My Island in Africa by Salomé Visser

Author:Salomé Visser [Visser, Salomé]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789991678658
Publisher: Oryx Publishers
Published: 2016-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

19

Clair, the ‘naughty boy’ teacher and first chef

The second year things were still rough at Mazambala: the building was not yet completed, more and more guests arrived, and the staff members were new and lacked training.

I had no other choice but to jump in myself, because my people still needed to learn. I thus prepared the food myself while at the same time training the women in the kitchen. They even had to be taught how to peel vegetables, as they had little knowledge of the different kinds of vegetables or cooking methods we were used to. They were, after all traditional inhabitants. I had also turned out to be a capable bar-lady and waitress and, into the bargain, I undertook all game drives and boat trips. In addition to this I had to make all purchases in Katima, transport poles, grass, reeds and wood, and oversee the building process.

Whatever made me think that at some time or another I would relax with outstretched legs and sigh, “I have a lodge in Africa”? Things just speeded up and I realised that I needed assistance: assistance that did not require my help. I was desperate by the time I crossed paths with Claire.

“As a matter of fact, I am a caterer!” was Claire Crosby’s answer when I spoke to the group of tourists sitting around the bar. They had arrived with the Vic-Falls shuttle and I had asked if one of them was prepared to help me at the lodge for a week in exchange for a free stay.

“You stay!” I ordered without even thinking twice. My heart was beating in my throat with pure excitement. With someone to oversee the cooking in the kitchen, I would be able to continue with the myriad remaining tasks.

Claire laughed with delight when she heard this and saw my face.

I immediately realised there was no way I could force this woman, because she was actually on holiday and was touring through Africa.

“Please do not give me an answer now,” I timidly continued, all the while suppressing my excitement. She surely needed an opportunity to think about it, I realised, and very politely added, “Go and sleep on it and tell me tomorrow.”

The following morning at breakfast I saw Claire’s rucksack standing on its own next to the bar. The baggage belonging to the rest of the group was in the Shuttle. I felt like jumping with joy. She was staying.

Initially she was to stay for just a week, but Claire enjoyed it so much that the week became six months.

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