The Lowdown on the Boma

The Boma is a eatery at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge. It's exotic and well situated and guarantees an authentic African Tribal experience.
What tribe? Well, I am not sure what tribe, but IT is tribal.
You enter through a open air gift shop with a clerk that looks more Rastafarian than Shona or Matabele. I almost expect him to say "hey mon." but he doesn't actuallt say anything as he just nods with his dreds around his head, Next we are met by a tribal band and singers welcoming us to the Boma. Mother and I watch this for awhile before climbing the steps into what appears to be a cluster of huts around a much larger one but turns out to just be one big structure that is introduced to us as the Tribal Eating area. It's hard to see if it is entirely enclosed or open to the night sky.
We are then garbed in a sari type sheet as our guide/waiter informs us that we must dress as one of the tribe in order to eat. Then a man approaches and paints something on my face, on mother he paints 3 small dark stripes (no explanation is given) For a moment, I wonder if it is like getting a drinking stamp at a nightclub.
We are led to a table and seated and then offered a starter. Impala or Fish. I select the Impala. Then a man takes out drink orders, water. I look around at the darkened interior, to my left are two old men sitting in a confined space on very low stools about 1 foot off the ground, they are surrounded by various wooden carvings and bowls. They look comfortable although I could never sit in the position they are sitting, occasionally one of them will select a carving and polish it.
Then our waiter returns with our drinks (yes- we are boring drinkers) and explains that there are various "buffets" around us each serving a different selection of food. There is a salad bar to our left behind the old men, a crepe station to the left of than, a soup bar to the left of that, next to a Rack of Lamb (the whole sheep) on an open spit, behind that is the desserts, outside is the game bar (which is the main course of meats).
I am reminded of the Golden Corral back in the states and chuckle.
As I wait for the starter, I did approaching the two old men and spent $15 on an obscene amount of carvings (some people are getting these souvenirs).
Determined to eat as "native" as possible I explore, while mother tries her luck with the salad bar which does have salads although the only recognizable one is a pasta salad (very tribal). I see that the soup bar is actually a collection of little witches cauldrons and turns out to be tomato soup....faceplam.
I go for some lamb and vegetable stirfry.
When I return my impala starter has arrived and does not look like impala but rather like an appetizer from a French restaurant although it does taste excellent.
So here's a quick run down of what I ate: (don't judge)
1. Impala appetizer (tasty)
2. stirfry (unidentifiable but good)
3. Lamb on spit (should have left it on spit)
4. Wart Hog Steak (wowzers, awesome stuff and no it tastes like warthog)
5. Chicken on a stick (it did taste like chicken)
6. Kudu steak (yummy stuff)
7. Buffalo Stew (rich and meaty)
8. some potatoes (very starchy)

The food was good. Then the singers from outside came in and began to prep their instruments by placing the drums in the fire pit.
The this guy who kind of looks like the homer simpson of the the tribal world comes to the table and starts a speel about being Pappa Jo something but the drummers begin and he goes away.
When the drummers finish, Pappa Joe somebody returns to inform me he is Pappa Joe (no I have no idea what his actual name was) and that he is, in fact, a fortune teller and if I would enter his hut, he would be very interested to tell me my fortune. I thanked him and he left.
I shook my head. There are no African fortune tellers that I know of. There are witch doctors and nothing else.... until now apparently at the Boma.

Then the drummers and dancers began. It sounded and looked good as the "hunters" and drummers paradied past. Then all these women entered and they started dancing, shouting and singing.
They were good, however, I could tell one song from the rest, and as my mother confirmed (to the best of my knowledge) no female dancers with the men.
After the first set of dancing yelling and whistle blowing, Mother and I beat feet and left (exhausted).