The forgotten princess

I was hoping to meet up with some royalty while I was Tonga and I did, but not in a way which I had anticipated. As I was bicycling up the coast one afternoon, I met this young girl. Quiet and unassuming, she held herself with such nobility and dignity that in my mind I began to remember her as "the forgotten princess".

Pangaimotu

When I was Tonga I had the chance to get away for the day to an island resort. I had the option of choosing a) an Aussie owned resort b) the German owned resort or c) the Tongan owned resort. I didn't go half away around the world to hang out with Aussies or Europeans. I chose c) Pangaimotu Island Resort owned by Big Mama. Big Mama was not in but I met some pretty great people and ate some amazing food.

(A big hello to David, Ashely, Ian, and Dewayne!)

If I got in a job in Tonga with a promise I could eat in the nice restaurants EVERYDAY, I'd probably have to move, it's that good. Nothing in the States can even compare.

Yes, it really did look like this. Pangaimotu is a yachtie hang out and if I had time that day I would have taken a cruise, but I headed back to Tongatapu for an invitation for a history making event (more on that tomorrow).

Tonga time is not the same as US time. And I'm not talking time zones here. I haven't found a conversion chart yet, but I'll post it when I do. Time is as Einstein said, relative. I had to ask people, "Are we talking Tonga time or American time?" That was somewhat helpful in a few occasions, but not really. What was most helpful was for me to say to myself, "Oh, we're talking Gary time." That's my husband. This was of my first clues that my palangi husband has a Tongan spirit. He loves to eat, sing, hang out at church, and is super laid back. That pretty much defines the Tongan way. If somebody had told me that the day we had married, it would saved me a lot of confusion.

Yes, that is a sunken ship in the background (probably a pirate ship) and I went snorkeling there. The ocean was just teeming with sea life. It was mind blowing! Note to self, "Next trip, underwater house for camera."

Got religion?

When I was in Tonga, I went to seven hours of worship services visiting various congregations and buildings. Worship is very important in the Tongan culture. On Sunday all businesses shut down and meeting houses are full throughout the day. Everywhere I went I was accepted with open arms and warm smiles.

Sisters

One bright morning after the rain had cleared, these women were about the yard doing their daily laundry as I walked by. All three had young children and graciously let me photograph them. As I was taking their pictures a young girl came out of one the humble homes that were gathered on the property and started to head to school. I inquired if I could take her picture as well. She agreed. The contrast between the women and girl was startling. There she was clean face, perfectly braided hair with a beautifully pressed school uniform. She was like the white dress that fluttered in the wind next to the worn clothes on their line, innocent, fresh, and full of possibilities.

The Palangi Goes Swimming

For the record, the Palangi is me.

It is the Tongan for word for someone who is white, of European descent to be more accurate. The young girl in the last image has albinism. I was the only palangi on the scene that day (and most others as well).

"Da Palnagi wanna go swimmin eh?"

That's what I heard a young boy yell out to me my first day I was in Tonga as I was down by the wharf watching the kids swim in the afternoon sun. Everyone seemed to think this remark was particularly hilarious. One thing I learned quickly in Tonga was that people will laugh at you, often and openly, especially as a "palangi". So when the boy from the water called this out, I simply hollered back, "Yeah, da Palangi wanna go swimmin!" I snapped a picture, shrugged off my backpack and camera, and jumped in, clothes on. We laughed...together, hard.

I didn't need to speak Tongan to know they were saying to one another,

"She's not really going to get in in she?"

They were surprised that not only did I join them, but I could swim quite well by their standards. This incident would precede me in a number of locations on Tongatapu.

The Fisherman's Son

This boy.

He sails through my dreams.

I close my eyes and see only him over and over again.

During my stay in Tonga, my computer was barely functioning so I wasn't able to review most of the pictures I was taking each day. Imagine my surprise when I found I had photographed this young boy on three different occasions.

And now that I am so far away I find myself looking through his pictures over and over again to see if I captured the spirit of this elusive elf. He seems so small in this picture and I feel so far way from that rainy day on the beach when I sat to watch him and his sister play while his father fished. Looking at him as he dances and leaps through my frames, I feel a unique kinship with him. He was the only young child who ignored me as he played. All the other children would approach me once they noticed me and pose for me, quite willingly, for a good amount of time. If I parked myself, hoping they would continue on with their activities, they assumed I stayed because I needed more pictures so they would generously invite their friends, siblings, and neighbors to have their picture taken as well. They'd even offer suggestions, in quite good English, of what other kinds of pictures I should take. From the teenage boys, I usually heard "Hey Palangi!" followed by some stunt, jump, or pose that look like it belonged on a rap album. I can't tell you how many fabulous pictures I have of boys jumping into the water and posturing with what looks like to this palangi, gang hand signs (ok, maybe I can, 800-1,000).

But this young boy seemed to know what I wanted and needed as a photographer. As his sister stopped her playing and smiled for me, he motioned for her to keep playing. As she turned to dash away, he shot me a quick smile of understanding over his shoulder and then completely ignored me for the next half hour . They ran about the beach continuing their endless game of tag as I sat and photographed them. It was only that as I was leaving that I approached them for a closer shot. I look into his eyes and can't help but wonder if our lives will not cross again. If I came away from Tonga with only his pictures, I would have left a happy woman.