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Tongan
Medicine, Spirits and All
By Robert
Bryce
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September 2006
| We
have all heard of Witch Doctors, Medicine Men, and the lore of their strange
methodology for healing, spirits and all. Have you ever wondered
if any of what has been bandied about for centuries might be true?
Well, back in August, my wife and I and our nearly 3-year-old daughter
had a first-hand experience with this ancient and dubious healing method.
We certainly got more than we bargained for, and I thought the experience
was worthy of reporting.
We live in
the Kingdom of Tonga, an outpost in the South Pacific that is largely unknown
to most of the world. It is rich in old tradition, some of it stemming
from nearly 2000 years ago. Aside from the Christian missionaries’
influence, the culture remains very native Tongan with little else diverting
its inhabitants to the Western ways we expats are familiar with.
We live in the more remote Vava’u island group of Tonga, but have an air-
and seaport, and even grocery stores; not to forget ACE Hardware, too.
Vava’u is an
interesting merge of an early culture still using horses and dugout canoes
for transportation mixed with some late-model cars, Western-style homes,
and even a hospital with real doctors. Cars or horses, much of the
population here still functions as it did hundreds of years ago in its
way of thinking and societal customs. Evidence of this attachment
to the past is seen today in their dress code. A mat woven from leaves
around their waist is as commonplace in Tonga as neckties in New York.
Where in the world do you find a whole society still wearing the residual
of dress before cloth was discovered?
The holding
on to some of the past practices also exists when it comes to medicine.
Thanks to foreign aid, a hospital with 65 beds (mostly empty) sits atop
a hill with the appropriate number of overseas-trained doctors and nurses.
The hospital concept appeared here in the 1960’s, I am told, making one
wonder what they did before the arrival of this gift. Now I know.
Some of the
native population have little use for the place, having been self-sufficient
healers for decades before its arrival. Not that they don’t appreciate
it, for they will use it for all it is worth, maybe much like a church
for some, just to be sure everything is covered. Their indifference
to much of our Western ways exemplifies things here in most every department.
They need little from the Western world, but enjoy the perks for what they
are worth and for as long as they last. When it comes to medicine,
many locals seem rather confident in the Tonga way, and maybe for good
reason, for much of our Western medicine comes from the same herbs, leaves,
seaweed and roots that they use. The difference being in how it might
be shaped into a pill and sold in a new bottle as opposed to a recycled
“Fiji Water” bottle with a piece of tape on it to note what it is---and
in Tongan. So, Parke-Davis or Mama Tua’tuita, we expats still don’t
know what is in either container.
At least here,
you can sit with the preparer and talk about every detail of what is in
the bottle. Try that with any drug company. Tongan native medicine
and its purveyors are alive, well and busy. Probably the greatest
endorsement of Tongan medicine is when the hospital can’t seem to affect
a cure and recommends someone who can administer Tongan medicine.
So many stories of these referrals abound. The medicine people come
in two styles, Medicine Men and Medicine Women. Calling them a “medicine
person” isn’t politically correct out here (love that concept) and they
don’t wear weird masks, paint their faces or carry bones around in a bag.
Our medicine
lady was, as pictured below, a sweetheart--smiling, warm, and the most
comfortably pleasant lady (whose name I shall reserve from print just in
case there is a mad rush for her magic). She has up to 100 people
in a given month to tend to, and seeking her out would disturb things.
She never charges for her services, but this doesn’t contribute to her
popularity, for none of the medicine people charge, more the Tongan way
than a Medicine Man policy. Accepting gifts is another thing, and
who wouldn’t be motivated to give a little when healed? Most of her
patients are local natives who would normally give her family food and
Tongan mat or tapa cloth. Most convenient for us was to offer a gift
of cash. She awkwardly but graciously accepted it. I told her to
quickly convert it into needed goods as it is a Western medium with a stigma.
Our healing
story begins with our young daughter who came down with a debilitating
illness that resulted in a severe urinary tract infection. Kids get
fevers and colds, and these illnesses come and go, but this one became
symptomatic rapidly and stayed for longer than welcome. We started
our medicinal quest with a local pharmacist and local expat doctor.
We were properly prescribed some antibiotics which our daughter took for
a few days. Things got better from the standpoint of symptoms, but
the urine test showed little improvement. So, off to the local hospital
where a stronger antibacterial medicine was prescribed, one more suited
to the infection. Our little daughter was showing no improvement
while on this medication. This failed attempt to cure ended up with
my wife flying with child to the capital, just one hour away, to the main
hospital there, which had more cures to offer.
This time the
tests resulted in a specific identification of E. coli in her system.
A very strong antibiotic was prescribed by a competent doctor whom we trust.
The new treatment was to go on for two weeks and, returning home, mother
and child were feeling much better. After the two weeks, our daughter
had a urine test performed at the local hospital which indicated there
was still bacteria, trace blood, and now protein. A worrisome situation,
but seemingly under control judging by the low count. The doctor’s
advice was to wait a week and test again. During the wait, if noticeable
symptoms reoccurred, we were to run her back to the main hospital in the
capitol. Intravenous antibiotics and hospital confinement was what
we had to look forward to next.
Meanwhile,
a concerned Tongan friend of mine asked me and my wife if we would like
to have a lady who practiced “Tongan Medicine” come by the house and treat
our daughter. We asked what the procedure might be and it seemed
harmless, so we proceeded on the basis of “What do we have to lose?”
He added some assurance by stating she always heals. |
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The procedure
would last nine days with nightly visits from my friend, his lady friend
(the main promoter of this treatment, thanking her again) and our medicine
lady and her young daughter. The medicine daughter was learning how
to manage her gift and was a sixth-generation member of the family to carry
on this unique tradition.
Day one, I
was a bit apprehensive not knowing what surprises we might encounter, with
our precious and dear daughter taking the brunt of what was to come.
The evening progressed with bathing her in a tub full of leaves.
Medicine lady and medicine daughter rubbed the wet leaves all over our
child in a massaging way. She didn’t take to this strange event right
away and cried a little to show her anxiety but not in a very fearful way.
Lots of sweet words, loving comments, and big smiles from the three women
doting over her won her over, and soon she was fine. The leaves were
removed from the tub, put in a plastic bag and taken with the medicine
crew. We offered to throw the leaves out, but our healing duo insisted
on tending to that, and for reasons we did not yet know. The leaf-darkened
bath water was drained from the tub by my wife, to their chagrin.
Seems they wanted it for something---but all was well…we thought.
The next night,
after thinking about their insistence in taking the leaves away, I asked
what they had done with them. My Tongan friend did most of the interpreting
since our medicine lady knew little English. The answer was, they
threw the leaves into the sea from the bridge on their way home.
Why they did that was getting complicated to understand, but ended up as
being a resolve for the proper disposal of any evil spirits of sorts that
the leaves might have soaked up. I have lived here long enough to
have become accepting of much of the Tongan way, often calling life here
an Alice-in- Wonderland ‘real-time’ experience, but this sort of voodoo
was still very foreign to me. Like a scene from an occult movie,
I skeptically asked if they had “noted any such spirits about this evening?”
The medicine lady reported that she often has this experience and would
let me know. I thanked her for that, and we proceeded on to page
two of our strange treatment program.
This time we
were advised to use a smaller tub, so we got out our old baby bathtub,
and medicine lady and daughter prepared the brew with different kinds of
leaves and warm water for another bath. We squeezed our little one
into the familiar tub, with my wife overseeing the ladies cooing and speaking
in their native tongue while bathing our golden girl in funny green leaves.
Our daughter seemed very comfortable, smiling away and listening quietly
to the ladies’ melodic voices. While the procedure unfolded, I visited
with my Tongan friend in the living room.
My trusted
friend answered some questions for me and told me more about our medicine
lady as we nibbled on our nightly treats from the bakery for this ongoing
event. I wanted to know more about this Tongan Medicine stuff, for
tonight they were going to give her a little herb tea and some Noni tree
juice. The Noni we are familiar with and know it is popular with
many overseas, and costs a fortune there, as I recall. Here it grows
in every yard for free. He reconfirmed how they would take the berries
and leaves and make the awful-tasting stuff, but known to be so good for
you--always the case when it comes to medicine, natural or otherwise, I
suppose. They fed it to her in small doses, eliciting a very sour
face from the patient. My wife took some too, as she has in the past.
So we weren’t concerned with the Noni, but the other leaf brews needed
an explanation. Caringly, it was explained, and sounded vaguely familiar,
since we see these concoctions in the open market on Saturdays. Some
of our friends with friendly, but permanently sour looks on their faces
live by these strong-tasting herbs. Now I know why the look.
At the conclusion
of the herbal bath and after the leaves and child were removed, the bath
water was thrown, with our permission, down our steep walkway leading up
to the veranda of our home. This is why they wanted the small tub,
to save the water for the stair douche. The greenish water cascaded
down the concrete steps and with it any spirits that may have been just
out our door. Some of the leaves were put into a small cloth bag
and hung over the entrance way to the veranda for the same effect.
Who or what we were discouraging out there was still a mystery and even
to our medicine lady… until she got home.
The next night
brought news that this combination herbal treatment with voodoo insurance
was paying off. Our medicine lady saw and communicated with the ghostly
culprit in this ailment. Seems a young Tongan fellow, who had committed
suicide awhile back and was not quite done with life here, was troubling
us, in particular our lovely daughter. He didn’t like our treatment
program, she said. That was the idea, I expect. Meanwhile,
we accepted the story, and the treatment went well--the bath, the leaves
and a little more Noni and other herbs, which she knew to be helpful in
cleansing our specific problem with our daughter. This time they
threw the bath water all over the yard from the veranda and changed the
hanging tea bag thing over the steps, then sat down for the sweet treats
and more talk about Tongan Medicine and, specifically, our situation.
During the
conversation, interpreted by my friends, the sixth-generation young healer
became frightened and signaled to her mother that something was over her
shoulder out the window. The conversation abruptly switched from
English to Tongan, and the young lady became more agitated. This
rapidly developed into a hysteria whereby her mother had to hold her close
and my friends had to hold her legs to keep them from thrashing since she
was becoming quite unstable. My wife took our daughter from the scene
to her room while in the livingroom things got worse. There was lots
of Tongan language and excitement from all but our stoic mother of medicine.
I had no idea what the ruckus was, but had the audacity to film it.
When things
settled down, they explained everything, all speaking at once to add to
the confusion. Seems our deceased fellow showed up outside the veranda
and ripped into the young practitioner for being a part of his demise.
What he was doing and why would be revealed the next night, but that night
we had some insight into another realm of belief out there. After
everything became calm and collected, we bade our medicine team “good night,”
with a better understanding of the gesture.
Anxious to
learn more about what we knew to be a sincere and not staged outbreak the
night before, we quizzed our guests during the bathing and Noni-plus treatment.
Seems this guy floating around had a story to tell--something about disturbing
us to get to my attractive wife while sacrificing our little one.
I wasn’t sure how to read that, but I am not that smug as to pass it off
as silly, even though I still have a hard time accepting it entirely.
Tonga is all about humor, so my comment was acceptable: “Let me at’em;
I’ll smack him with a soggy leaf bag.” This was my first reaction,
and maybe he heard me, for he was nowhere about that peaceful evening.
We had nine
sessions in all, and after the seventh we got a urine test as directed
by the hospital. The results were 100% negative, no signs of anything
at all, no trace blood, no white cells, and no bacteria. We were
very pleased and found it difficult not to credit the medicine lady and
her herbal brews fully for this apparent cure. Considering the six
weeks’ prior treatments with prescriptions and doctors with results not
close to those after the natural but abnormal way of our medicine lady,
we remain convinced that at least the ingested medicines may have had an
effect, if not the spiritual expulsion as well. We remain open-minded
on all these things and are certain that there is more to this life than
what we seem to see.
By the way,
the brothers of our young healer were so put out by the intrusion and problems
heaped upon us and their sister by the spirit, they went to extremes and
rid the bones of this perpetrator from his grave, tossing them into the
sea.
And baby is
fine.
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