Kingdom of Tonga.
Let’s start with a map.
Tonga is an archipelago located in the Pacific Ocean. It is surrounded by Fiji, Wallis et Futuna, Samoa and Niue.
Tongatapu, the main and biggest island, is 260 square kilometres. That’s where I had the chance to work as a woofer, in a village called Veitongo, 5 km from Nuku’alofa, the capital city.
The daily life at the farm will be related in another post. What I would like to share here is a specific story of serendipity and “beatitude”.
In the middle of two weeks at the farm in Veitongo, I did a trip by myself to islands of the Haʻapai group.
I first spent a few days on Uoleva, in this little “fale” (bungalow), on the beach amongst coconut trees.
Barefoot from dawn to dusk, following a natural rhythm of sleep and eating, I enjoyed the quietness of the place, the welcome of the locals and the beautiful surroundings. My main activities: swimming in the ocean and reading in a hammock!
Were given to me two of the most precious gifts of nowadays: time and silence.
I very especially appreciated the silence of the night. Indeed, it made a big difference with the barking of dogs and cock crows I was used to at the farm.
There was no village on this island, or school, or church. Only 3 guesthouses with families welcoming a handful of travellers. In total there were 9 permanent residents in the whole island, and currently on this side, 4 other tourists: an Argentinian couple and two women from Australia.
The sun was variable, we had several rainfalls and wind. But it didn’t matter a lot, given the fact that when you go and swim you are wet anyway! And I had a good book to dive into otherwise.
With my mask and snorkel, I went exploring the underwater world: rocks, corals and fish, and even continued the fauna exploration on the beach with hermit crabs and a big spider.
You might think after a few days it was boring. Well, it could have been… but it wasn’t.
A recurrent feeling I noticed in Tonga: every time I had the sensation that I had examined a spot from all angles, something unexpected happened and re-enchanted the place. This kind of surprise happened several times during my trip.
One day, when coming back to my “fale”, I felt like walking further.
After leaving my footprints on several hundred meters of beach, I discovered a small beach bar, its owner a guy from South Africa, as well as a Kiwi couple who was sailing with its own boat across this part of the Pacific Ocean for five months. They had used their dinghy to come to shore and have a drink at the local “Yacht Club”!
I didn’t expect to find a bar here in such a remote place! We talked and laughed a lot, we shared stories and discussed about what made us love life. As most of the New Zealanders I had met in their homeland during the previous months, they were super nice. They invited me to a barbecue on the beach the day after.
The picture below shows the sunset from the beach, with their sailing boat and a volcanic island in the background (whose name came out of my head).
That night Bruce and Chris also offered me a ride to Lifuka, the main island of the Ha’apai group (3 000 unhabitants). Returning to Lifuka was actually my initial plan but I couldn’t do that on my own because of the Sunday. In Tonga indeed, on Sundays everything is closed and there is no bus or boat or even flight service. Nothing outside of praying, eating and napping in family.
It was thus a great opportunity! Not only I would have the time explore more during the two days I had left before my ferry back to Tongatapu, but I could also enjoy sailing for a little while. I was delighted.
During these moments, I truly appreciated the beauty of travelling. My story was writing itself: I barely had time to imagine the future, it changed according to new parameters. At this moment, my wish was to keep “surfing” on this wave and to not interrupt this so rich and extraordinary lifestyle.
A few kilometers thus on the majestic blue boat.
Breathing at the bow, feeling all the cells of my body, remembering the present moment: I was on a sailing boat on the waters of the Pacific Ocean, from an island to another. This was priceless.
Back in Lifuka, in the afternoon.
First, that feeling of “what am I going to do now?”. On a Sunday as a tourist, indeed there was not much to do. Except walking around.
Never tired of walking, I went to both sides of the island (10 min to cross!). I wasn’t expecting anything more from the day. It was already awesome enough to sail from an island to another with new friends and share a fresh lunch with them!
Wandering around in the village, my only encounters at the beginning were dogs, chicken and pigs.
Then, suddenly and very softly, I heard voices. People were singing, all together, the sounds brought by the wind coming from the ocean.
I came closer. I stumbled upon a procession: men and women in traditional clothes, dignified and reverential. Children were all dressed in white.They were so much into their song and the meaning of it, it was very touching.
It was obviously a religious celebration. I didn’t want to interfere but someone waved his hand to signify that I could follow the group, which I did. This is typically the kind of event you feel shared as a traveller: on the one hand, you would like to see what’s happening and take pictures to pay homage to the beauty of the scene and be able to remember it, on the other hand you feel like staying in the scene and living it, because it is what matters most.
They stopped at a temporary place of worship. I put myself on the side. There, I managed to exchange a few words with one of the elders. He confirmed there was no problem for me to be here as well as for pictures.
Then they left, in procession again, still singing. They walked a few dozen metres and reached a church to continue the celebration inside. I sat quietly at the back of the church.
I don’t believe in a god, but what was happening before my eyes was beyond religion. Seeing these strong Tongan men kneeling and singing with all their heart really touched me. I cried. It was a beautiful moment of grace, a singular moment when I felt smaller and bigger at the same time.
It didn’t last very long, but enough to forget time was passing. Time was flying somewhere (else), here we experienced eternity.
An old man told me that this was no ordinary Sunday. I didn’t get exactly what he explained afterwards, so I never totally understood the meaning of the ceremony.
A few organized group pictures with the kids. I was the only white person and the only tourist in this crowd. As the place is not a major tourist destination, they almost did not pay attention to me. I felt relieved not to be noticed.
I was lucky to experience something like this, nor expected or wanted, and so authentic.
It is incredible how you feel lighter when your heart is full.
I was full of gratitude, not only for this particular moment, but for my whole travels.
Thought I had enough joy and emotions for the day… Before coming back to my sleeping place, I looked for a good spot to watch the sunset. A beach would do.
Thus I sat there, in front of the ocean. Waves breaking on the reef about 200 meters from shore roared incessantly. They gave rise to ripples who came to lick the sand, more gently, a few meters away from my feet. The wind, the declining sun.
The Pacific Ocean has never been better named. Almost no waves.
A tiny butterfly came and flew around me for a second, then left.
That was how I finished my day.
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