Home Sweet Home?

Despite steel wire covering all of my windows and three locks on my door I felt threatened throughout my first year in Tonga. I felt so vulnerable that I did not venture out to use my bathroom after dark. I was afraid because anyone who thought to do harm could easily crawl under my home to lurk in the shadows of my cement bathroom, not to mention persistent pouring rain, vicious dogs, and creepy crawlies.

I have ultimately grown comfortable in my own skin and feel at home in my “two bedroom” hurricane resistance house. Likely constructed decades ago by a New Zealand Aid organization and occupied by both Peace Corps Volunteers and Tongans alike, these structures are omnipresent throughout the kingdom. Basic yet entirely practical, my little wooden home provides not only shelter, privacy and security, but as my first residence I can claim as my own, I am afforded the luxury of complete and utter independence. Upon the death of my third and final “pet” dog, I have not had a living being actively noting my comings and goings in well over a year. No roommates to disturb or mother to inquire as to my whereabouts upon arrival home. Free at last.

Characteristic of most hurricane resistant homes, I have an “open air” ceiling - make that no ceiling at all. Exposed wooden beams offer structural support and significant aesthetic value. For reasons I may never understand, half of the walls in my house fail to connect to the roof, leaving a gap well over a foot long in length. Also absent within the confines of my exceptionally humble abode are doors, but what is the need for privacy when you live alone?

I suppose I do not technically live alone. I share my home with numerous brown spiders, geckos, cockroaches (both massive and minuscule in variety) and most regrettably, rats. There is great debate within the Peace Corps Tonga community as to what is worse, the spiders or the cockroaches. I prefer the spiders, you cannot hear them scurrying around at night like you can the colossal cockroaches. Furthermore, spiders have not evolved to fly, a terrifyingly freakish tendency of the cockroaches here. Rats are undeniably the worst type of houseguest, as they make little attempt to make their presence unknown. I presumably could lead a more pest-free life if I were to purchase Mortein, a powerful poison spray that keeps unwanted visitors at bay. Personally I believe that cancer concerns trump any apprehension I have about harmless vermin. I have adjusted to life cohabitating with my all too gracious guests, however, it should be noted that I am not above purchasing and using excessive amounts of rat poison.

I currently feel so content I sometimes forget to close my door at night. Around the same time my fears surrounding living alone dissipated, so did my concerns about exercising and hitchhiking alone. It is only a slight exaggeration to say that the entire populace of Vava’u knows me by name. I have been welcomed so warmly that it is difficult to accept any threat to my welfare at all, save the lone rat.

It is refreshing to live without the “bad guy is going to get you” mentality held by so many Americans. I do take proper precautions, however. No hitchhiking or running past sundown, I make a point to lock my door at night, dress conservatively, etc. I am not completely ignorant of risks involved with being a young woman living alone in a foreign country, however, it seems as though I have ended up in one of the most pleasant places on earth. Apparently Captain Cook didn’t nickname the Kingdom of Tonga “The Friendly Islands” for nothing!