Peace Corps Volunteer Jim Jawn in Tonga
7.1.2004 - Funny story...
Sort of. Well, first, apologies for the last post. I could delete it, but it makes me laugh... So today was the first day of training and it actually went pretty well. The stuff we talked about was pretty applicable, went out last night with all of the G66 volunteers to Luna Rosa (*Tourists, eat here. IT ROCKS! Get the lobster too, its worth it) transplant our regime to Wanda's and had a great time. It was definitely a lot of fun.
Alright, I'll preface this by saying I have absolutely no clue at all about what the heck Tonga girls are looking for or how to act or anything. They are a total friggin mystery to me. I don't know how to explain it. I just don't know. New group guys, you'll see what I mean. So last night, I was actually sort of complaining about Tongan girls in general and my aparent just awfulness at any and all atempts to sort of have a relationship or hook up or just take a relationship to that holding hand PDA's are taboo level. Anything that I would consider more than talking I fail miserably at.
So all of us have pretty much had our fill of beer for the evening, half the group has left early to get some shuteye before training and there is a couple of us left just sort of hanging out and finishing our beers. We start heading out. I do some ridiculous dancing type stuff on my way out the door across the dance floor and suddenly, this extraordinarily strong (yet supple) female hand grabs my shoulder and rips me around. Suddenly, I'm some dorky white guy filling in for the handsome latino lead in Lambada! The Forbidden Dance. I'm thinking "what the hell is going on here?" Well, when in Nuku'alofa, I do like the Nuku'aolfans do. I gyrate my pointy caucasian thighs like some spastic math major with muslce spasms. She's diggin' it! Unbelievable! This is outstanding! Her front gold tooth is shining like a diamond in the flourescent lighting. I think, just for a moement, I'm in love.
Just when I'm thinking life can't get any better, like a diligent postal inspector on a special package patrol, I get the full inspection. Jumpin Jehosaphat! I'm not going to go into any lewd details, but needless to say I'm overwhelmed. She's looking for an easy Visa, I quickly tell myself. She knows your money and she ain't no rabbit. This is just too damn easy! Fokisi!
By this time, however, I'm planning the honeymoon. "Maybe we'll have First Sunday before First Sunday and maybe, just maybe we can skip the wedding feast. I'll have to go to church at least a couple of times but that'll be worth it. I'll have to start saving for the kids college and send those invitations out..." Suddenly the music stops and the scorching finale of Lambada wind down. D'enouement.
Back to reality. We're not married yet or anything. Kick ass. So my Midas-toothed Tongan pixie grabs me by the hand and tells me to start murdering people. Well actually she didn't, but she could have, I felt like a dumb cow. She sits me down and we exchange these deep, soulful glances that peirce each others inner being. Actually, I still don't know what the hell is going on. I'm like "Peace Corps. Tonga. Your name is Jim." Just gathering my wits about me and such.
Well this kind gentlemen towering over me, gently taps me on the shoulder to give me the middle finger. I'm like "Strange, he must be American and not a Kiwi or Roo because he's using the middle finger. Oh yeah, he's giving that to me. Weird! I wonder what I did or how this gigantic gentleman knows me. Perhpas before I was married I may have been a bit rude. Well those days are behind me now, my friend. I'm moving on, I've got better and shinier things on my bunsen burner. His arrogant American sign-language has no time in my new life." My gold-plated postage inspector grabs me by the hand and directs us to another table. Thank Otua! That behemoth was quite intimidating don't you agree darling? Yes, Yes, quite right. Blah, Blah, Blah and then...
BAAM! Full on early 90's high school french kissing. This is sensory friggin overload. "You know, this flies in the face of all of the cultural training I've been so overwhelmingly prepared for. Are Tonga women always this wonderful?" I'm drunk, married, and at this point partly comatose. I feel like sleeping beauty (at the end, not the beginning). Suddenly these other white people that I used to recognize before Simi jr. was born, people from my old life, drag me back to reality.
Steve: "My that's quite the shit-eating grin you have there"
Me: "Oh yeah, Stevey what's up?"
Steve: "You alright?"
Me: Aside [What I think: Alright! Does this damn fool even know about the wedding? And the crazy wild passionate love I've been making! Damn him and his foolish questions] What I say: "Yes."
Steve: "We thought you went to the bathroom and we're just wondering where you got to."
Me: "Oh. My bad. See you at training tomorrow?"
Steve: "Yup." [Exit Stage Left]
So darling where were we? BAAM! BAAM! Double Baam! Kissing like the end of "The Breakfast Club" just explodes. Jesus, that couldn't have been more than 10 minutes since they left. Time has flown by. Suddenly, in the middle of the hooking up, I realize that Mrs. "We Deliver" isn't giving me the attention I so justly deserve. I open my eyes. Christ! She's not even looking at me! What the hell is going on! I've got all this time and energy expended for the wedding, the cake's already ordered and she doesn't even have the decency to pay attention to the foreplay! Son of a bitch!
Momentary hiatus. Well, 7 months in Tonga have made me nosy. Gossip is my Melrose Place. I stop kissing and look for the direction of the glance. Its Mr. Middle Finger Extended (MFE). Damnit! I've been had! I politely tell Mrs. Bizarre Love Triangle that I'm may be sexually repressed and funny-smelling, but I know a hustle and pre-emptive ass kicking when i see one. I kindly gather my wits, tux rental receipts, package and beer and get my palangi ass out of there as absolutely fan-digity-fast as I can. Disaster averted and I still got my cold Ikale.
And so my list of "Why Tongan women act crazy and why I'll never understand them" gets more intersting and complicated. Last night, my list got a "boyfriend that can kick you ass" corollary. Its getting complicated now, but the equation works in regular space-time, but doesn't work in quantum. I'll need to explore this theorem further when i return from new zealand.
Oh yeah, here's an aside, please don't take offense to this stuff, its more of a joke than anything else. Tongan women are great, I just have a hard time understanding them sometimes and my encounter last evening was not a representation AT ALL of what normal Tongan fefine's are like. It was pretty cool for like 10 minutes though...
So New Zealand Update? Supposed to be leaving tomorrow (I think). No hotel rooms booked, no itenerary, I'm not packed, don't know how I'm getting to the airport or who's coming with me. I don't know my flight number and I don't know really anything about what I'm going to be doing. Except for red and black dinner night (I'm wearing a red t-shirt.) And this is how every holiday should start. I'm sure I'll dork out and spend some time at the internet cafe's just dying to see if I got any comments on my site, so I'll be around. Anyways, wish me luck.
Alu'a,
Semisi
