Dinner, with kids
Teaching kids culture through food (as told by a dad)
Jozi doesn't have a mountain or a vast expanse of undrinkable seawater, but the cosmopolitan nature of the city provides amazing experiences to teach our kids about the world...and you’ll have noodles of fun.
On a small street named Derrick, lies the well known new Chinatown. Neon lights, great restaurants and dingy-looking massage parlours line the dimly lit road at night. It’s a common food destination for the more adventurous Jozi foodie, so naturally my kids eyes widen as we drive through the Paifang (chinese archway). "Where are we dad?" I look back with glee. "Today son, you take a journey from which few men have returned. Today you become a lover of Chinese food!"
This evening was about new experiences and challenging my kids’ world views. The fast food culture has robbed us of the beautiful cultures that accompany food from around the world, so I didn’t just want them to taste the food. I wanted them to hear the language, wonder at the strange music, smell the exotic aromas as they watched the chefs at work, and taste the delightful flavours that have spread to most countries across the globe.
I sat down with them before we embarked on our cultural journey to get a sense of what they knew about China. "There are five languages in the world. No wait! Seven," says my son with certainty. “Spanish, France..., Zulu, Afrikaans, and English.” He faltered somewhere between France and Zulu, forgetting the other two languages.
Technically he is correct. Most of China is on sale in America.
I spent some time trying to explain world cultures and food but this all seemed unimaginable to their young minds. My excitement did not rub off on them. While trying to explain the incredible things they would see, my son got distracted by an insect and wandered off and the talk of food excited my daughter - so much so that she jumped off her chair and bit my leg. After hobbling to the car, and following the chaos of strapping kids into car seats, we exited our beautiful, mundane suburb, and immediately got stuck in traffic. "Ahhh, traffic!," my son said half-shouting, half-sighing. If there is one unifying factor in Jozi, it’s traffic.
An hour later we entered through the imposing gates of Cyrildene. Asleep after the long trek from the North to the South, my daughter missed the grand entrance. Despite the peace, the fact that she was having a nap in the car was perhaps not ideal: tired, grumpy three year olds make terrible dinner company. The conversation usually includes whining, complaining, interspersed with regular screaming whilst we, the parents, futilely attempt to keep them, the children, quiet so the patrons of the restaurant can enjoy their meal. This wasn’t going according to plan.
We got out the car and stepped into puddles of foul smelling, fishy water flowing down from the seafood shop up the road. My wife looked up at me with those expressions all husbands recognise: a clearly discernible “seriously?!” My son ran off somewhere and my daughter grumbled, but I would not be deterred from my mission. My kids would experience Chinese culture in Cyrildene, whether they wanted to or not.
Superficially, we chose the place with the best exterior lighting. "Oohs" and "aahs" came from behind me as the lights flashed and I entered the restaurant. Finding the best place to sit, I thought to myself that this experience may just succeed. The kids sat but were restless. As parents, we never underestimate the power of glucose to get a child to conform, so we bribed the kids with sugary fizzy drinks to keep them quiet. Blood sugar levels started to equalize and moods slowly improved. Q, our host for the evening, taught the children how to say hello in Mandarin giving my son an extra language to add to his arsenal. The experience was slowly gaining traction. Now it was time for the food.
"I am ordering the food," I announced, which was met with more wails. I needed to get this done quickly, so I put in an order of ginger crab, sizzling beef and cashew nut chicken.
To quell the moaning we asked if we could visit the kitchen. Finally the fun began. The chef and kids started taking selfies, food was tossed into sizzling pans, and strange creatures were taken out of the freezer to be thrown into hot water. Yes… the kids were finally getting into the experience. My son tried a coconut drink and my daughter visited the bathroom and came back proclaiming it was the most beautiful bathroom she has ever visited because it had a handle to help her off the loo. They also pored over the "strange" writing on boxes and cans and wanted to buy the cheap trinkets.
The food arrived. My son is obsessed with catching crabs, so I was hoping he would try it but to no avail.
Initially, they didn’t touch the food, but after some more glucose-based bribery, they tentatively tried the beef and chicken and loved it! They started guzzling and in no time nearly everything was finished. I got stuck with the crab, which although delicious, may use more energy getting it out of the shells than what you gain from the poor creature.
A hour later we were home. The kids slumped into bed, I don’t think we even brushed their teeth, even after the deep fried ice cream. Was the outing a success for them? Well, they are keen for the next one and with some refinements to the process much grumpiness may be avoided. Was it a success for us as parents? I hope so.
While some may argue that there are more "South African" places to start off with, I thought this was a good place to start as it was completely different - something they had never seen or heard before. For our next visit, I look forward to taking them somewhere truly South African.
Words and images by Ryan Sobey
Location: Fong Mei, Derrick Avenue, Cyrildene, Johannesburg, South Africa
