The Mongu Zagat Review

Over the years I have logged many, many hours in hospitals because of the journey we took with Kara.  Hospital food reports became a part of my life as the food served was generally not the highlight of our days. Kara and I encountered many hospitals (too many) and  I would willingly give a 'zagat' report for each experience.  It started as a 'tongue in cheek' status for most hospitals had very bad food. I had hopes that someone would actually read what I wrote and change how the food tasted for those who would come after we had gone.   For example, my weeks and months of being in Minnesota allowed me to experience wild rice in every form possible.  Not being a wild rice fan,  I was amazed at what could be concocted with wild rice.  For the record it is limitless.

Today's blog will be a Zagat report on the food establishments in Mongu.  No food critic would come to this place to give a review, it would serve no purpose :).   Zambians eat to live.  Food is hard to come by, cooking is hard and tedious by our standard.  The variety of food choices are limited. Oh yes, consistent refrigeration is also a problem.

I  am throwing this aspect of the journey in here because our first meal was a highly anticipated event. We had driven 8+ hours to get here.  We had nibbled on biscuits and drank water through out the day. We put exhaustion aside and delighted in the thought of a warm meal.  We were taken to the Oasis!

Oasis is a perspective and to us North American Westerners the term took on a very broad meaning. At one time, probably the 60's this place was where it was 'happening'.  Actually, that is probably still true but the 'Oasis' has not been upgraded since that time. I am glad it was 'dark' for lots of lights would have probably sent us all away.  Ironically, this was the best place in town and we repeated several meals here.

I will probably repeat this next experience in many blogs to come because, restrooms here in the US are often an issue for me and thus an issue I had to put aside now being in a 3rd world country again.  Most buildings had restrooms, sinks and electricity.  However, plumbing was a thing of the past, so the flushing of toilets was often a manual activity, bring your own toilet paper was a good idea and washing ones hands was done outside the restrooms. The light bulbs hung from ceilings and the atmosphere at the Oasis was unique, I use 'unique' for lack of a better adjective.

 These photos are dark, because the 'place' was dark.  Dark is good. :)  Below is where the orders were delivered and cooked. I was never comfortable getting  close to see what was behind the broken plexi glass... I just could not do it.  Ignorance is often the best place to stay when the reality of truth would not help at all.

 The fountain truly had bubbles spewing from it.  One time it was 'off'  but each time we came to eat, if it was running, so were the bubbles.  Above the mantle are three wreaths with what I would call Christmas Light Wreaths, however, it was August and for some reason it just seemed to 'work'.

 This photo is weak but it was the best I had to continue to 'feel' for the dining room.  The Christmas Light Wreath theme ran through the room, along with heads of the various animals that were native to this part of the world.

The photo below is a representation of how we washed our hands.  This particular picture came from a very nice resort spot where we had lunch one day.  Thus, the 'light, airy feel' of the room.  The wash basin for the Oasis, was dark, dark green and as a result it did not photograph well.  But ...you get the 'drift'.  :)

Each eating establishment had menus.  However, these were just a formality of what might have been or what they hoped to serve.  They also had beautiful pictures on the walls of salads, fruits, hamburgers and food that was impossible to obtain.  We would each order off of the menu.  They would take our order and then return about 15 - 20 minutes later to tell us that they did not have that particular kind of food.  Basically our choices became, Village Chicken (stewed), Chicken Kabobs,  a very thin, tough, steak from Zambeef, Mongu Rice or Chips (french fries), masa (grits :) ), a green leafy vegetable (spinach like), salad (a cole slaw) or fish with the same sides I listed above.  Each meal was served one at a time, over the course of 1 - 1/1/2 hours. The chicken was very fresh, most likely killed after ordering, I am guessing because refrigeration was poor. The other reason is, who would know in advance, if a patron was coming in that particular day.

You ate when your food arrived, eventually everyone got to eat.    We also discovered that if a restaurant did not have a 'certain' food, someone would leave and purchase it elsewhere.  Oh, one more thing.  Coke or Pepsi products were everywhere.  They served us these semi warm soft drinks in bottles immediately upon ordering but it really helped to ward off the hunger while we awaited our meals to arrive an hour plus later.

  

The fish plate is typical fare.  It's appearance is light and pretty because the restaurant where we ate this fish at was light and in a newer building.  However, the food offerings always remained the same. The white mounds to the right are masa. Both the fish and masa are eaten with your fingers.  Actually most food was eaten with your hands.

This 'Zagat' report is not a complaint as we were getting the best of the best!  Food is expensive and hard to come by here.  The standard boiled egg, fried egg, bread, baked beans, sausage breakfast and the standard fish, chicken, slaw, rice, chips or masa for lunch or dinner are for the wealthy.    Before these blogs end I will share of two more meals but for now this is the Zaggot Report of Mongu in 2012.

I will get the details of how we 'lived' out of the way early.  Then, as I blog in the future the substance and the purpose of why I actually came to Zambia will be shared.  However, every adventure is surrounded by ones living circumstances,  My new surroundings  made me so grateful for the blessings of life that had been bestowed on me by no act of my own.

An empty belly is the best cook. A proverb