I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a new café in Rotorua called Rumaki due to open at the end of July. It’s a bold concept: it will operate entirely in te reo Māori.
It’s a full-immersion environment, which might sound a bit intimidating if, like me, your reo isn’t exactly fluent. I can handle the basics and I’ve worked hard on my pronunciation, but I’m certainly no expert.
But here’s the thing, I absolutely love this idea. It’s a perfect reminder that great communication isn’t actually about having a massive vocabulary or being the smartest person in the room. It’s about intentional connection.
Stripping it back to the bones
When you step into an immersion space where you aren’t the fluent expert, something important happens. You can’t hide behind corporate jargon or flowery phrases. You’re forced to rely on the core mechanics of clarity.
I understand some might worry about making mistakes and want a “Plan B.”
For example, when I was in a windowless basement barber in Ginza, Japan, with zero language skills, total clarity was achieved purely through pointing at a picture book. While that worked for that transactional moment, the Rumaki caféenvironment like the one planned in Rotorua isn’t about avoiding the language barrier but navigating it.
You can’t just point at a picture of a coffee. You must try, and the café is designed to facilitate that effort. The staff might encourage you, offer a simple phrase, or gently correct your pronunciation. The goal is to keep you using the language, ensuring the connection is relational, not just transactional.
I’m going to make a point of visiting Rumaki after it opens next time I’m even close to Rotorua because I just love the idea and commitment to normalising te reo.
The problem with professional fluency
In the corporate world, we often do the opposite. We use corporate-speak or dry, dreary data to mask the fact that we haven’t quite nailed down our core message.
I remember assisting a CEO with a speech that was, to put it politely, as dry as my humour most days. We were talking in circles – he couldn’t see that his draft lacked personality, and I couldn’t seem to find the words to explain why.
In the end, I stopped talking. I grabbed some Post-it notes, drew simple pictures and words of his key points, and stuck them on the wall in a hierarchy that made sense to me. I challenged him to do the same. By stripping away the ‘fluent’ speech and looking at the bare bones of the structure, we finally landed on the same page. We moved from talking at each other to building something together.
The power of being consciously clunky
There’s a certain level of respect that comes with trying. I imagine when you walk into a space like Rumaki after it opens and give it a go, you’re saying: “I’m willing to be a bit uncomfortable to meet you where you are.”
That’s a massive lesson for anyone in business. You don’t need to be the subject matter expert to facilitate a great outcome. Sometimes, being the one who asks the simple questions or uses a basic visual is exactly what’s needed to bridge the gap between a complex idea and a real-world result.
Clarity over fluency
Communication is a two-way contract. In a café like Rumaki will hopefully become, the listener is working just as hard as the speaker to make sure the connection lands. This new place is designed to be for everyone, and not everyone who walks through the door will have a decent base of reo to draw on.
If we applied that same level of intentional connection to our emails, our meetings and our pitches – prioritising the shared understanding instead of looking like the smartest person in the room – we’d all be a lot better off.
We don’t need to be perfect. We just need to be clear.
The plan B rule: Back to basics
If you find yourself talking in circles – whether you’re ordering a long black in a second language or trying to align a boardroom on a strategy – don’t be afraid to break the expert fourth wall. You don’t have to appear perfect.
If all else fails, go back to the basics, like when you were first learning to read: Use a picture.
- Draw it out: A messy diagram on a whiteboard is worth a thousand ‘circling back’ emails.
- Use props: Point to the menu, the Post-it note, or the physical product.
- Simplify the syntax: If you can’t explain it in a sentence a 10-year-old would understand, you probably don’t understand the core of it yourself.
There’s no shame in being clunky if it leads to being understood. After all, the goal of communication isn’t to put on a performance – it’s to make sure the other person knows exactly what you’re trying to say.