rugby and scaley fish, Tonga

By my second week in Tonga, I've made friends with some of the boys and girls in our village, who we've met at church there.

One afternoon, the entire village shut down and we travel to the next village over to watch a rugby tournament. It was the first time I had watched rugby. Don't get me wrong here - there is no stadium or bleachers. It's a large grass field, lined deep with villagers on the sidelines hootin' and hollering with words I do not understand ... and kids hanging from the trees around the field, trying to get a better view. It was rough, brutal, glorious!! I have been fascinated by Rugby ever since.

But afterwards, we walked along the town and my Tongan friends ran down a pier and jumped into the water for a swim, with all their clothes on. Sure, why not? So myself and two other students jumped in too, and we swam to cool off for a bit, treading water. Within a couple minutes, one of the Tongan boys (pictured above in the sunglasses) had caught a fish in his hands. It was about ten inches long is all, small and silver, wriggling in his hands. I smiled. How cute! He caught a fish! And then I stared in horror as I watched him tear the fish in half with his hands, toss one of the halves to his Tongan buddy, and they both start eating it, scales, guts, head, tail and all.

He thought I was interested. Probably because I was staring. So he held it out to me, offering me a bite. Now, I know my manners, and I also don't know much Tongan language. So I took the bloody, scaley fish half, and took one large fleshy bite. I swallowed it, and it stayed down.

My first (and only) authentic Tongan Sushi.