Viliami Finau

When joining the Peace Corps you are expecting to have experiences and adventures that will stay with you for the rest of your life and even change the way you think about certain things in this world. You are expecting to make an impact in the lives of the people you are being sent to help, that you will forever be remembered. In the end, however, you always end up leaving with the feeling that they made a larger impact in your life than you would ever be able to make in theirs. When your two years is over, you get on the plane to head back home and your Peace Corps experience is just that, an experience. You arrive back in the US and decide what you are going to do with you life now. Your Peace Corps service becomes a small part of who you are, but mainly becomes some of the stories you share at dinner parties, reunions or during the holidays about all the crazy things you have done and seen.

On April 17^th, 2010 at about 5:30 in the evening, my “Peace Corps experience” dramatically changed to real life in a matter of seconds with just a phone call. A phone call I hope that none of you will ever have to receive. My boyfriend’s sister called to tell me that he died during his rugby game. Not wanting to believe it herself, knowing we were inseparable, kept asking where he was. It was the first time I was not able to attend one of his games. And even to this day I do not want to believe it is true, he might, just might, walk through the door at any moment.

Viliami Kapa ‘i Matangivale Finau was 25 years old, the youngest of 12 children, from the island of Tungua in Ha’apai; a very skilled spear fisherman, rugby player and coconut tree climber, a true free spirited, fun loving and light hearted island boy; studying General Engineering at the Tonga Institute of Science and Technology, patiently preparing and planning to start a life and family with the love of his life.

Viliami returned to the island about a month after I arrived for my two year service. From the first moment I saw him I was intrigued by him: his personality, his care free spirit, his physique. I could tell he was unique and different from all the other guys I had met, here in Tonga and back in the US. The next day Pila came over to my house with his best friend, who I had already come to know, and invited me to go on a short boat ride to the other side of the island to get coconuts with his family. After that he took me on a horse ride through the village, along the beach and into the ocean, which turned into us going swimming – all the while trying really hard to speak in as much English as possible even though I could speak more Tongan than he could English.

Everyday after that, Pila would come over to talk and help me study Tongan, play cards and just hang out. Everything came so easy and natural with Viliami. From that first day we met, there was never a day we did not see each other or at the very least talk on the phone, many times a day, if one of us was traveling. We were literally inseparable. We spoke different languages from birth, though we communicated better than most born of the same language. Our extreme exotic differences in culture and way of living are what attracted us to each other. Our shared interest in each other’s way of life and culture and our ability to unconditionally love, accept and support each other is what allowed us to become so close so fast. Our understanding and love for each other grew stronger with every passing day. We grew together, learned from each other, helped and supported each other and just genuinely enjoyed doing everything with the other one at our side. Our relationship did cause some issues; many people here in Tonga could not understand why we were always together. They could not comprehend that this was not a crush, a fling, lust, just out of convenience or just because I was a palangi providing an opportunity for a better life – what we had was true unconditional love that transcended culture and language. All the challenges and hardships we encountered only provided us with opportunities to grow stronger and closer together.

Our time together was too short and I feel cheated. I am left here with many plans and promises that will never come to pass. But Pila has also left me here with his loving, caring and supportive family. I have so many words that I was never able to say to him, so many experiences and people that I will never be able to share with him. I do have a lot of wonderful memories, just not as many as I would have liked to have. It is difficult every minute of every day. I do not have any regrets about coming to Tonga, just regrets about taking moments for granted.

Before Viliami had met me on the island, all he lived for was to play rugby. When Pila died, he was doing something he loved very much. Viliami died from an injury to his neck that occurred during the scrum. For those of you who know nothing about rugby, like myself, that is the time when they are in a huddle pushing against the other team to try and get the ball. Pila was very skilled in rugby, fast and unnaturally strong – a true asset to his team.

A loss like this is difficult on its own, but being in a different culture, with different customs and speaking a different language has made it more difficult many times but also easier at times. Viliami’s parents and all of his brothers and sisters have been very supportive and have received me into their family with open loving arms. Without their love, support and acceptance I would not have been able to handle this loss in such a different culture.

Viliami Finau, ko koe pe si’eku ‘ofa mo’oni! I love you and miss you lahi ‘aupito. ‘Oku feingata’a lahi ‘aupito ‘aho katoa pe koe’uhi ‘oku ikai keu lava sio kia koe, talanoa mo koe, puke ho nima, fanongo ki ho leo, ongo’i ho’o ‘ala pe ‘uma kia koe. I would have been honored to have been your wife and the mother of your children, like we had planned…