A Fallen Beacon

Many years ago I had the privilege of witnessing the coming to life of a building that would be a beacon of hope for me and Janneth for years. My dad had a building gig in the area and we would walk by there a couple of days a week.

Each time we walked by, we would comment on the paintings, the building style and how much progress they had made. Each time we walked by, I would say to my dad,'one day I am going to eat at this restaurant', as soon as we learned that it would be a restaurant.

a busy street with cars and buses — Photo by Antoinette Plessis / Unsplash. Windhoek.

For my sister and I, these walks with my dad around neighbourhoods where he worked were an opportunity to see the world. To see how people lived and bring to life the dreams of having a better life. These walks and sights gave us a chance to even dare to dream, because we saw that it was possible.

Manier times we would walk past double-storey houses, multiple cars parked in the drive-ways and kids playing in the gated-houses. It was the type of thing we would only see on TV. How was it possible that people actually lived like that? Or that we lived the way we did?

a street with cars parked on the side of it — Photo by Karabo Mdluli / Unsplash

I remember walking home with my dad in the late afternoons and this new building would blend in with the dark orange sunset. Janneth and I would multiple times mention to my dad that we wanted to eat there someday, to be there someday. We would be there, that was it.

At the time there was barely enough money for a meal a day..

Photo: Private. A couple of years ago, when the Xwama dream was still alive..

Last summer I travelled to Namibia with my sister and my boyfriend. We had been planning the trip since last year and for all three of us, that's what got us through the winter. It was not until a month or two before the trip that we started looking into where we would be staying, what we would like to see and the activities we would like to do and so on.

In the spirit of bringing my boyfriend home to Namibia for the first time and sharing with him the spaces that I had been to, and dreams I had while living there, I suggested this one place.

Early on in the day we had been to the old train station in Windhoek. The station had been built around colonial times and is another reminder of German colonial times, much like in multiple other places in the country. The train station also hosts a museum in the same building, which we didn't make it to this time.

Photo: Private. An old, military type of train at the Windoek Railway Station.

As shadows turned brown and our stomachs growled, we made a collective decision to head out and eat somewhere. In the following minutes we had ordered a Yango and were on our way to this place that had been a dream for the longest time. Even after we stopped going with my dad to his work, every single time we drove past, it was still a reminder of this dream we once had.

There were no other cars in the street we pulled up into, the Yango driver dropped us off infront of the main entrance and sped off in his Toyota Yaris. We stood for a minisecond, Janneth and I almost in awe- not believing that we were actually there, that it was actually happening. Magnus taking in everything, all of it being new.

We walked through the main entrance where the words XWAMA had been mounted in bottle caps slightly above the door of the main building. This was it! It was happening!

text — Photo by Freysteinn G. Jonsson / Unsplash

It seemed awfully quiet, not just in the street, but in the restaurant itself too. We walked cautiously to the take-away area where someone was just leaving from, and approached the lady behind the counter. It felt quietly still, even with the lady there. She glared at us, as if she would've removed us immediately if she could. I don't remember if she greeted us back, but I remember the three of us just standing there, wondering what was going on.

a man standing in front of a table next to a window — Photo by ayush kumar / Unsplash. For illustration only.

A young man came out from the back door and we asked if they had a table for three people, again, maybe he was just tired or having a bad day? The whole lot? I will never know, but the energy was not reciprocated. The hosts looked disappointed, but with the professionalsim that was left of them, walked us over to the restaurant area.

I wish it was smoother than that, I imagined I would be engaging with the staff, maybe even share how it had always been a dream, but none of that. The waiter mumbled to us that we could sit whererever we wanted to.

The restaurant was its own double-storey unit, inspired by traditional oshiwambo housing. It had a grass roof, much like a hut, and the furniture was mostly wood. We noticed traditional oshiwambo patterns, and especially pottery inside the restaurant. The pottery being a proud representation of way of life of the Aawambo people, bowls in different shapes and sizes for multiple uses such as carrying water, storing and serving food amongst others.

We looked around and looked over all too excitedly at the staircase just next to us. Our waiter on the other hand did not seem to share that excitement, he forced a weak smile and nodded when we asked if we could go upstairs. The entire place was quiet, there was not a single soul in the whole restaurant. It was quite a flight of stairs, I understand that he got pissed at the idea of walking from one end of the yard to the other, serving only three people.

We were told the kitchen could not prepare vetkoekies or pap, so we got mopane worms and a whole chicken.

'I can't believe we are here, that we are sitting up here', went around a couple of times from myself and Janneth. It was crazy to be sitting here, watching the bar from across the street, all the cars and the people. It was a full circle moment. The little girls inside of us could not contain their joy.

The waiter returned with the menus and we ordered a little while later, we also requested for water, but that never arrived. Atleast the beer and the food did.

Photo: Private. Don't meet your heroes they say.

'Maybe he is having a bad day you guys'.

'Maybe they are disappointed that its just three people, seems like they are used to having large groups of tourists'.

'Maybe the head chef is not here thats why they can't make half of the stuff we ordered.'

Half of the time we sat there, trying to enjoy the view and the experience, but it was a fiasco. For Janneth and I atleast, it definitely was a don't-meet-your-heroes moment. Through and through. The second-hand embarassment from hyping a place up so much, and then being greeted coldly was disappointing. The food was even worse, really. I don't know what I was expecting, but I barely ate anything.

Photo: Private. Mopane worms, Magnus had to try them. I tried them as a kid, was not a big fan. It was interesting to try it again though.

Magnus ordered a whole chicken and really got a whole, cooked in salt and water chicken. We did finish our beers, the food? No. We paid for it in full, no tips and walked out of there. The greetings, the payment process? The staff was just cold, I almost didn't want to believe they knew how the service industry works. Or maybe service only applies to large groups of tourists?

Yango it was, then straight to Hakahana Service Station were we bought fries (literally the best), soda, some beers and a loaf of bread. We then headed back to the AirBnB and enjoyed our dinner. That was it, so simple.

Photo: Private. The real meal after Xwama.

The trip to Namibia this second time was so different, a new way of looking at life and at things, and I will get into that hopefully next time. If not, I'll still be around anyway.

That's it from me this time!