Todd & Emil's Wedding: Best Beach Holiday Ever

I don't really like the beach. It might not be a stretch to say that I hate the beach. Which is why when I was in Zanzibar in January, I had a pretty awful time the two days I spent on the beach. (Granted, the problem was aggravated by all of the signs saying Danger: don't walk on the beach alone, don't go in the water alone, etc. When you're a solo traveler, these signs can be a bit of a buzz kill.) So, I was really looking forward to the wedding, and loved the idea of telling people that I was going to a wedding in Tonga, I was not looking forward to Tonga.

But, even before landing in Tonga, I was already starting to have a pretty great time. Twelve other attendees of this tiny wedding (32 guests) were on my plane, two right across the aisle from me (Emil's grandmother and godmother). On the ground in Samoa, I reconnected with a college friend (Rudy Reyes) and met two more soon to be new friends. And then, after a couple more hours of flying, some pretty tasty food and wine courtesy of Air New Zealand, and a bus and boat ride, I found myself on Fafa Island.

What can I say? I'll start with the fales (the shelters where we stayed): all fales come equipped with decks, slightly enclosed bathrooms with lovely outdoor showers, and hammocks on a little stretch of private beach. For deluxe fales, the decks are twice as big, and there are two bedrooms. Ours (I was sharing with collge friends Robby Scalise and Dave Bunker, as well as Emil's youngest brother) was deluxe.

Also great: the bar/restaurant on the island (okay, the drinks were a little weak and the beer got warm way too quickly, but the food was good). It was all ours (Todd and Emil reserved the entire island from March 19 through the 23), and the staff quickly memorized all our names so that we could be billed separately, not by fale. Which meant that every server, bartender, cleaning person, and manager greeted us by name whenever we met. I don't know why I liked this so much, but I did.

So, back to why I love Fafa Island even though I hate beaches. It was just kind of perfect. An entire seriously beautiful island reserved for my friends getting married, and their friends and family. Nothing to do except hang out. No shoes. No rule against having a cocktail at 11 a.m. and (thanks to the weakness of the drinks) no risk of hangovers. And, with the exception of some slightly Rachel Getting Married-type family drama (and even that can be entertaining, as long as you're on the outside looking in), not a hitch. (I do not count the formation of a new volcano, the couple of earthquakes, or the torrential rain that found us on the boat back from a snorkeling/brunch expedition as hitches, just part of the adventure.)

I could go on and on about how great Fafa Island is, but I'd rather talk about how great the wedding was. For one thing, it was relaxed. Day of, Todd and Emil still hadn't decided what time the ceremony would take place (it ended up being shortly after 6). There was also a question about clothing, the answer to which ended up being shorts (Tonga is seriously hot). Another great thing: it was short. As in even though Todd and Emil were about 7 minutes late, the wedding was still over before 6:15. The vows were sweet and the friend officiating did a nice job, and then it was done. No mass and prayers and kneeling/sitting/standing, no seven recitations and glass breaking, just a simple ceremony. I loved it.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Todd told everyone other than "family and alumni" that they could go away, i.e., go to the reception. Of course, there was almost no one there who didn't fit into one of those categories (esp. once alumni was expanded to include choir), so pretty much everyone stayed put for a low pressure 10-15 minutes of photos. The rest of the evening: cocktails, a traditional Tongan feast (complete with three roasted suckling pigs), kava, and dancing. (I'm going to have to post some pictures, not just of the ceremony, but of the dancing, because it was crazy. The staff put on some great numbers from Tonga, Fiji and Samoa (the best ones done by the bartender and one of the cooks who did it all in drag). Plus, Robby Scalise and Karl Cluck donned native Tongan attire (complete with black grease pen creating six-packs) for a celebratory dance they choreographed themselves. Good times.

Photos to follow (I hope) very soon.