Tutwa Tourism

On the outskirts of Katima there is a centre called Tutwa Tourism.  It had a small shop that sells ‘African shit’ as it has become affectionately know by us, a small café and also an office where you can book boat rides, camping trips, game drives etc.  It is owned and run by Katy Sharp who also owns the Fish Farm with Dick Sharp where Jem and Glenn rented a house.  Jemma and Amelia (who also lives on the Fish Farm) offered to take over the running of the café a while before I arrived in Katima.  Apparently it had been doing very badly and was hardly even making enough money to pay the staff, let alone make a profit.  I think Jemma and Amelia saw it more of an opportunity to fill up some time with something productive, as Katima doesn’t exactly have a lot to do.  Jemma was counting down the days until they moved to Cape Town and Amelia was temporarily stuck on her ride to Tanzania; her and her brother were riding for months across the southern African countries to raise money for charity.  Taking over the café seemed like a logical thing to do, it was practically volunteering as they made very little money from it but it filled some time.

The café is actually quite a nice little place with tables in the open air and the kitchen out the back.  There is a canopy over the top which provides some shade / shelter when the rainy season starts, and a constant supply of cold drinks.  There are blackboards with the choice of food and drink, large African wall hangings and quirky ashtrays on each table.  It seemed like a logical place to spend a lot of my time.  In the first couple of weeks of me being in Katima I would go with Jemma and Mum to Tutwa, where we would chill out, drink iced lattes and read our books.  The café was very quiet a lot of the time so Jemma and Amelia would join us, but when customers came in they would get to work.  The first couple of weeks I was there the heat was unbearable; I kept getting the feeling that I should be doing something more active, but if you even step out of the shade within a few minutes you have sweat dripping off your face and a gruesome headache.  So I decided to enjoy the forced relaxation.  I certainly got through a lot of books.

Katima is a funny old place.  Being in the back of beyond it seems about 10 years behind everyone else.  Like I’ve mentioned before, the meat in the supermarkets is already out of date, the service is nonexistent and the locals tend to avoid you.  There were a few of the locals working at Tutwa café, with Jemma and Amelia managing them.  When they had first started the kitchen had been so grimy and disgusting that they spent the first few days cleaning.  They revamped the menus, started baking cakes and tried to get some business in.  They had already done all this when I arrived so I only experienced the better side of it, but even then it could be a bit hit and miss sometimes.  With the completely different values that the locals held, Jemma and Amelia often found it a struggle to keep the food at a certain standard.  If they turned their backs for one minute all sorts of things would be sent out the kitchen.  On more than one occasion we received undercooked chips, dripping in oil and barely edible.  The cook didn’t seem to care at all.  No matter how many times she was told how long to cook them she always sent them out the same.  I once asked for a chicken and salad wrap, and received a look as if I was mad.  The wrap appeared with just chicken and a slice of tomato on the plate.  The next time when I took my time explaining that I wanted the salad in the wrap, the cook had to confirm with Amelia exactly what I meant; apparently salad inside a wrap is a complete phenomenon.  I think part of the problem is that they see the type of food we eat and think we’re mad.  The main diet in Katima is pap, which is sort of a thick porridge that tastes a bit like rice or mashed potato.  It’s usually served with relish, which is a kind of sauce.  It is almost like eating chilli con carne only without the spice or mince if that makes sense.  I guess if they don’t tend to eat what they were serving, then it wouldn’t matter to them how it left the kitchen.  There is a contradiction to my theory though; the supermarkets sold a variety of food other than the ingredients for pap, so someone must be eating it.  Maybe they just truly don’t care, who knows.

It does seem like an odd concept to me as the ladies that worked at the café were paid a salary for being there, but they didn’t seem to realise that if there were no returning customers, there would be no money and therefore no job.  When customers did walk in most of the time they would just ignore them, until Jemma or Amelia told them to go and serve.  When they did they weren’t exactly polite and generally had a disgruntled look.  I don’t know whether part of the problem was the language barrier, as sometimes they didn’t seem to understand me, but also a lot of the time it seemed that they understood fully what I was saying and just chose to ignore me.  If you think the service is bad in England, you want to try living in Katima for a bit.  At least you generally get what you order and it is usually edible in England, even if the reception is usually rude.  Having said that, I very much enjoyed my days spent chilling at Tutwa.  Most of the time Jemma or Amelia made my food so it was lovely, plus I had a constant supply of cold drinks.  I spent a lot of time reading, going on the internet and once Mum had gone back home, Jemma and I started Afrikaans lessons.  Jemma is already very good at the language so she spent the time to try to teach me.

Afrikaans is a phonic language so the letters (vowels especially) sound completely different to English.  Of all the languages that I know a little of, Afrikaans has definitely been the hardest one to pick up.  Some of the words are very similar to German, whereas others are completely different.  It is very much an open mouthed language so it took quite a while for me to relax and just make the noises without trying so hard.  After a couple of weeks of lesson we were both ill so stopped them and never started again, so I know bits and pieces of the language, but am certainly not fluent.

A lot of the time I would be sat in the café on my own which was brilliant.  I’d come in for breakfast and stay there all day with Jemma until she finished at 5pm.  It really gave me the time to relax and unwind as well as the opportunity to rethink my life plan.  It was really nice to spend some time with Jemma and learn a bit of another language too.  I wish everyone could have the opportunity to spend 2 months relaxing in the blistering sunshine, it does wonders for your state of mind!