Mzungu kafunda in Texas

A few weeks ago, Sam and I drove out to a Dallas village.
I’m malnourished for a better description of the place – so bear with me when I say "village". It’s out there, almost in the middle of no where - lone buildings;- run down, unattended, dry trees, that kind of thing.

We were thinking of relocating but the scenery had my stomach twisted in locks. I begun to picture myself speaking sluggishly, donned in an apron, with a huge truck parked in our backyarrrd. I'd be ignorant of events that happened in the rest of the world; then I'd get all excited and stuff to see the city again, I would be opened mouthed and extremely shy.
Not a good picture!

We visited this one apartment where the realtor wouldn’t stop talking. She was so upbeat like that - like she had been waiting just for us. After business, she recommended we check out this place called "Babes Chicken Dinner house". Apparently it’s the hot spot for lunch in the area.
Now, either the location was discreet or the signs were not strategically located but it took us a while to find the ‘joint’.
On an old street, forsaken and quiet like that, but Babes was smokin’. There were cars parked for miles around – ok so I have exaggerated, but there were lots - an assortment of bikes, pickups, trucks, sleek machines - that kind of thing.

As soon as we stepped in, I was hit with the smell of old wood, cleaning detergent, chickenpotatosaladcorngravy of many years - generally the kafunda smell. Tables were filled and all human kind were represented; babies, toddlers, teens, adults, moms, dads, grand parents – the works.

A pretty baby-faced girl led us to our table and politely said she would be at our beck and call.

From their name, it’s clear that Chicken rules! They serve enormous chicken chunks with an assortment of side dishes.

You would officially be a sinner if you actually sat and finished a meal - even hungry men can't handle their portions. So they hang paper bags all around for doggie bag purposes.

As we waited for our order I took one look at the ceiling and decided not to look again – it had wood chunks crisscrossing all over the place, as if they decided to chill construction half way back in the 1930's.

The music was kadongo kamu Texas style - yeah! Picture Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers or cowboys with handkerchiefs around their necks.

Kind of like this:

In the middle of our meal, all the waitresses - looking all sleek in white t shirts and blue jeans made two lines in the centre aisle and begun to dance. Now, tell me, who can eat when such unique events are unravelling? I was excited by the "Boots scoot and boogie" dance, which I found out by adorning the 'African tourist' hat - come on, I meant that figuratively.

The chicken was awesome! It never tasted mmm so good!

Babe takes the cup hands down.

On our way out, Mama Gundi emerged from the kitchen.

I tell you, it's official: all mama Gundis' are the same size the world over. She offered Sam a bag of tomatoes which he politely declined. I almost denied him immediately, how do you pass up free home grown tomatoes? that is not right.

I had to get the tomatoes.