Tongan Update, 26 November 2007, Tongan Thanksgiving
Well, I had enough to eat! How about you? Yes indeed, Thanksgiving is a day of food. I was asked to supply the mashed potatoes for our feast. Now that should be no big deal for all you wonderful cooks out there. But for little me…uhg! I had a practice session several days before Thanksgiving. I peeled a few potatoes, boiled them, drained them, and mashed them with a little salt, milk and butter. Ahhh…perfect! I was ready for the big day except…there was going to be 35 people at our dinner. I think every American on the island of Tongatapu was coming. It was at the Pope’s (not the Catholic Pope) home. They are an American couple who live here. They have a nice place on the beach, and it is traditional for the senior couples to celebrate Thanksgiving at their home. (The Popes did invite a few other people beside the senior missionary couples!)
Back to my potatoes…We bought three bags of potatoes. The potatoes here are very small so there were about 25-30 potatoes in each bag—that’s over seventy-five potatoes. Before I was even half way through peeling those little suckers, I had a blister between my thumb and pointer finger. It also irritated my weakened elbow that I have injured during my various kayaking experiences. (Suzi, you tell them!) John came to help out!!!
We had four pans on the stove boiling up potatoes. Then mashing all those starchy white vegetables was a nightmare. It took over two hours to finally have the end product—a huge bowlful of mashed potatoes.
We put smiles on our faces and headed across the island to the Popes’ with potatoes and snorkeling gear in hand. We could smell the baking turkey as we got out of the car. The buffet was a beautiful sight—a typical American Thanksgiving dinner. Then our Tongan senior missionary couple showed up. They thought we needed a little Tongan food to make our Thanksgiving complete. Elder Afiaki pushed the American dishes aside to make room for his dead pig—head and all.
It was its eyes and its tongue sticking out that made me feel a bit queasy. He had quite a story to go with it. Apparently he had bought the pig a couple of days earlier and had asked his brother-in-law to cook it up for him. So his relative somehow killed the poor animal (I didn’t ask how), then boiled him long enough so you can scrape the hair off. Next they put the pig on a sick and roasted him over a fire. He came out looking like plastic, kind of caramelized. Some people actually ate it and said it was good.
Did I tell you I had to make the gravy too? Thank heavens one of the departing missionaries gave me two packages of turkey gravy mix. I couldn’t mess that up.
After dinner the plan was to spend time on the beach, but due to wind and rain that didn’t happen. We did go shell hunting and came back to the house wet and wind-blown carrying our treasures.
Have any of you seen Shakespear’s play “Much Ado about Nothing?” That’s what this letter is about—nothing. I feel like Seinfeld.
We hope you had a great Thanksgiving!!!
‘Ofa ‘atu, Diane and John
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