A day in the life of a Tongan 

Toot toot, the horn roars from outside my paper thin walls of a house. Time to go, I grad my bag with the essentials - lunch, water and insect repellent. Sometimes it’s like walking into a war field, a million mosquitoes to four limbs and an unbitten face.

I jump into the car and we head on our way, today I am Doctor L J, a doctor of plants for farmers in the Northern west of the Tongatapu Island.

I breathe in, with the freshness of the island stirs in the dancing sulphur of the sea and ashes of traditional farming. It’s hard to maintain my excitement with the upbeat music of the truck, especially when we fly along at a speed of 40km/hour. The life here is said to be slow, but the slow I have adapted is now my normal. I can’t imagine going 60km/hour, I might vomit from speed sickness.

We pass churches on every corner, they’re the nicest buildings in Tonga, a convoluted economic system I am sure not to understand. Kids packed onto the back of farm trucks on their way to school. Big smiles and laughter is the common sounds here in Nuku’alofa.

10 minutes into the drive and we’re “in the bush”. Palms and coconut trees rage over the road, painting a picturesque rainbow of colors, I can’t imagine what New Zealand would’ve looked like before we slashed and burned the majority of our forests. Would’ve it looked this beautiful?

This is the place where dogs, chickens and pigs roam fat, no need for owners, they survive on the share generosity of the locals scraps and giving’s. Hopefully of course they don't become the meal. 

I love it when it rains here, it seems to be a glorified gift. The water consumes the land of Tonga and kids play in the gutters and puddles as swimming pools.

I wag my head out the window like a dog, worrying about the sanitary needs, about wearing seat belts, being bitten my disease ridden insects, and the people casually sitting on the top of cars as they zoom by. But the one expression that I am always told is “don’t worry”, I am getting better at that, but I still live in the Tongan culture with a kiwi personality.   

We arrive at our destination, 9am, stepping out into the 22 degree heat feels bitter sweet on my skin. Farmers come in like old family members reuniting after years of distance, when the commonality is, they probably saw each other yesterday, and they have no relation at all.

They sit down in front of us, some old, some young, some curious and some confident. There are 12 plant doctors in Tonga. And we're all on a mission to help increase the locals productivity and food quality to feed their families, and maybe one day, commercialize. 

I am unsure how I found myself in this position, but I have. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

The love shared in this country carries an immense pressure that I attempt to submerge myself with, in difficulty I think I will eventually get use to the feeling.

Anyway, my first farmer has just sat down.  

                                The first plant health clinic held in Tonga (Doctors and Farmers)