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Maree Buscke
Maree Buscke was born and raised in Gisborne and has had a career trajectory that is far from linear.
Having owned and run more than a few businesses over the years, one of the first fundamentals you learn is identifying who your customers are, what they want, and why they should choose you over everyone else. Fairly basic stuff.
So when I heard a new café venture was opening in Rotorua this week, my first thought was: “Brave opening a hospitality business in this climate.” My second was a genuine WTF after reading further.
Rumaki Café is slated to open at the end of July on Rotorua’s accommodation strip along Fenton Street. Prime location too: tourists, motel guests, workers grabbing a quick caffeine hit and a bite to eat. Sensible market, right?
Apparently not.
Rumaki has its own USP, that’s “unique selling point” in business speak, and according to its own website:
Rumaki is a cafe being established in Rotorua. While it will have great food and coffee, it’s main purpose is to normalise te reo Māori by being a total immersions space – in the front and in the back, staff, customers, everyone. From the time you walk through the doors, Māori is the only language you’ll hear. No English.
And, naturally, there’s also a handy little “donate now” button.
Let me reiterate:
From the time you walk through the doors, Māori is the only language you’ll hear. No English.
Really? This was the outcome of the customer research, was it? The people staying on Fenton Street and local workers wanting a quick coffee on a Wednesday morning were all surveyed and collectively decided: “You know what this city really needs? A café where speaking English gets you politely ushered outside.”
Cafe Kaiwhakahaere, the “boss lady” for the uninitiated, Mikara Davies told the Rotorua Daily Post:
There were no other spaces in New Zealand that would be “really firm” like Rumaki. “If you’re in there, and take a phone call and you need to speak English on that phone call, we’re going to want you to step outside. “English isn’t being spoken here.” Davies said other spaces had “paved the way” but Rumaki was taking full immersion to the “next step”.
Nothing says warm Kiwi hospitality quite like being monitored mid-flat white for linguistic compliance.
The reality is Rumaki Café isn’t really operating like a serious commercial business at all. It’s ‘playing’ café. The venture has been established by a charitable trust, which states on its own website:
A charity can run a business (and make profits) to fund its charitable purposes. During this establishment phase of the cafe, we are seeking donations and grants. Once the doors are open, Rumaki will be self-funded by the operations of the cafe. It is not a charitable trust that will need to rely on ongoing external funding.
Aww, bless.
So the plan to become “self-funded” relies on customers ordering in a language spoken fluently by roughly four per cent of New Zealanders and virtually no international tourists.
Picture it: Chuck and Nancy from Omaha, Nebraska wander in from their Fenton Street motel, nervously stumble through ‘E rua rate, kia ora,’ then sit in awkward silence because there’s absolutely no realistic chance they can converse in te reo Māori. And if they accidentally lapse into English? Out the door they go.
Now that’s a tourism strategy.
The truth is Rumaki Café’s target market was never ordinary café customers. It’s not the motel cleaners grabbing coffee before a shift, the tradies, the tourists, or the office workers nearby.
The target market is the people already sitting on the trust, their friends, and fellow true believers, people who want a space where they can speak te reo, congratulate each other on the concept, and bask in the virtuous glow of what they’ve created.
And that’s fine. Just don’t pretend it’s some revolutionary hospitality model.
This really has very little to do with Māori language revival and a lot more to do with ideological vanity projects, the sort where people convince themselves they can build businesses exclusively for people exactly like themselves, sprinkle on some PR pixie dust, then call it a roaring success while lining up keynote speeches and breakfast TV appearances.
My advice? If you’re after a coffee next time you’re passing through Rotorua, find a café that genuinely values customers, where service matters, and where your choice of language isn’t treated like a disciplinary issue.
This article was originally published by RCR Media.
