THE COLORS OF TONGA

Another senior missionary in front of one
of our favorite flowering bushes.

There are seasons in Tonga, just like everywhere else.  That was one of the first lessons I had to learn - mangoes are not available year round, neither is any other fruit.  What?  The pineapples are finished?  Oh yes, this is an island, and since Tonga imports the highest proportion of food of any nation in the Pacific, we still have to wait until the next ship arrives to get the next shipment of milk, or wait for the rainy season to end to plant new tomatoes.

Keep in mind that the fence in front of the bush is about
6 feet high.  I love the way the bush just grew right
through the chain link.

The nice part about "winter" in Tonga is that you still get flowers, just different ones, like the yellow ones above or the purple ones at right.  I have no idea what most of them are called, but that doesn't keep me from enjoying their colors and their fragrances.  This purple bush at right is about 8 feet tall, and reminded me of some of the wild azaleas I used to see in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.

Flowers are planted purposefully, as well, and this amaryllis, which I photographed in March, finally succumbed to torrential rains in late  August.  The petals retained their delicate colors even after the blooms were on the ground.    This was in the garden of the LDS church across the street from us.











This picture at right shows the plantings in front of the mission office building - my favorite plant is the bush covered in tiny white blossoms.  Too bad the blossoms only lasted about 10 days.  But what  a wonderful fragrance!





And I love the way everything just grows together here.  In this picture there are at least five different plants sharing the same square foot of soil.  And they all seem to just thrive together.

The yellow leaves on the tops of plants are new growth -
the leaf comes first, then the chlorophyll! And yes, that's
a fallen coconut on the road.  They're everywhere.

The best plantings are in front of more established homes, where time has been the best ally to beauty.  I love this garden - this family has no other place than the front balcony to hang up clothes out of the rain, but the beauty of the front garden is not diminished by the realities of daily living.




And families are not shy about planting in front of their properties, either - this roadside fence is a simply a defining line between two gardens, rather than a boundary of property.





But the biggest winter surprise has been the amazing number of poinsettias here on this tropical island.  Red, white, and pink poinsettias are everywhere - some forming a wonderful hedge along the road, others just stretching up over other bushes (up to 8 feet in the air) and providing pops of red and white mixed in a hundred shades of green.

And then there are the giants.  This is another senior missionary hiding behind a leaf of kape (kah-pay), a root crop. A field of kape fills up a lot of space in a hurry!  And it invites certain senior missionaries to get silly...

The other giant leaves behind me are banana tree leaves.

The four of us snapped pictures, posing as Ninja Turtles and other such, but just so we could fit in some classics, here I am as the fairy queen from Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream!" Tah-dah!

The greens, reds, purples, yellows, and other colors of Tonga delight the eye and serve to remind me of the endless variety of beauty in this world.  What a wonderful place - just like so many other wonderful places on this planet.  

LEARNING IN ADVERSITY

Imagine yourself for a moment as an 18-year old boy, named Pahulu.  You have experienced debilitating pain in every step for months, yet the doctors have no idea what is causing the pain.  You have managed to get a pair of crutches, even though they are few and far between in this country.  That helps you get around the house, but you don’t have the endurance for much more than that.

Oh, and you’re not living with your own family.  Your parents have thrown you out of your family home, because you joined the Mormon Church.  You have been taken in by Lopeti and Luseane, a generous young couple who have no children of their own, but who share their home with you and six other young adult men whose circumstances are not so different from your own.  You get wonderful love and support from everyone around your, yet your heart longs for your own family.

You long for them, but your own family feels only animosity towards you.  When Lopeti informs your parents of your undiagnosed, painful condition, their reaction is to go to the family cemetery and dig your grave.  Then when you do not die in a short time, the family turns to prayer – praying that you will suffer greatly, because of your choice of religion.  Lopeti chides your parents:  “Where is your faith?  Why do you not hope for your son to be healed?”  Your parents have no answer.  But you hang on to Lopeti’s promise to your parents: “I will stand by him and support him with all my heart no matter what happens.”

This house is typical of most Tongan homes. 

Lopeti and Luseane both work long hours for meager pay, and you try to be as independent as you can, though you know you take a lot of their time.  You watch the other young men in Lopeti’s and Luseane’s home.  Joseph rises before dawn each morning to cook food to sell, so he can finance a full-time mission for the Church.  The others, David, Jeffry, Liva, Maikolo and Ensini, do what they can to bring in some money to help defray the cost of their meals.  Lopeti and Luseane do not expect rent; this home is for all nine people, as long as it is needed.  Lopeti says, “It’s hard to be a father,” and your mind completes the sentence:  “especially trying to be a father to sons who have already been raised by someone else.”  Yes, when something gets broken in the house, all of you still stiffen in expectations of being beaten, but Luseane simply says, “Let’s get a broom and clean it up.”  You hear Lopeti say frequently that “hands are for blessing, not beating,” but it’s going to take a while longer to stop being fearful when accidents happen.  Not being beaten, not being blamed when things go wrong, is still a new experience for all of you.

The Mormon chapels in Tonga are modest, but sturdy. 

Because you don’t want to be discouraged by the malice of your birth family, you have turned off your cell phone and given it to Lopeti.  Better to have no contact than negative contact, at least for now.  Perhaps their hearts will soften in time.  And Lopeti strengthens you many times a day, reminding you to seek solace in prayer, to remain faithful and strong in the face of this adversity, to forgive your family for their ill will towards you and try to feel only love for them.  You receive a priesthood blessing at the hands of a senior missionary, which provides comfort and strength, if not healing.  Now you can find peace even in pain, because you know in your heart that you are safe here, you are protected and loved, and you will be the better for this experience.  So you smile, and your face is an expression of calm assurance, your demeanor one of acceptance and endurance.

You know that Lopeti is a man of God, for he has shared with you a dream he had some years ago.  His father also opposed Lopeti’s choice to join the Mormon Church, and died a few years before Lopeti served a mission.  In the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, Lopeti dreamed he saw his father dressed in rags and in prison. His father pleaded with him to free him:  “Only you have the power and authority to free me.”  After a long conversation with the President of the missionary training center, Lopeti went to the Provo temple and did vicarious work for his deceased father, to provide him the opportunity to choose, in the next life, which path to take.  A few nights later Lopeti dreamed of his father again, but this time his father was dressed all in white, and had tears of joy in his eyes as he held his arms out to his son, saying “thank you, thank you.”  That experience helped Lopeti build his life around serving others.  Not for the first time, you close your eyes in gratitude for Lopeti and Luseane, realizing how blessed you are to be the object of their service.  You echo the words of Lopeti’s father:  “Thank you, thank you.”

Lopeti, Luseane, with Pahulu (seated) and two of the other young men in their home. 

You smile as you think of the way Lopeti and Luseane have applied one particular scripture in their lives:  “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”  (See Matthew 25:40.) And you hope you will be healed, so that you can serve in the same way that these two wonderful people do.  You hear Lopeti’s words echo in your ears: “When you see someone in need, you’ll feel the Spirit prompt you.  That may be Christ right there, waiting for you to serve Him.”  And you understand more fully how to be Christlike, because you see it around you every day.

FAREWELLS AND MIRACLES

We have had the pleasure of working with Elder and Sister Sanders, a senior missionary couple who accepted a humanitarian assignment here in Tonga.  Last March, we were a bit amazed (but not really surprised) when these two volunteered to take on a second assignment, that of inspecting, supplying and maintaining the 50+ little buildings called missionary quarters, where the young missionaries live here.  

Elder Sanders always wanted to get up-close and personal.
 Here he is inspecting a village water tank.

Sister Sanders knew better than to try to climb the
water tank ladder in a long skirt!

Well, the bad news is that Elder Sanders has developed some serious medical issues, and they have been sent home to Washington State.  There is a hole in our hearts, but we know that because of the events that have happened in the last week, the Lord has more in mind for this fine man and his wonderful wife.

Because of the limited medical care here in Tonga, the area supervisors flew Elder and Sister Sanders to New Zealand for a hospital stay and screening, to diagnose his trouble.  Our mission nurse, Sister Johnston, had been trying to get Elder Sanders to New Zealand for weeks, but he kept postponing the trip because of this project or that.  But when Elder Johnston got an abscess that would not respond to antibiotics, he was put on an urgent evacuation to New Zealand, and the mission president told Elder Sanders (and his wife) to go, too.  Tickets were purchased Friday evening for the flight to Auckland Saturday morning.

One of their few days off, at the beach.

While waiting in the airport in Tonga, the four missionaries met an LDS American couple who explained they had brought their adopted child, Tongan by birth, to meet his birth mother and experience some of the culture that was his heritage.  A pleasant conversation ensued, then everyone got on the plane and thought nothing more of the encounter.  They should have.

Arriving late in the evening, the missionaries decided to wait until morning to arrange treatment.  The next morning they found themselves at a nearby hospital emergency room, and the admitting doctor tried to explain that patients were not admitted on Sundays.  Then the supervising doctor came in to see what was going on.  The supervisor was, of course, the man the missionaries had met in the airport.  Turns out he works at three different hospitals, and “just happened” to be on duty at this particular hospital that morning.  Both men were quickly screened, and Elder Sanders was admitted as an inpatient. Miracle #1: check.

That evening, Elder Johnston found his abscess had begun draining.  This abscess, which had been in danger of going systemic and causing serious bodily harm within hours, simply began draining, once Elder Sanders was admitted. Miracle #2: check.

Elder Sanders’ prognosis is good.  The specialist in New Zealand has a brother who is exactly the kind of doctor Elder Sanders needs; and he just “happens” to practice in Elder Sanders’ hometown.  The Sanders, who started their journey home on Monday, had two appointments with doctors before they even got on the plane, and medical coverage assured from the Church.   Miracle #3: check.

The Sanders live in a rural area, and with the coming recovery period, Sister Sanders worried that because of the needs of their home, Elder Sanders would ignore doctors’ counsel to limit his activities.  Elder Sanders is a worker; he cannot sit for any length of time – he needs to be up and doing.  But Sister Sanders is very aware that in order for her husband to heal completely, he has to follow medical advice and avoid strenuous activity for three months.  Not easy for a man who has worked his own land and been a plumber for 40 years. 

Besides, before coming out on their mission, the Sanders rented out their house, and the contract is not up for another nine months.  Where would they live?

A couple of friends emailed the Sanders telling them they were going to travel to their daughter’s home, that they would be gone up to a year.  The Sanders looked at each other, smiled, and emailed a message:  do you want renters while you’re gone?  The return message began:  “The key is in the garage, the truck is ready to go, the cupboards are pretty empty – do you want our son to shop before you get here?”   And because these friends understand the power of pets during recuperation, they left their border collie behind, to stay with the Sanders.  Miracle #4: check.

Those are not all the miracles, but you get the idea.  The Lord takes care of His missionaries.  I believed that before, but now, with this experience, I have first-hand knowledge.  And Elder Sanders is not surprised.  He told us: “Why shouldn’t we expect miracles?  We’re out here doing what the Lord wants us to do.  We’re out here obeying our leaders, doing our best, and serving the people the way the Lord would serve them, if He were here.  So why should we be surprised when miracles happen?”

I am grateful for the faith and the faithfulness of those beside whom I serve.  It is hard on us to see the Sanders leave, but we trust that the Lord will continue to be mindful of this senior missionary, that his recovery may be complete, that he will be able to serve in other ways during the rest of his time here on earth.  And our friendship, our fellowship together, will continue to grow and develop.  Our paths may divide, but our hearts will remain entwined.  And we will continue to expect miracles.

The Sanders and our mission president and his wife.  

LAND OF WONDERS

Seems a man from Texas came to Tonga some years back, curious to compare farming techniques.  After spending a day on a Tongan “plantation”, the word for farm here, the Texan wanted to impress the Tongan with the difference in scale.  “This has been a wonderful experience,” said the Texan.  “But I want you to understand, it takes me an entire day to drive the perimeter of my ranch.”   The Tongan raised his eyebrows twice in acknowledgement.  “Oh yes,” said the Tongan, “I had a car like that once.”  (No offense intended, my Texan friends!)

Tonga is tiny, but it has its share of wonders.  And some of them are absolutely jaw-dropping. This tiny island nation, spread out over miles and miles of ocean, has many delights for the eyes, ears, noses, taste buds and fingers for those who will take the time to notice.

Let me remind you that if you added up all land of the 177 islands and islets that make up Tonga, you’d add up to a little more than four Districts of Columbia.  I live on the “big” island of Tongatapu, all 100 square miles of it – the size of DC and Arlington, Virginia put together. I have not seen all that this island has to offer, by any means.  But I have been awed by what I have seen.

To the east of Tonga, under the water, lies the Tonga trench, the second deepest point in the Pacific.  The sea floor here is the northeast juncture of the Australian and Pacific tectonic plates, and the Pacific plate is being driven beneath the Australian plate in a process called subduction.  Because of this process, there is frequent seismic activity in the area – we just had a 5.9 earthquake last week.  There are even underwater volcanoes being swallowed in this process.  I have been fascinated with the research going on that is documenting this dramatic event.  Here's a link to a news report from last November:

http://youtu.be/l_xbg_zU8TA

And we can visit the blowholes just minutes from our apartment and office, and be treated to a marvelous display each morning and evening.  From July to October, humpback whales frequent these waters, calving, nursing and tending their young.  We can see the whale spouts and flukes as these magnificent creatures surface, and now and then we are treated to a breach, when the whales jump out of the water, seemingly for the simple joy of doing it.  Mothers spend between 3 and 4 months here helping their babies grow, before they return to the Antarctic waters rich in krill, their main food supply.  The baby whales nurse and grow tremendously during these few months, but the mothers do not even feed.  Wow.  My biggest frustration is that the whales are always a few seconds ahead of my camera!

Closeup of a blossom cluster

My favorite perfume on the islands is the frangipani tree.  Even when this tree drops its leaves for the dormant season (I can hardly call it winter here), it keeps blooming, and the  palm-sized blossoms, either pink or yellow with white, have a gentle aroma that just makes me smile.

This tree is about 10 feet high, and loaded with pink blossoms.

This island of Tongatapu is proof to me that God has a sense of humor.  Even though this island is only 30 miles end to end, there are five different kinds of potato that grow here.  And one of them grows on a tree!  From “millimeter potatoes” that I grew up calling new potatoes to purple sweet potatoes to breadfruit (youth basketball-sized globes that indeed grow on trees) to the two-foot long “ufi” (OOO-fee), like in the picture.  Tongans can always get their starch, to go with their “lu”, corned beef wrapped in a thick, spinach-like leaf – a favorite at most family gatherings. Garden vegetables here are quite pricey, but you can always feed your family a kind of potato, and fill those empty stomachs. 

This is a screen capture of a Google Earth image.  

The Pigeon’s Doorway, or Hufangalupe in Tongan, is what happens when water, wind and erosion combine on the face of a cliff.  What looks like a sinkhole from the air is actually a chasm carved by the waves, with a natural bridge of rock and soil over a huge opening where the ocean rushes in.  

Low tide under the natural bridge formed by
 the rocks that  the waves can't reach.

The limestone cliffs are over 100 feet tall at the ocean’s edge, and even on the calmest day the waves crash with a humbling energy against the rocks. The volume is impressive; you have to walk away from the cliffs’ edge a good ways before you can talk to each other. 

Free-range pigs - a common sight here!

And everywhere, everywhere, are the birds, the fruit bats called flying foxes, the crickets that chirp every night year round, the varieties of floating jewels called dragonflies, the timid dogs and cats that scavenge for food, the free-roaming sows and piglets filing across the street – Tonga is a wondrous experience for me.  Can you blame me for wanting to stay forever?

I TRUST YOU

I am leading a course in effective teaching, and last week’s class included a discussion on making students feel safe in our classrooms.  I want to share one story shared with us during this part of the course.

I will call the student Siaosi (See-ah-OH-see).  He is in Kili’s homeroom, and she has a delightful relationship with her students.  She is definitely the boss of her classroom, but her students look forward to time in her room.  Her homeroom students begin the day with a scripture, a hymn, and a prayer.  Kili watched through the beginning of the school year (remember, school begins in January here), and after a few months, she noted that Siaosi, who is not LDS, was comfortable with the routine and began asking Siaosi to participate in the devotional routine.  He accepted, and contributed well to the good feelings in class.


Well, a while back, Siaosi missed three days of school.  When he returned, he explained that he had been in jail.  He had been waiting for a bus to school, and some boys from another school started teasing the Liahona boys, and the teasing turned to bullying, and the bullying resulted in a fight.  Even though Siaosi had been on the sidelines, he had been taken in by the police and kept overnight.  

Bringing 1200 students to school on privately-owned,  unscheduled buses means a transportation headache for anyone, even under the best of circumstances.  Throw in some teenaged impulsivity and you have an even larger problem...

A lot of students get transported to and from school in the open air!

When he was released, he walked to his home, only to find his clothing in a pile outside the front door. His mother, talking to him through a closed front door, told him she didn’t want him at home any more, because he would be a bad influence on his younger brother.  


Siaosi found another place to stay, and continued to come to school.  After a few weeks, he asked Kili for help.  “I trust you,” he told her.  After a long discussion, he picked up the telephone, and dialed his mother’s number.  “Hello, mom.  It’s me, Siaosi.  I just called to tell you I love you and I miss you.”  He hung up the phone softly - his mother had said nothing. Kili assured him that she would continue to support him, and promised him that she would help him find a way to make things better. Siaosi left her classroom encouraged by her words and actions.


A few more days went by, but then one morning Siaosi stopped in to whisper to Kili, “Thank you very much.”  No further details were given – the class was about ready to start and both teacher and student were unavailable.  But when all the classes took their lunch break at 1:00, Siaosi came back to Kili’s classroom to explain:  “I’m back home!  My mom let me come back home, and everything’s better.”

Students who feel safe in Kili’s room know that she will do everything I her power to keep them safe, physically, intellectually, and emotionally.  What does that say about effective teaching?  What can I do for one student today, for one person, to make them feel safe, to make them tell me, “I trust you?”  I think those are the three most powerful words a teacher can ever hear.