Playtime on Oua
Kokamo's Pacifc Meanderings
Tom and Rachel
Sun 23 May 2010 06:03
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Kokamo has just reached
19:56.5S 174:43.0W Just off Hafeeva Island.
"Lollipop!
Bubblegum!"
The excitedly squealed requests
clearly marked a new level of acquaintance with the kids of Oua Island.
When we first let ourselves in through the gate in the fence
encircled village (to keep the pigs from wandering away into the bush), the
kids just peered at us shyly from the school yard. But then one of the
teachers sat on a mat under a white-flowering (hibiscus?) tree invited us
in, introducing herself as Monica. We shared her piled plate of mashed
up corn beef (the number one favourite out here) and tapioca, and
learned a little about this small village on an island a kilometre square.
There are about 30 households, with
lots of old people and about 35 kids, many of the middle generation having gone
to the main island, Tongatapu, to find work. The exception are some
young men who fish the wide expanses of emerald green reefs around the island
for the markets of Tongatapu. We met a couple coming home, incongruously
padding their way up the eroded earth street between the snuffling pigs, wearing
their wetsuits, carrying masks and home-made spear guns, and with bundles of
slimey squid and fish slung over their shoulders. Meanwhile, the ladies turn
pandanas bark, through an exhaustive process of drying and soaking, into finely
woven mats, again for sale back on the main island.
While we chatted to Monica,
pretending a little too keenly to like tapioca, the kids curiousity overcame any
shyness. When I asked if they'd like their photo taken, a riot broke out
jostling for best position in front of the camera, followed by shrieks of
laughter at their best hip-hop posturing when they looked at the
screen. Soon we were being dragged around the village by kids pulling
cartwheels and handstands up the two 100m long streets. Rachel
(worringly quickly!) adopted a dozen beaming girls.
"Bubblegum?!" I explained
to the boys that we didn't have any sweets, but that we'd given a load of
coloured pens to Monica back at the school. Surprisingly unbothered at being
denied a sugar-hit by such do-gooder foreigners, they showed me how to
throw sticks into the tree overhanging the streets to knock down it's sweet,
ripe oranges. Refraining from commenting that they tasted much better than
bubblegum anyway, we waved goodbye to the Monica and others, and headed back to
the dock in bustling gaggle of overexcited kids. Rachel was last seen
skipping in the middle of a line of giggling girls down the track under the
dangerously laden palms back to the dock.
(Photos to follow in a couple of
weeks when we get a decent internet connection).
PS. We had a request for more
natural history. Yesterday, we did see several 'flocks' of flying
fish. They have bright blue flashes down their flanks, and wide spread,
silvery pectoral fins as wings. Taking off into the wind, they seem
incredibly efficient at using the updraft from the wind over the face of waves,
and can easily glide for 100m or more, being out of the water for 20
seconds! You half expect them to give up on being fish altogether, start
chirruping, and land on the cross trees to build a nest.
PPS. Speaking of fish, flying
or otherwise: we still haven't caught ANY. Despite towing a line wherever
we go. We must be the worst/unluckiest fishermen ever...
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