The Goodbye Speech

The Tanaki Tu’unga is supposed to celebrate the students.  It’s the last day of school, when each student’s position (tu’unga) is ranked (tanaki), when school supplies are awarded for test scores and attendance, and when everyone eats and dances together.  That’s why I was surprised my principal gave me a thank-you speech and a gift in the middle of the ceremony.  I was so surprised to receive the circular painted tapa pattern of Lifuka Island that I didn’t know what to say.  Thankfully I wasn’t expected to say anything.

My principal’s speech surprised me too.  To paraphrase, he said, “Sione Puputu’u, we know you are always , but we want you to please take with you only the good things.  Forget all the bad.”  I was expecting the “forget the bad” speech, as both Todd and Juleigh received the same advice at their assemblies.  I wasn’t expecting him to call me Sione Puputu’u.    

Puputu’u, as with most words in the simple Tongan lexicon, means many similar things: confused, I don’t know what to do, what’s going on?, I give up, or, I just want to put my head in my hands in frustration.    It is used often in my daily vocabulary.  I used the word so much that the nuns assigned it to me as a comical surname, and it’s popularity grew over two years to where strangers will call that name to me while I ride my bicycle through town.  My principal, however, never used that nickname, and never even called me Sione.  But now, several times throughout the rest of the ceremony, in a speeches from the deputy director of the school system and the deputy principal, and in prayers from the ministers, I was referred to as Sione Puputu’u.  With the word’s possibly negative connotations, I grew worried that my school thought I didn’t enjoy my two years. 

The next day I would have my chance to explain everything.  Students disappear after the Tanaki Tu’unga, but teachers return for one last day of a meeting and a feast.  This year it was also a “goodbye Sione Puputu’u” feast at which I would be required to give a formal thank-you speech.  After the opening prayer, when everyone grabbed for their roasted pigs, curries, lu, “chop suey,” root crops, and fizzy drinks, I stood up on the gleaming new tiled floor and gave the following words. 

[The first half is very formal and was written for me by my principal; I read it off a pad of paper.  The second half was entirely in my own words and spoken naturally without paper.  I probably made many mistakes but judging by the positive audience reaction they mostly understood me]

‘Oku ou kole keu fakamalumalu atu. I he talaaofaki kuo kamata ‘aki ‘a e feohi ‘angani.

Pea I he’ene pehe ‘oku ou fiefia lahi ke fai atu ha fakamalo kihe Tokoni Talekita ako (Sione Kaivelata) faifekau pule le’ole’o. Pehe ki he kau faifekau hono kotoa pe.
Fakamalo lahi atu ki he puleako, tokoni pule, pehe ki he kau faiako hono kotoa pe. Malo ‘aupito e ‘ofa mo e tokoni kotoa pe kuo mou fai mai ma’aku.

‘Oku ikai ke u ma’u ha lea fe’unga ke fakamalo atu’aki kia kimoutolu hono kotoa pe.

Ofa ke mou ma’u ha kilisimasi fiefia moha ta’u fo’ou monu’ia.

[I put down my paper, pause for a moment] 

Ko hoku hingo ko Sione Puputu’u koe’uhi ‘oku au puputu’u ma’upe mo e anga fakatonga. ‘Oku ikai ke u mahino ko e ha uhinga ko moutoulu fiekai lole ma’upe. ‘Oku ikai ke u mahino a e fanau’ako. ‘Oku nau pou’u lahi pea na’e ikai te nau fai honau homeworka. Ko fe a Litili? Na’e ne pau’u lahi. Na’e ne ako lelei, ka na’a ne pou’u. ‘Oku ikai ke u mahino ko e mohe fakaSefa. ‘Oku ne ngaue lahi ma’upe, mohe ‘osi hoko e 12 pe 1, a ‘osi hoko e 4, ‘aho katoa. Te ne ngaue lahi I he aho. ‘Oku ikai ke u mahino a e kole fakaTonga. ‘Oku mou fa’a pehe, “Fakamolemole Sione, ‘eku kole a e hele? Te u fakafokmai!” Ko ia ai ‘oku ou ave a e hele ka ‘e ikai te tau fakafokimai. Puputu’u lahi.

Ko ‘oku ikai ke u puputu’u fekau’ako mo homou anga lelei. ‘Oku ou mahino ‘aupito. Kapau ‘oku ou fiekai’ia, ‘oku ou lava ke alu’atu ki homou api ke kai. Kapau te u fie talanoa, ‘oku ou lava ke alu’atu ki homou api taimi kotoa pe. I Amelika, ‘oku ikai te u lava. I ha’apai’ni ‘oku malu ‘aupito ke luelue I he hala I he po’uli. Kapau te u sio ki he ha toko taha kona, te ne anga lelei ‘aupito o pehe, “Malo e lelei Sione.” Te u ilifia I Amelika. I Tailulu ko hoku matapa ‘oku ava ma’upe kapau te u ‘alu ki he feitu’u, pea ‘oku ikai ke u hoha’a ia moutoulu ke kaiha’a meia au. ‘Osi ta’u e ua, ‘oku hala me’a na’e kaiha’a. [think for a second] Ko e fanau ako na’e kaiha’a ‘eku hina kavamalohi mei hoku ‘api I he ta’u kuo’osi, ko sai pe, ‘oku ikai ke u ita. 

‘Oku ou ave ofa lahi kia Sefa, ‘eku kaungame’a sai taha. Na’a ne fakangofua’I au ke faiako I he pongipongi pe o ‘alu ki he falemahaki ‘osi kai ho’ata. Na’a ne fa’a inu uine mo au. Na’a ne fa’a kai me’akai fakapalangi mo au. Na’a ne fa’a talanoa mo au. Te u ave mei mei me’a katoa kia Sefa. I just wish I had more to give him. Malo Sefa.

‘Oku ou ave ofa lahi kia Hamoni mo Toa, ‘eku tamai mo fa’e fakatonga. Mo Honiala mo Lina, ‘hoku toko ua fakatonga mo tu’anga’ange fakatonga. TU’OFFEFINE! Tu’offefine fakatanga! 

‘Oku ou ave ofa lahi kia ‘Eseta mo Sifa, ‘eku tamai mo fa’e fakaVava’u, I he conferenisi. 

‘Oku ou ave ofa lahi kia Meaka, ‘eku moa Vava’u. Fakakata pe, fakakata pe. Kaungame’a pe. Vati, ‘oua ita ia au. 

Malo ‘aupito ‘aupito kia moutolu.

The first half is a formal thank-you to everyone who attended so I won’t translate it.  The second half is roughly translated here:

My name is Confused because I am always confused about Tonga culture. I don’t understand why you all like to eat candy so much. I don’t understand the students: they are so naughty and don’t do their homework. Where is Litili? He was very naughty. He studied well, but he was naughty. I don’t understand the sleep schedule of Sefa. He works a lot, falls asleep late like at 12 or 1 and then wakes up at 4. Then he works all day. I don’t understand Tonga borrowing. You are always saying, “John, can I borrow your knife? I will bring it back.” So then I give you my knife but you don’t bring it back. Way confused.

But I am not confused with your friendliness. I understand completely. If I am hungry I can go to you to eat. If want to talk, I can go to you any time. I can’t in America. Ha’apai is very safe if I am walking in the road at night. If I see a drunk person, they are very nice and will say to me, “Hello John.” I would be afraid in America. At Tailulu my door is always open if I go somewhere because I am not afraid that you will steal from me. Nothing was stolen in 2 years. [think for a moment]. One student did steal a bottle of alcohol from me last year but I’m not upset about that anymore.

I have much love to give Sefa, my best friend. He allowed me to teach in the morning and work at the hospital after lunch. He often drank wine with me [to which he gets playfully embarrassed and denies this]. Well, he ate lots of western food with me. He often talked to me. I am giving him almost everything of mine. I just wish I had more to give him. Thank you Sefa.
I have much love to give Hamoni and Toa, Tongan father and mother. And to Lina and Honiala, my Tongan brother and brother [used word for brother instead of sister, causes uproar of laughter]. SISTER! Tongan Sister!

I have much love to give to Eseta and Sifa, my mother and father in Vava’u for the conference.

I have much love to give to Meaka, my Vava’u girlfriend. Just kidding, just kidding. Just my friend. Vati, don’t be angry at me [Meaka and Vati were getting married the next day and the joke went over perfectly]. 

Thank you everyone.

I prefer funny yet meaningful over sad and somber, and I succeeded; I had the audience laughing at almost every sentence.  But I also conveyed that while I might be forever confused by Tongan culture, I also appreciate all the great things my community did for me.  I don’t need to understand why they are so generous and friendly.

Their generosity continued following speech.  After more heaps of praise they unveiled a table with Tongan handicrafts for me to bring back to the States.  Then during a break from speeches one teacher did a traditional dance for me and then another tried her best at juggling.  I had been asking months ahead for a traditional juggling show at my goodbye feast, so her gift was better than any handicraft she could have made or purchased.  Finally, my Tongan, “brother… I mean Sister!” unveiled that she had an egregiously unflattering picture of the two of us printed on a T-Shirt for me. 

I’m usually not interested in trinkets, I don’t know what to do with their tapa prints, I don’t usually wear necklaces, and I would never have chosen that T-shirt for myself.  But in this case it truly is the thought that counts and I love everything they gave me.  I will find places for all of my gifts and I will wear the T-shirt with pride.  Again, I don’t quite understand them, but I do appreciate them.