Ghana: eat shitto

[Image: thanks, Matthew] Shitto is an allegedly delicious Ghanaian sauce with a name that makes Americans laugh. When you hear someone in Ghana say it, though, the sound of the word actually does not make you think of poop.

I haven't eaten Shitto yet, but everyone in Ghana seems to love it. I'm told the best way to describe it is "sort of like a dark, red pepper salsa but with fermented fish and other stuff."

If the fermented fish part freaks you out, consider the fact that one of the flavors Americans enjoy in Thai cooking is imparted by a liquid extract of fermented fish.

There's an interesting cultural story around Shitto, too. I'm told that has been the "homesick food" of choice for Ghanaians living overseas. That's because it is preserved well and ships well, unlike most of the more delicate flavors and preparations in traditional Ghanaian cuisine.

It's hard to imagine microwaveable banku, for instance. And I have eaten that, and loved it. It's fermented mushy corn, like a sourdough tamale. Like many things, it tastes better the further away you drive from central Accra, into the rural villages in the hills. Mmmmmm. Smoky, wood fire taste, and that sweet-salty-sour corn mash, wrapped and steamed in leaves.

Ethan Zuckerman, who lived and worked in Ghana for several years, asked me to pick him up a few cans of Shitto while I'm over here -- and then discovered that a store near his northeastern US town carries it.

Ethan also turned me on to a recent episode of celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain's food show which was all about the flavors of Ghana: Link 1, Link 2.

Here's a rudimentary Wikipedia article on Ghanaian food.

Update/Correction:

Reader Lamisi says,

Just to add to your culture lesson. Shito is the Ga word for pepper. Shito is a gravy made from dried pepper,smoked dried fish,dried shrimp power,variety of species,ginger,onion,garlic,tomatoes and seasoning.

The fish is not fermented as you put it but smoked,dried and powdered. It is indeed a delicacy that most Ghanaians eat.

Shitto can be eaten with rice,yams,gari,Kenkey,spaghetti, bread etc.I brought a big jar of home-made shito to the states.

East Africa: Photoblogging aid work in Kenya

Joseph Linaschke, a friend of mine who's a photographer and software technologist (with a very large company I've been asked not to mention here) is headed to Kenya soon with camera and laptop. He's going there to document the work of IHF, an aid group that serves indigenous children living in extreme poverty. Here's an introductory post about the project.

Image: a young person from the Kenyan Pokot tribe. Courtesy IHF.

Sourcing "Africa's a continent. Not a crisis."

Regarding the unattributed title of yesterday's post, "Africa's a continent. Not a crisis" -- Ethan Zuckerman wrote it. He explains,

"That's me, I'm afraid, from Link. The paragraph it comes from, more or less..."

"Africa's not an issue. It's not a cause or a problem. It's a continent - a complicated, confusing, beautiful continent, with wealth and poverty, peace and strife, success and tragedy. When Africa becomes a cause, we tend to see only one side of the continent - a helpless, dependent, starving side that "needs our help"."

"The post was written during debate over the Bob Geldof Live8 nonsense - the event caused a huge debate in the African and Afrophile blogging community and this was my response to the tendency for the event to blur all the problems and hopes of the continent into a single word."

West Africa: vintage hotel radios with email indicators

I have encountered these handsome, clunky old analog radios in hotel rooms throughout Benin.

Each of those numbered buttons is supposed to give you a different radio station (usually only one or two kinda work, if you're lucky). The slider thing (often missing) is volume. I do not know what that input jack is for, presumably headphones.

But the best part of this is the little envelope icon, with an associated red light.

I like to imagine that this is an email indicator.

My red email status light hasn't lit up yet, but perhaps that's just because nobody in Africa wants to send email to my hotel room radio.

The devices were present in very cheap hotels in smaller towns ($10-40/night, and they often double as brothels), but I also saw them in the most expensive hotel in the country ($200-400 a night, and for all I know, there may be sex work happening there too -- but more discreetly).

I have been listening to local radio stations a lot throughout the trip, on these devices, but also in cars. Some of the people I've met here have shared insight on the role of local, indigenous-language radio in popular culture. I'm told that the talk show hosts who speak Fon, Twi, Ga, Yoruba, Hausa -- whatever the predominant local language is -- are often more influential and have more dedicated fan bases than hosts who deliver in English or French.

Someone I met from the World Bank shared information with me about the importance of radio is as a communications medium in a number of African countries -- specifically, a case study in Mali -- and the internet ties into this in an interesting way you might not expect. More on that soon.

I don't speak any West African languages well enough to grok an entire radio broadcast, but I can understand some tiny bits and pieces. Mostly, I've just been trying to absorb as much as I can of the cultures here, and listening to lots of different radio helps. Even if some of it ends up just being sound, not intelligible words, to my still-uneducated ears.

Ouidah, Benin: visit to the temple of the pythons

[ Images: a visit to the python temple in Ouidah, Benin. Sort of a tourist trap, but a beautiful one, and also a legitimate center of voudun worship, from what I'm told. But most daily religious practice of this faith takes place in far more private places, not really accessible to foreign visitors. 2007, Xeni Jardin, cc licensed. ]

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.