Hypocritical Sabbath'

The Traveller Landed On Tonga's

By a Traveller in Tonga

“The Sabbath Day shall be sacred in Tonga for ever and it shall not be lawful to work artifice or play games, or trade on the Sabbath.”

The words come from the Tongan Constitution of 1875 and still today they stand as the law of the land. I think there are few people—even among the tourists, who are usually regarded as an irreligious lot, who would disagree with the spirit of the regulation, but, after spending two Sundays in the kingdom recently, I cannot help feeling that its modern application has led to nothing but religious hypocrisy and chicanery.

Awakening on my first Sunday at Nuku’alofa to the sound of church bells, I decided to attend a service.

The sermon, in Tongan, was, of course, incomprehensible, but, like io many other visitors to the king dom, I found the singing of unsur passable beauty and listening to it was a rare spiritual experience.

Again, like many other visitors, I ound the Tongan hospitality un ;xpectedly warm and welcoming for, ifter the service, a smiling man ap proached me and invited me to come md eat with his family.

The home to which he led me was poor compared with many we passed, put the feast that was spread before is was filled with all the good things )f the land—with pig and chicken md fish and all sorts of vegetables. I vondered how my host could possibly ifford it all, but he nudged me and aid proudly, “From my bush—except he fish. I catch that last night”.

When the final grace was over, my lost said, “You must excuse me now. will take some of this food to the lospital. My second son is there with broken leg, but there is nothing /rong with his appetite”.

I remembered—on my way into awn from the airport having seen be fine new hospital that serves Tmgatapu. I remembered, too, that : was a long way out of town.

You’ll go by bus?” I asked.

He shook his head, “The buses do ot run on Sunday. I shall walk”.

“Let me get you a taxi,” I volun iered, hoping to be able to repay in ame small measure, his hospitality, ut he shook his head again. “Taxis re not allowed to work on Sundays,” e said.

Walking back to my hotel shortly

afterwards along the beach road, I found myself constantly dodging auto mobiles and motorcycles. Tongans, whom I questioned, affirmed my sus picion that, although the buses and taxis which would have enabled people of moderate means like my host of the morning to go on errands of mercy to the hospital, were against the Sabbath law, there was no restric tion at all on the movements of any one fortunate enough to own an auto mobile or a motorcycle. Obviously Sabbath observance was not so much a matter of principle as of wealth.

The following Sunday I observed an even greater show of governmental hypocrisy. I had sailed the night before for Vava’u on the ’Aoniu, a Tongan ship which is clean and ex cellently run. As we pulled into the port of Neiafu about sunset on Sunday, I went into my cabin to check my luggage—a suitcase and several cardboard cartons of food and miscellaneous household goods which I had brought for the friend with whom I would be staying.

Outside, the decks sprang into life as crewmen ran to ready the ship for anchoring and to throw the ropes to

the shore crew. I followed them and spotted my friend on the wharf. Soon he was on the ship greeting me and following me into the cabin.

“Is all this yours?” he asked look ing at the pile of boxes in the middle of the floor. I nodded and he shook his head. “There’s no trouble,” I said, lifting a couple of boxes. “We can take them between us.”

“We can,” he said, “but I don’t know if we’ll be allowed to. I’ll go and see.”

I went with him onto the deck where a smartly got-up young police man was sitting. In reply to my friend’s question he said abruptly, “No, you can’t take it”.

I had been told that the cargo in the hold would not be worked until Monday morning and thinking he had mistaken by luggage for cargo, I said, “It’s just the things from my cabin that we’re talking about . . . not things in the hold.”

“You can’t take it,” the policeman repeated and, looking at us as if we were the most unregenerate criminals added, “It’s Sunday. You can come back for it at midnight.”

My friend explained that we had to