘Kuki’s’ landing place (thinking the neighbours could rebrand as Kuki Islands). Not overwhelming as an attraction but a pleasant view and fits into Anne Salmond’s Trial of the Cannibal Dog – Captain Cook in the South Seas (a book I’ve been trying to read for years!). Met a group from Japan who were astounded by my cycling effort... I continued on, stopping to explore side lanes along the lagoon where dug-out canoes with outriggers set the scene. No fishing today though! Riding along I nodded as I passed people in their houses or on the road – and offered a ‘malo e leilei’ or a quick ‘malei’ to all – ‘Io’ being the usual response along with ‘bye’.

After quite some time riding I made it to the key attraction Ha’amonga ‘a Maui, a trilithon (not a triathlon as mentioned on some websites!) dating back to AD1200 explained through legends and a number of theories. However, as the interpretation panel didn’t quite do it for me, I was left with curiosity and in need of a marvellous storyteller to spin a yarn. From there I followed a nature trail opening to a coral stone beach. The pedalling continued as I rode down a not so well sealed road, potholes and coconut palms and not a car or person in sight for what seemed like miles. Eventually I found myself at the Stalactite Cave. Paying 5 paanga to turn the generator on I ventured in, ducking through the opening into what appeared to be a large cavern. The power appeared to also be taking a day of rest so I pulled out my flashlight (very well prepared thanks to Heather J) and clung onto the ropes there to save me from sliding off the edge away in neverneverland. Being alone in a dark dripping cave with a bat flapping around was not exactly magical but definitely made me think of all those horror movies I’ve watched as I sensed my batteries might fade... so I marched quickly back along the slippery trail and found a guy to sort out the light bulbs (much better!!!). I re-entered the cave with a completely different impression as I retraced my steps now newly illuminated (but not too much). At the end of the trail was a delicious pool – feeling hot and sweaty after all the cycling, my swimsuit appeared and into the water I slid. The echo of the ripples resonated and cheekily led me to new openings in the underground waterway. All of a sudden I wondered not only what might be around the corner but what form of life could survive in such waters... my shoes were back on and out to enjoy the beach at low tide. Colourful graves framed the view of a few kids playing in pools after lunch. Cycling back into town the legs were weary and as I wondered how much further, I noticed that the signs to where I’d been could only be seen if driving out of town. Although the open door of the golf club suggested a cold drink, only distant voices and yesterday’s beer and peanuts were present. Back to the bakery for some cake and a 7-up for a sugar hit which I enjoyed as I sat by the wharf in town just a block away from home. Dinner on the verandah with a cold beer, listening to the evening rain. Maybe next week I’ll settle for church, a feast & a long sleep!

So far it’s fair to say that life here presents itself with an eclectic mix of fairy  First, the crown prince’s wedding to a not too distant cousin arriving to the sounds of a brass band in a limo covered in plastic daisies onto a tapacloth driveway lined with neatly braided schoolgirls. The abundant wedding feast cooked by local families & restaurants even catered for gatecrashers (No I wasn’t there!). The following week, a new quest was on the horizon as talented girls vying for the Miss Heilala crown took to the streets. Week 3, young men with Viking hats flexing muscles & cheeky grins took over to find Mr Tonga 2012. Rumour has it that super yachts are now housing not only the richest Mexican on earth but also Mr Google and James Bond - Sean Connery was named but really not quite sure how Mr Google would survive without the fibre optic cable – a satellite link maybe?