Except for Dave Matthews Band blasting throughout the place, our visit to the Tannery Market was a decent one. There is a new local market scene in Windhoek, based out of a converted tannery warehouse about 5 km north of the city. Free and easy parking, free entry, and convenient daytime hours give this market a distinct advantage over the others. We walked into the wide doors, past rows of picnic benches immediately to our left, and scents of caramelized smoked brisket to the right. Directly in front were the smaller food stalls that did not demand ventilation for grilling.
These stalls were set up in between concrete partitions where enormous oak drums once rotated thousands of pounds of animal hide soaked in a chemical solution to preserve the skin and separate the fur. The oak drums were likely hooped with massive bands of stainless steel, each with mechanical arms on either side of the barrel, working together linked pistons to rotate them all at once. The beverage stall was set up in a corner of the warehouse where likely a conveyor belt moved wet, intestine colored hides to the next station for water and flesh removal. After which, the skins would be trimmed and split, separating the top-grain from the unwanted bottom layer.
At the end of the giant room sat two bouncy castles, placed underneath a yellow-red painted H-beam that stretched the width of the warehouse, about 40 feet above. The beam still had gnarly construction type hooks hanging, with just enough rust to threaten a fall. Perhaps it was here, where thousands of pale, bleached hides would hang to dry before the next cycle of tanning and dyeing.
Beyond the main room were two more rooms, each walled off on the bottom half but with a history all their own. Birds flew in freely under the eaves, where they would game plan to retrieve discarded, forgotten pieces of food that missed many mouths and hit the concrete floor. The swallows chirped and the crows cawed. No wonder Deets thought this place was haunted. Despite the happy screams of children and the roar of jovial Afrikaans conversation, he sat in his chair silent and wide eyed, without an appetite.
Inside, the concrete bricks felt cold and unforgiving, especially with the partitions pained a moody black. Outside, the mood was much lighter with sunshine hitting the walls and faces of people with pearly red cheeks. The dust kicked up from children playing tag, and Arabian horses stuffed themselves with hay as their caretaker guzzled orange drink. On one side of the building was the vast parking lot with armed guards patrolling row after row. On the other, were the Brakwater Mountains with endless stretches of camelthorn trees, already thirsty from the rainy season about two months ago. Not a drop of moisture was in the air, a stark contrast to the hide soaked history of this building.
The next market at the Tannery will be June 30. I would like to go back on the premise of learning more about the building that once employed hundreds of staff in the creation of tanned hides. What happened to the staff? How did they manage the daily processing load? It's a process that prior to our visit, I had never given much thought. Well, a few Youtube videos put that curiosity to rest. Imagine the smells of the factory as freshly skinned hides begin the curing process, perhaps with salt to reduce the rate of decomposition; when they are dumped into a vat of milk-lime, or when soaked in sulfuric acid. No wonder Deets was wigged out by the whole place.
These stalls were set up in between concrete partitions where enormous oak drums once rotated thousands of pounds of animal hide soaked in a chemical solution to preserve the skin and separate the fur. The oak drums were likely hooped with massive bands of stainless steel, each with mechanical arms on either side of the barrel, working together linked pistons to rotate them all at once. The beverage stall was set up in a corner of the warehouse where likely a conveyor belt moved wet, intestine colored hides to the next station for water and flesh removal. After which, the skins would be trimmed and split, separating the top-grain from the unwanted bottom layer.
At the end of the giant room sat two bouncy castles, placed underneath a yellow-red painted H-beam that stretched the width of the warehouse, about 40 feet above. The beam still had gnarly construction type hooks hanging, with just enough rust to threaten a fall. Perhaps it was here, where thousands of pale, bleached hides would hang to dry before the next cycle of tanning and dyeing.
Beyond the main room were two more rooms, each walled off on the bottom half but with a history all their own. Birds flew in freely under the eaves, where they would game plan to retrieve discarded, forgotten pieces of food that missed many mouths and hit the concrete floor. The swallows chirped and the crows cawed. No wonder Deets thought this place was haunted. Despite the happy screams of children and the roar of jovial Afrikaans conversation, he sat in his chair silent and wide eyed, without an appetite.
Inside, the concrete bricks felt cold and unforgiving, especially with the partitions pained a moody black. Outside, the mood was much lighter with sunshine hitting the walls and faces of people with pearly red cheeks. The dust kicked up from children playing tag, and Arabian horses stuffed themselves with hay as their caretaker guzzled orange drink. On one side of the building was the vast parking lot with armed guards patrolling row after row. On the other, were the Brakwater Mountains with endless stretches of camelthorn trees, already thirsty from the rainy season about two months ago. Not a drop of moisture was in the air, a stark contrast to the hide soaked history of this building.
The next market at the Tannery will be June 30. I would like to go back on the premise of learning more about the building that once employed hundreds of staff in the creation of tanned hides. What happened to the staff? How did they manage the daily processing load? It's a process that prior to our visit, I had never given much thought. Well, a few Youtube videos put that curiosity to rest. Imagine the smells of the factory as freshly skinned hides begin the curing process, perhaps with salt to reduce the rate of decomposition; when they are dumped into a vat of milk-lime, or when soaked in sulfuric acid. No wonder Deets was wigged out by the whole place.
 |
| The hip thing to do in Windhoek: go to markets |
 |
| Stairway to god-knows-where. Photo: https://www.instagram.com/tannerywhk/ |
 |
| The great yellow-red H beam. |
 |
| Drying hides: ghostly skins from animals once. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbj1QicTdpI |
 |
| Chemical treatments with white partitions supporting the barrels. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbj1QicTdpI |
 |
| Partitions now separating food stalls. Windhoek being cute and whimsical. https://www.instagram.com/tannerywhk/ |
I agree with Deets. Wee bit creepy.
ReplyDelete