FEAST

Tonight we were invited to a TONGAN FEAST, an invitation we were loath to decline and so, in due time, at five o’clock this evening, we showed up at Box Forest Wesleyan Church, all apprehensive as to what we might find. I think actually, I was fairly well prepared mentally for the experience; when I thought about it before we actually showed up I was like, hey, they’ll probably be a lot of people of a different race than I am and a lot of stuff will happen that I don’t understand, and I’ll probably be in the minority as a white person and the whole situation will probably be uncomfortable. All of this was running through my mind as we walked up to the church, but it was not actually making me feel apprehensive, since I’ve been in this situation quite a few times before, and so I figured I would probably be able to survive fairly well. Well, I think perhaps the most uncomfortable thing was the ice breakers that they subjected us to, but again, I think those were more about the dread after seeing them on the program than any actual trauma caused by the ice breakers themselves, since all we had to do was wander around looking for people from the same part of Melbourne as we are, and then do the same with people of the same birth month. Also, another situation arose which was probably rather embarrassing, though fortunately not for me. Apparently (and I don’t know if this is typical of all Tongan services or all Australian services at small churches, or was only for this one event this one time) every group that is represented there is supposed to come with an “item,” either a skit or a song or a dance or some entertaining little thing to present to the rest of the people. Well, apparently none of us knew that before hand, so we were left quite item-less and in a bit of a panic of what to do. Then finally Pete, the guy who was responsible for inviting us said, “Don’t worry guys, I’ve got an idea” but then wouldn’t tell us what the idea was. Well, when it came around to our turn, he brought us all up to the front and had us introduce ourselves. Then he asked the audience to pick out three of us to do a little activity. Well, earlier in the evening, one of the groups had done a song with Tongan-style dance actions that went along with it. These hapless three were abandoned on the stage, left to perform the dance/actions from memory with no assistance from anyone. That was quite an amusing thing to watch, since they didn’t seem to remember very much.

The rest of the performers, on the other hand, did quite an excellent job. There were a couple of different groups that did dance items, which were really interesting to watch. The last one that was presented was the most interesting to me, since that was the most traditional. It seemed like the dance combined something akin to hula dancing with a relative of hip hop. The men’s dancing part was much more energetic than the female counterpart, which seems to be in keeping with other Pacific Island dancing that I have seen, where dancing is predominantly a male phenomenon, as part of the warrior culture. It was really neat to see how, in the dancing as well as in some singing, which incorporated the Tongan language, these people are preserving their culture and incorporating it with their Christian faith. One of the most puzzling cultural encounters I have ever had actually took place tonight. We were watching a group sing a choral piece, when an older woman in a long black overcoat just walked right out into the front and walked up to one of the members of the choir, where I thought I saw her tucking something into her shirt. After she left, I continued scrutinizing, incredulous. “I think that woman just put money down her shirt,” I said to Katie who was sitting next to me. We were both pretty bamboozled, but then during a later dance number, it happened again, this time unmistakably so. What was this all about? Well, finally for the last item, the woman who was serving as a director of ceremonies mentioned that although it may seem embarrassing to us, it is a Tongan custom to show appreciation by bringing some money up and “putting it on them” (a nondescript way of putting it, if ever I heard it). So for this last number, about 10 different adults came up to different dancers and either put money in their shirt or laid it on the floor at their feet. I am glad they clarified this to us, or who know what I would have gone away thinking.

I think, however, the best part of the night was after all the entertainment was over, and we got to sit with some of the girl who were a few years younger than us and talk. They asked us about our classes, what “college” was like in America (here the word refers to high school), if we’d ever met any famous people (who they apparently thought could be found wandering the streets in America) and what driving and drinking laws are like in America. And we asked them what the rules at home were like, what kind of school they went to, what church services were like, the significance of 21st birthdays and what it was like to live as a third culture kid (without actually using the phrase, of course). This was such a neat time of fellowship and mutual learning. I may go back some time for their church service…