A CALIFORNIA YANKEE IN THE TONGAN KING'S COURT

Nicholas Royer

On March 29th, 2014, I boarded a plane at San Francisco International Airport, transferring planes in Auckland, New Zealand, for the flight to Fua’amotu Airport on Tongatapu, Tonga. Together with my family, I went for a two-year missionary assignment in order to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ in an international church there. Little did I know, that I would come to be within 15 feet of the king of Tonga!

Tonga is an archipelago in the South Pacific. It has 176 islands, with a total of 289 square miles, about one quarter the size of Rhode Island, or one-fifth the size of Sonoma County. The country’s population numbers approximately 100,000 people, seventy-five percent of whom live on the largest island, Tongatapu, which also houses the capitol city of Nuku’alofa. As a constitutional monarchy since 1875, Tonga is one of only three monarchies in the entire Pacific.

In 2015, I had the honor of attending part of the coronation ceremony of King Tupou VI. The actual crowning occurred in a large church, attended by the royal family, parliament, and dozens of journalists from around the world, but I was invited to the festivities that preceded the coronation. The celebrations surrounding the coronation were an interesting blend of old and new, European and Polynesian. The crown looked European, but the head it was placed upon was Polynesian. The feast was mostly traditional Tongan, (taro, puaka (pork), banana leaves), but was served with canned New Zealand corned beef, on disposable plates and utensils from China.

During the lead up to the actual crowning, there was a huge parade, in which all the schools and major companies on the island participated. The U.S. Marine Corps Forces, Pacific Band, Australian Royal Military College Band, New Zealand Army Band, and His Majesty’s Armed Forces Brass Band played various songs together, including the Tongan national anthem. Following that, the various Tongan military branches paraded around the grassy field in which the royal family was seated. Then kids from local schools performed traditional Tongan dances that spoke of the empire and history of Tonga. Finally, the king and royal family were brought onto a large platform with great fanfare by thousands of their citizens and countrymen.

As the soon-to-be King Tupou VI started to make his way towards the throne platform in his open-top truck, I made my way to the driveway the truck was going to drive along. Bear in mind, at this point I was a 19-year-old, Nevada born, Idaho raised, missionary/pastor’s kid. I hadn’t ever been to a dinner party, I hadn’t been to college, I certainly never dreamed of meeting royalty. I think I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, Wrangler cargo shorts, and a ball cap of some sort. I found out later, that I wasn’t dressed in the proper attire to even enter the field the king and royal family were sitting in! About the time it occurred to me that I looked like the geek that stole the embryos in Jurassic Park, I was standing beside the driveway the king of a nation was about to pass through.

I want you to think about this in American terms. Our respect and honor system in the US is REALLY lax; I could holler to the president, and no one would bat an eyelash. I could talk to him, and he would speak directly to me. Contrast that with the Kingdom of Tonga. To speak to anyone high up in the royal family one has to be summoned and then talk to the royal interpreter (even if they speak Tongan), who then tells the royal person what the commoner said in a higher form of Tongan. The royal then replies through the interpreter.

So there I was, standing beside this driveway, literally on the other side of the planet from my comfort zone, and the king’s truck is getting closer. I was there to take pictures with my plebian Canon T3 DSLR, so I supposed I would do just that, even if I ended up in some jail cell for dishonoring the king in some unknown-to-me way. I started taking pictures of the king, decked out in military medals, standing up in his truck (with its gold-colored roll bars!). He keeps getting closer, and from fear, and some form of wanting to show respect, I stop taking pictures, and stand there. I know I considered it, but I can’t recall if I actually saluted or not. I know I took off my hat, I’m not that ignorant. Then, as his truck gets within 15 ft, he looks at me and smiles! Looking back on the pictures I took, the cop to my right had his eyes very pointedly aimed toward the ground, he wasn’t looking at his king, but I sure was (probably with my heart in my throat). Then he was gone. There was something after the king’s truck, but I don’t know what. I had seen a king, taken his picture, he had smiled at me, and I hadn’t been tackled by security. I was one ecstatic palangi.¹

1. I was told that the word “palangi” means “sky people.” I took it to refer to the sails of European ships, but, whatever the literal translation, the term is generally used to denote foreigners. I was a foreigner, and ignorant of Tongan customs. The king, and other high officials, gave me a pass for my ignorance. They understood that I knew little or nothing of their customs, and that I meant no disrespect.