An Important Date in Peace Corps History

An Important Date in Peace Corps History

            They always say that 1960, when John F. Kennedy introduced the idea of the Peace Corps, was an important date in Peace Corps History, but here’s another--more-or-less as recorded in one of my 28 Peace Corps diaries.  Since the Peace Corps will be celebrating its 50th anniversary in September, I think it's time to resurrect my important Peace Corps entry written January 28, 1970 in the Way In Motel in Nuku’alofa, Tonga, in the South Pacific.

            So here we are, almost a decade after I, as a freshman in high school, heard Kennedy introduce the idea of the Peace Corps.  At the time I remember saying, “That’s what I’m going to do someday!”  And sure enough, that’s what I’m about to do.  After being in training for three months, it’s nice to be in country, about to put our training into use.  So far I haven’t been culturally shocked and have taken precautions against being culturally shocking.

            Jim and I held hands all the way here.  We skipped a day, crossing the International Dateline from the sky.   On the plane we flew into Tuesday, and before we knew it, we’d flown into Wednesday. 

            We crossed the International Dateline, where time begins, and landed in Tonga, where we began. 

            We arrived in Tonga in time for lunch, after having dinner in Hawaii and breakfast in Fiji.  We traveled as a group, of course, but in Honolulu Jim and “dated” for the first time.   I know it was a date because we used his Peace Corps living allowance.  Since we won’t have up-to-date movies in Tonga (or even electricity in most places), we decided to see three newly-released films in Honolulu.  The three nights we were there we saw “Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice,” “Hello, Dolly,” and “Cactus Flower.”  We ate and over-ate.  And wherever they’d let me drink without ID, we drank Mai Tais.

            Last night after I finished my third Mai Tai and Jim’s second one, Jim told me the Story of His Life, and I fell asleep in his arms right there in the corner booth of the restaurant.  I fell asleep because I’d never before had the chance to fall asleep in Jim’s arms and now, in my Mai Tai state, I had an excuse.  I thought it was romantic, but Jim thought it was insulting because he thought my falling asleep was a reflection on the quality of his life story.

            “Just wait, Tina,” he said.  “My life story will be a lot more interesting after a few weeks in Tonga.”  So will mine, but I hope mine is never so interesting that no one falls asleep in my arms.

            We rejoined our group after our Mai Tais, and, wearing the traditional leis that had been slipped ceremoniously around our necks, we boarded Pan Am.  We flew to Fiji, where we had breakfast.  Then, just before lunch, we landed at the Tongan airport in a little grass field, where we were given fresh leis and the chance to begin an experience that will enrich our life stories.

            Jim and I held hands as we went by bus through the island’s villages to Nuku’alofa.  Along the way, we passed a horse and cart, and we saw coconut and banana palms and coconut leaf huts, very blue sky, and then gray smoke rising from underground ovens—for our welcoming feasts, someone told us.

            “It looks,” I whispered to Jim, “the way you think it’s not going to look because things never look the way you expect them to look.”

            “Yeah,” he said.

            “You always expect foreign countries to look strange and exotic,” I said, “but they always wind up looking like Los Angeles or Boise, Idaho.”

            “Yeah,” he said.

            “But this,” I continued, “really looks strange and exotic.”

            “Yeah,” Jim said, looking strange and exotic himself.  And that was the last he said until two hours ago when we were at our communal lunch here at the Way In Motel and he leaned across the table over the papaya and said, “You’re the best date I’ve ever had.  Dinner in Hawaii, breakfast in Fiji, and lunch in Tonga.”

            “We should do this more often,” I said. 

            But it’s just about time for us to separate.  He’s going to another island, and I’m staying on this one.

            So here goes doing what I said I was going to do back in 1961, when John Kennedy was President and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King were still alive.  After all the terrible unplanned things that have happened since I started dreaming of joining the Peace Corps, it seems almost miraculous that something planned and hoped for is about to happen.

Note:  Jim Canning dropped out of the Peace Corps early and got into the Chicago cast of Grease.  By the time I got out of the Peace Corps, Grease was ready to Premiere off Broadway.  I read the script and knew it was going to be a flop.  Of course, it turned out to be one of the longest off-Broadway plays ever.  I got to be Jim’s date after opening night at Sardi’s, and that was a pretty good date, too, though not quite as spectacular as our date with dinner in Hawaii, breakfast in Fiji, and lunch in Tonga.