Palongi from Heaven

It is cyclone season and there are 200 perilous miles of the South Pacific Ocean between where we are and where we need to be. 
We are trying our best to deliver Solar Buddy lights to children on remote islands of Tonga that have no electricity.  But we don’t know the way, don’t have a boat, don’t speak the language and most of these islands do not have a wharf, so you have to time your arrival with high tide and often jump off the boat and wade onto the shore carrying whatever you need to survive because there are no motels, no rental cars, and no stores.
Since we weren’t commanded to build a boat, we decide we could borrow one.  So much like Pirates of the Caribbean we managed to borrow a boat and a “skipper” and he drove us to an island. 
We got rained on, tossed about by high swells, and prayed like today might be “the” day, then we clawed our way onto what used to be a dock, tromped through the mud, dodged the pigs, avoided the barking dogs, got soaked in the rain and sweated at the same time, and finally found the school room full of brown-eyed kids looking out at two disheveled missionaries.  
We happened to arrive around lunch time, so our “Skipper” joined the local fishermen as they came in from fishing for the day and they all sat down on the beach and ate raw fish.  My too kind and loving wife stayed in the boat and ate crackers.  I ventured out and offered them crackers…they offered me the catch of the day.
But, I get ahead of myself.  Let’s start this at the beginning.  After weeks of planning, we had finally made complicated travel arrangements to deliver Solar Buddies. 
Our journey started with an airplane ride from Nuku’alofa.  As is customary, we arrived two hours early to get through TSA.  This was fortunate because I got to help open the doors to the airport, turn on the lights, chase a few cockroaches away, and wait patiently for another 1 hour 50 minutes for the airline desk receptionist to arrive. 
A passenger arrived 1 hour and 55 minutes after I had helped open up.  The desk lady asked the janitor something in Tongan…I definitely heard the word “Palongi” and then they laughed until one of them snorted.  “Palongi” loosely translated is “white guy”. 
Actually, it has a bit more meaning to it.  It is “white guy from heaven or the sky”.  To locals, my missionary tag implies I am from heaven or at least heaven sent. Apparently, what every Tongan knows that “Palongis” don’t, is that in Tonga nothing leaves on time, no one shows up on time, and there has never been a boat or plane leave as scheduled since Captain Cook discovered the island.
And he didn’t actually leave on time. The mooring rope broke and the ship just started drifting away from shore and since all his sailors had all been up all night drinking and eating roast pig they slept through it and didn’t wake up until they were near Australia.
I had a plan.  I was going to fly to Ha’apai, hop a boat, go deliver Solar Buddies and catch the late flight back and sleep comfortably in my bed knowing I had helped poor unfortunate “energy impoverished” kids see the light.  What could go wrong? But as I was saying, our trip got cancelled due to weather and plane problems.  
Our best efforts had only amounted to five hours of sitting in an airport and a cancelled flight.  Total expedition so far was 10 miles to and from the airport in the rain with zero Solar Buddies delivered. 
It was a major let down, but we are missionaries, so we don’t give up easily.  We have more zeal than a labradoodle playing fetch.  So we regrouped and went to the office to figure out how to get these Solar Buddies to the outer islands.
My intent was sincere and my dilemma real.  I had no idea how to cross the great waters and live to write about it I looked in the handbook and it said we should pray. 
No sooner than we got up off our knees and to my surprise, a gentleman, his name was Amanaki Funaki, came into our office unannounced because his travel plans had also been changed. 
Coincidence?  I think not.  Stopping in Nuku’alofa was a layover and so he didn’t have a rental car or place to stay.  He hitchhiked to our office and walked in and explained that he was from Vava’u and was the PTA President for his remote island village.
We explained to Amanaki how our flight got cancelled and we just happen to be here in the office.  Coincidence?  I think not. 
I have learned that these Tongans have simple faith, that prayers are heard, and blessings are the results of service and obeying commandments and inspiration.  He was sure the Lord had answered his prayers and so he apologized for getting our trip cancelled.  So, he volunteered to help us deliver our Solar Buddies. 
He explained that he is required to go to the small remote islands to check on the church members.  He was a treasure of information about the schools, how many students, which ones had electricity, which ones had a wharf, and he knew the Town Officers (Mayor) that are customarily contacted when you go to remote islands. 
This was all the information we needed and just a few hours earlier we had thrown up our arms up in desperation, I murmured for a few hours, and then my companion pleaded for the Lord’s help.
Funaki became invaluable to us.  Within a week we were delivering Solar Buddies to small isolated outer islands on a boat called Alma in a tempest tossed ocean. 
It was so amazing to see how the Lord answered a prayer and guided two clueless missionaries.  “And I (we) were led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which (we) I should do.” 
Yep, we were still in a foreign land, where we didn’t speak the language, there were no direction signs anywhere in the bush, no cell coverage for our phone maps, we were dropped off at a dilapidated dock in the rain with a bucket of Solar Buddies and the only one to greet us were the dogs that barked at us and pigs that grunted or squealed. 
But here was Funaki, the same as Sam Gamgee to Frodo, by our side walking with us every step of the way, at times it felt like he carried us as we slipped and slopped around through the mud to deliver Solar Buddies to a classroom full of kids. 
My best moment came, when a few shy girls kept trying to pet my too kind and loving wife’s arm while saying “Palongi” and then giggle as their friend did the same thing. 
I can vouch for her being white and heaven sent.