Copyright © 2016 by Thomas Gangale
Roxanne Tongilava, Denzel Tongilava, Bette Tongilava, and Jadzia Tongilava
It was my habit, after a long day of researching and writing my dissertation on the international law of outer space, to take my four dogs for a leisurely walk to Rodney Tui'nukuafe's liquor store, which was situated on a back street of Fanga which neither Google Maps nor Mapquest identified. The dogs and I would get a little exercise, and I would unwind while enjoying a cold can of Tafi or New Zealand Lager on warm afternoon (as though there are ever cold afternoons in Tonga), and while also enjoying the companionship of my dogs. They were the descendants of some of the ten dogs which Sione P. Tongilava is said to have kept in his home years ago. Three of my dogs were born under Sione's house on Hala Taufa'ahau, where I was then living, and for all I know, their mother was also born under the house before we moved in, so, all four dogs were named Tongilava. Marilyn named the mother Bette Davis Tongilava, because before we befriended her, she was quite feral, and she would fix us with penetrating stares as she came and went while suckling her puppies under the house; she had Bette Davis eyes. Of the first litter to which she gave birth after we moved into the house, Denzel Washington Tongilava and Jadzia Dax Tongilava were the survivors of six puppies. Roxanne Ursula Tongilava was the survivor of a litter of two born about 13 months later. So much for the genealogy, which is an important field of knowledge on an small island where everyone is related one way or another. In any case, the dogs enjoyed our walks at least as much as I did, as these were their opportunities to travel as a pack.
As I sat on the step in front of Rodney's store, leaned against a metal pole and sipped my beer, a sage young lad sat across from the dogs and me, with his back to the chain link fence, beyond which was the unnamed street. Many Tongans do not understand the palangi (white person) appreciation of dogs; rather, they grow up learning to despise dogs, to throw stones at dogs, and as the inevitable consequence of their cruelty to dogs, to fear them. Of course, Sione Tongilava and his family were outstanding exceptions.
Jadzia, as was her frequent pleasure, was licking my face like an ice cream cone in between my sips of cold beer. The Tongan lad voiced his objection to this. "You should not let a dog lick your face. Dogs are filthy animals. They eat filthy things. Then you get it on your face."
"Well. I'm 61 years old, and it hasn't killed me yet. There are very few diseases that are communicable between dogs and humans, and even fewer of those diseases are here in Tonga. How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Have you kissed a girl yet?"
"No."
"Well, don't. You can get a lot more diseases from kissing a girl than you can from kissing a dog, and worse ones, too. Open mouth kissing a girl is risky behavior. You can't get AIDS from a dog."
I suppose the adolescent virgin was embarrassed. He stood up. "I don't give a fuck!"
"Well, you haven't yet, anyway, and I advise you not to."
"I don't give a shit!" He stomped away.
"That too?" I called to him. "Well, that's a serious medical condition. Take care of it, mate."
He shouted back, "I'll kill your dogs and eat them!"
Hardly a week goes by that some Tongan doesn't express a culinary interest in my dogs, usually as a jest, which I regard as being in impeccably bad taste, so I had developed a stock answer, "You better have two thousand pa'anga for each one. The last guy who killed and ate my dog, the magistrate ordered him to pay me two thousand pa'anga or go to Tolitoli for six months." To this I added, "Looking at you, I don't think you can afford toilet paper, but you don't give a shit. The new friends you make in Tolitoli may be able to fix that problem. At least they'll give it a vigorous try, I daresay."
Having been kissed off with extreme prejudice, the young man darted off behind Rodney's store. It was not the most relaxing pause for beer at Rodney's, although it did have its diverting moments.
I see the guy at Rodney's now and then. He doesn't say much these days.
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