Sorting out medications at the guest house, meeting up with the US Peace Corps and a bizarre night out.

Toni asked me when I arrived on Tonga, if I could sort through some medications at the guest house. As everyone may have established,  I think many of our common values are not in sync. However, I always have my nursing duty and too believe that things like medication should not be wasted for no good reason, but also that it should be given safely.

I did a similar thing for the not for profit medical organisation 'Assade' in Mexico. Both Mexico ans Tonga are given a lot of medications from overseas which have already passed their used by date. This is not right. Rich countries would not use out of date medications for the risk of toxicity or the active ingredient weakening/not working, so instead they give the drugs to poor and uneducated countries that have limited access to basic essentials.

I taught Toni about what all the drugs were used for and how to give them. There were a lot of inhalers in that stash. Toni has Emphysema from smoking heavily in his past life time. I can hear the same cough among many Tongan people here, again either from smoking or from a recent outbreak of bronchitis. I'm sure the burning rubbish doesn't help.

Today my humpback whale diving was post phoned due to bad weather. So instead today, I decided to make my way out to the 'fishing pigs' (a place where the pigs swim and catch fish in low tide). But that means making it out at low tide which wasn't until this evening. So I decided to take the bus out earlier, have some lunch and read my book until low tide.

So I found out which bus I needed to get on. That bus driver told me to get on a different bus then the second bus driver told me to get on the original bus, so I did. I told the bus driver where I was going on the map and to please stop there. A kind person on the bus did the same for me. A Mauri woman on the bus warned me 'i hope that driver knows where you want to go. ' I assured her that the bus driver had been told twice where i was going.So of course the bus driver never stopped.

Towards the end of the entire route, another Tongan guy on the bus commented on this 'the driver was told where to go but now we have gone too far.' And he re informed the bus driver about this.

Then the bus driver says to me at the end of the road 'where you wanted to go was about 10 minutes ago.' Indeed, my friend, you speak the truth. Oh, island life.

When I finally made it to the fishing pigs site, the tide was not low, it was raining and I couldn't see anything wrong except a few poor,  run down houses. I asked the bus driver if there was somewhere I could eat. He just shook his head. Not even sure if at this point,  he has understood anything that Ive said.  I decided to stay on the bus.

I spent the afternoon exploring the town. I got my hair cut my this fantastic gay haidresser called 'Kiola' who wore eye make up.
 

 I ate the local fried chicken with Casava, both equal parts of junk food fantastic and making your arteries sore (the locals love it). The people at the restaurant let me use their bathroom, seeing the kitchen of this place was amazing. Smiling people out the back with a floor so greasy you have to tip toe and smell of fat so strong it nearly knocks you out.

 

Later I found the US Peace Chores. I spoke with Geoffrey, a Nurse Practitioner from California, who speaks Tongan as he has been married to a Tongan lady for over 20 years. Geoffrey was last here years ago and is now here running the Peace Chore. He taught me about their medical clinic. They assess and  treat people on the island for minor illnesses as they have a small pharmacy.  Those who need blood work are sent to the closest city, and those who are really sick will be flown to places like Australia for treatment. I told Geoffrey that I wanted to do this kind of work,  but that legitimate agencies are hard to find, and information is impossible to get in Tonga, unless if you turn uo at someones doorstep. I gave Geoffrey a background of my experience in Nursing and he set me up with some contacts. It would be great to do this kind of work and learn the local language.

So this part I am writing on Tuesday the 22/09 as I headed out to meet Attila and his colleagues after writing the first part of the blog. I am not feeling great today, my stomach has been turned upside down! Not sure if it was because I picked every cocktail on the menu or the huge meal or the humidity. At random times through the night, all I could think was: 'this humidity is kicking my arse.' No fans, so sticky,  no matter what.

Sio dropped me in to to a bar called 'Billfish' to meet Attilla. Sio said that one thing that he always tells travellers before they go out is 'be yourself.' As soon as I arrived,  some local women and their white husbands invited us to sit with them. These women are a rowdy lot, they say that they go to 'church' (the bar) 3-5 times a week. They proudly say that their job is to 'look after their husbands'. I wonder how difficult their retired husbands must be to have to be looked after full time. The night was fun, but all a bit bizarre.  One of the younger brothers of the rowdy women (can't have been older than 18), was shyly asking me questions about my perspectives of Tongan and Australian culture and economy. Within about ten minutes he was trying to ask for my number, but I think his mum managed to drag him away while I appeared (both naturally and unintentionally) confused.

I met a Tongan guy who was shy about his job, I found out he is a part of the royal family.

Later, one of the White retirees  (to the younger Tongan girl). Said that he wanted to know more about me. I said that he could ask me anything. But I'm not going to write here what he asked! Bold indeed.

On the way home, Sio, the young driver from the guest house was asking me if I was married and if I would return to Tonga. Would I return this year? He said that he wanted to tell me something, but would tell me as I was leaving. The young fellas here dig the older women it would seem!

I am reading 'Eat Pray Love' while I am here. The author says that in Bali, the answer to give people when they ask you if you are married is 'not yet', regardless of your situation. Perhaps I should say the same here?

Nofo a