Africa is a continent, not a crisis.

[ Image: Brothers Rodolfo and Roberto who live in Ouidah, Benin. 2007, Xeni Jardin, cc licensed. ]

"Africa is a continent, not a crisis."

I read those words on an African blog before I took off from the US, and I've been thinking about them everywhere I go here. Good words for any visiting American to remember. I lost the link and attribution, like an idiot, but I'll post it later when I find it.

Before I left, I was pretty ignorant about Africa. So I asked others who had closer ties for advice, and most importantly, their favorite RSS feeds.

I've found that regional blogs really are one of the best ways to learn about the world, and that is definitely the case here. Some of the blogs I've read voraciously over the last month -- and will continue to after I return -- are Africa Unchained, Emeka Okafor's Timbuktu Chronicles, Global Voices, and the terrific but not frequently updated Afrigadget. Ethan Zuckerman was generous with insight on Ghana, and other geek friends pointed me to some really interesting things in the region.

I'm typing this post from the city of Cotonou in the West African republic of Benin. Where I'm sitting right now, at a higher-end hotel in the country's largest city, things are pretty comfy. We've been in far more modest digs up to now, and sometimes traveling under rough circumstances, so this is a big change. I can see the sea, I have a cold bottle of water, and the WiFi works.

Inside this hotel, there's an interesting scene. The crowd is a mix of be-suited diplomats, NGO types, World Bank folk, lots of Belgian military troops in camo, important-looking Nigerian men in traditional dress (royalty? Oil traders? Businessmen? Could be any combination), and important-looking dudes from the Mideast (some of whom are hanging out with the important-looking Nigerians). Oh, and some wilted-looking tourists.

A hotel employee plays piano in the hotel lobby every afternoon. His songbook is eclectic. He just now finished the theme to the Brady Bunch, after some Chopin. Now he's doing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." Yesterday I caught him playing "Jingle Bells." Everything here tends to be just slightly off.

At this hotel, you can buy hourly "wee-fee" access codes for 2,000 CFA per hour (about $4). Mostly, the connection works. But not so for life outside the hotel. Mobile phones and SMS use are everywhere. But internet access for blogging has been scarce.

Many of the places I've been along the route are not well wired -- and many others in more rural or inland areas, not wired at all. The questions of how communications technology is developing in West Africa, who's investing, who's developing, who profits, and how it impacts life -- those are are the reasons I'm here.

That scarcity of internet access is part of why I haven't been blogging for the past few weeks. But the other reason is this: back at home in the US, my life is whatever happens between blog posts. I'm always online. Even at night, with my Treo on my nightstand. Here I've been soaking up all that I can from the world and the people around me, every hour I'm here, with plans to process later.

The rhythm of blogging means that a lot my work back in the US happens in short, frequent bursts. Change that pace, and your understanding of the world changes. Here, it felt like the appropriate thing to do. Immerse, absorb, gather all the information I possibly can, take advantage of the luxury of being able to do just that. Then, process it all after a spell. Store and forward.

Benin is a small country, about half the size of Tennessee. Ghana and Togo -- the other places I've been so far -- are relatively small, too. But there is so much to experience here. I've spend three weeks on the ground so far, traveling extensively, meeting with a lot of people, visiting many different communities. I still feel overwhelmed by all there is to learn about this region, and how very little I still know or understand about Africa as a whole.

Most of what I'll post here for starters are small, close-up observations of the everyday fabric. Little details that add up to define the place. I'll share more about the bigger technology stories a bit later on.

This place is vast, diverse, and amazing, and it has already changed me.