Growing up in the Philippines, Maria Tanjaoui was taught not to use sign language.
As the only deaf person in her family, she was discouraged from using sign language and forbidden from signing at school. Instead, she was expected to navigate an oral-based education system – one she says she struggled to follow.
“I actually signed (the number) three and they hit me in the face – so it was very not allowed,” says Tanjaoui, speaking through an American Sign Language (ASL) interpreter.
Now, on waterfront of the Victoria suburb of Esquimalt, Tanjaoui is reclaiming what was once denied, creating a sanctuary where sign language is encouraged and thrives – complemented by a menu of salt-kissed coffee creations and comforting culinary treats.
With the support of her husband Salah, who is also deaf, Tanjaoui opened the Marina Bay Cafe at 474 Head St. last May.
What began as a passion project fuelled by a love of coffee has also become a powerful platform for expressing her deaf identity.
“I’m able to show my language, my identity and be part of the community,” she said. “It gives me a great sense of pride, and it’s really hit home for me how much good communication is important.”
From the beginning, the cafe was envisioned as a space for everyone – hearing and deaf customers alike. While Tanjaoui expected some initial awkwardness around communication, the reality has been far more heartening.
Customers readily adapt, whether by writing notes, pointing to menu items, or trying their hand at sign language.
An ASL fingerspelling alphabet poster behind the counter has become an unexpected bridge. Regular customers now glance up to spell out words like “milk” or “honey,” while others have learned common signs like “tea” or “coffee.”
“Sometimes I’ll see a customer come in and maybe there’s a lineup,” says Tanjaoui. “But now that they know some of the signs, I can communicate with them from down the line to say, ‘Hey, is it a tea today?’”
The cafe has also become a welcome hub for members of Greater Victoria’s Deaf community. For many, it offers something rare: direct access to communication in their first language – a refreshing change from experiences at some other cafes, where a deaf customer might have to resort to pen and paper to place their order.
“And while waiting, the person working the till might skip ahead to the next person behind them, rather than focus their attention on their customer in the moment,” explains Tanjaoui.
At Marina Bay Cafe, patience is part of the culture. Tanjaoui encourages her hearing staff to slow down and stay present. “They need to direct their attention to the customer that’s in front of them, whether they’re writing or not,” she says.
It’s advice staff member Maddie Patterson has taken to heart. When she first began working at the cafe, Patterson only knew how to sign ‘thank you’ and a few letters of the alphabet. Communication between her and Tanjaoui was slow at first, with the pair relying on pen and paper.
Over time, Patterson’s sign language skills and confidence have grown.
“It has also been great when deaf customers have come in and I am able to take their order in ASL,” she says. “I think learning any new language is a great skill, and I think that ASL is such a cool and beautiful language that I would encourage anyone to pick up if they are able.”
Co-worker Andrea Benitez agrees, describing it as her favourite part of the job. “Because it’s a strong and expressive communication system that involves the body, gestures and presence – I enjoy it,” she said.
While accessibility and inclusion are central to the space, Tanjaoui is clear about how she wants the cafe to be recognized.
“I want people to come here because it’s a good coffee shop and we have good products, not just because we’re deaf,” she says. “We want to be known for our hospitality and being part of the community.”
And the menu delivers.
Inspired by the ocean only steps away, Tanjaoui has leaned into subtle salty flavours that nod to coastal living and east coast traditions she experienced while travelling with her husband.
Signature drinks include the Marina Bay latte, featuring sea salt, maple syrup and a hint of blue spirulina – a nutrient dense ‘superfood’ made from blue-green algae. Even the grilled cheese and house toasties get a delicate, salty finish.
“I wasn’t sure how folks might react to that flavour profile, but it has been well received,” says Tanjaoui.
Among the fans is regular customer Kate Brook, who visits the cafe weekly with her partner. But it’s not just the popular sea turtle latte that keeps her coming back.
An ASL student for almost a decade, Brook values the opportunity to put her signing skills into practice, nurturing a blossoming friendship with Tanjaoui along the way.
“I think it’s really important that hearing people meet deaf people and understand we can figure out ways to communicate with each other and support each other,” said Brook. “I’m so proud of Maria for what she’s doing, I think it’s awesome.”
Watching communication barriers soften between the Deaf and hearing communities has been an unexpected, yet welcome, outcome for Tanjaoui. Over time, relationships like the one with Brook have formed, turning everyday transactions into warm, familiar exchanges.
“It’s nice to have both of those worlds mixing,” she says. “I start to see these people on a regular basis, and they go with the flow, it’s not awkward.”
Looking ahead, Tanjaoui hopes the cafe’s community connections will continue to grow, fostering inclusion and inspiring more people to learn sign language.
She also wants Marina Bay Cafe to stand as an example for younger members of the Deaf community, demonstrating that with confidence and grit, they too can build businesses of their own.
“And that we (Deaf people) can do anything,” says Tanjaoui, her confidence undeniable.