A quirky, endearing place where mom knows best

Granted, I would almost always prefer to be in the South Pacific - it's something about the postcard perfect palm trees and beaches, the complex yet welcoming cultures, and maybe, just maybe, the weather.

And Tonga is one of my favourite Pacific countries because it has all that and something a bit more, an unexpected wackiness that makes every walk down the street a delight. You never know what you are going to see, from a formal Chinese military delegation to the elegant transvestite contestants of the annual Miss Galaxy competition.

It's also a tightly knit nation - deeply religious, and quite traditional. The sort of place where things happen unofficially, so to speak.

For example, one morning a local pro-democracy newspaper editor had had enough of his neighbour's pigs rooting through his vegetable patch. He snapped, took his gun and shot one of the pigs. Within minutes his phone rang. It was his mother.

The neighbour hadn't called him directly, or tried the police; he had gone straight to where it would hurt the most. The editor's mom was furious at her son's behaviour and the editor ended up paying for the pig, and roasting it for a barbecue to be shared with the neighbour. His mother showed up with her friends to make sure it all went off, as it should. It's that kind of place. It's almost painfully human. And endlessly compelling.

But that's not why I want to be there now. This time it's because history is quickly getting made in a place where history usually moves very cautiously indeed. You see, on Sept. 10, King Tâufa'âhau Tupou IV died after 41 years on the throne.

Tonga is the last of the Polynesian kingdoms - the only country in the Pacific to escape colonization. The population of 115,000 or so is divided into royals, nobles and commoners and the monarch has near-absolute power.

When the late king decided on an education drive, the result was, a few years later, a country with one of the highest per capita Ph.D.s on the planet (mostly in the sciences). When the late king decided that, at 210 kilograms, maybe he should lose a little weight, the whole country got a crash course in a healthy lifestyle - and the king would bike up and down the country's runway to inspire his subjects.

But now the king is dead. Oh, there is another one in the wings (there always is). He is the king's son, soon to be George Tupou V. But it won't be the same, and trouble is brewing.

First though, there is the official month of mourning and the six-day funeral. The capital, with its colonial-style palace, Methodist bookshop and trendy Internet café is wrapped tight in black and purple mourning cloth. It covers fences and shop fronts and electricity posts.

The burial itself, on Sept. 19, was attended by everyone including the Japanese crown prince, the New Zealand Prime Minister and the king's good friend, Australian bookmaker Bill Waterhouse.

You can tell a lot about a country by its displays of pomp. The funeral ceremony was a uniquely quirky Tongan mix of European and Pacific customs. There was Tchaikovsky, 1,000 pallbearers, and the Royal Military Band in their white tunics.

The crown prince, wearing a pith helmet, showed up in his personal London black cab.

The king's body was accompanied to the royal tomb by the royal undertakers - the only ones allowed to touch him - who are chosen from the same village. In the olden days, one of them would have been sacrificed to accompany the king even further on his voyage to immortality.

From Sept. 20 to 29, the country's nobles presented food to the new king. Today is the royal kava ceremony, which involves drinking a rather intoxicating local brew. Then the royal family has more than five months more official mourning (and recovery).

No one knows what will happen then. The new king has a dubious reputation. He is 58, unmarried, has a love child and there have been questions about his business practices. Even under the late, largely beloved king, many "commoners" were restless. Under George Tupou V, it is far from certain that Tonga will remain a politically archaic near-absolute monarchy.

Interesting times in an interesting country.

But whatever happens in the royal palace, Tonga will still be Tonga. And men who aren't afraid to take on the royal family will still melt into a puddle when their mothers call.
Cleo Paskal is a Montreal-based freelance writer.