Off we go!

I have limited excess to the Internet, so I’ve been writing on word and posting in clumps when I get to a web café…enjoy!

So today began with a jolt! My sister woke me at 6:00am so that I could come with her to METRO TV, a local news station. She appeared with an opponent in the upcoming election. As always it was spirited debate! I have gotten an in depth look at the Ghanaian political landscape. In the coastal town of Axim, where my sister is running for MP (Member of Parliament), one of her opponents is running a smear campaign against her. The tactics politicians use here is just like those used in the states. Rather than commercials, there is strong use of the newspaper and radio. It is interesting to see how information is transmitted in this developing country. The newspaper headlines are VERY sensationalist and fickle.
Weather
The weather between December and May is considered the dry season ie hot!

Religion
Everywhere I turn there are signs that Christianity has gripped its hands all over Africa and its people. There is even a strong mormon presence here? I personally believe in spirituality and think religion, especially in areas where there poverty and low education levels, is used to take control.

Food
When people travel to Africa for history and for scenery but never the food. I don't get it.I have found that Africa, with thousands of languages and cultures, each with its own cuisine, always rewards an adventurous eater.

Maybe the problem most travelers have is that finding good African food isn't always easy. Tourists are usually advised to stick to the hotel buffet. While a few countries, especially French-speaking ones like Ivory Coast and Togo, have developed an indigenous take on restaurant culture, many Africans prefer to eat at home. Barring that, they'd rather grab a bite on the fly. Even as a correspondent based in Africa, I am not always lucky enough to snag an invitation to eat at someone's house, so my main source of authentic African food is on the street.

And few countries reward the sidewalk chowhound as well as Ghana. From rough-hewn sheds, women sell sharp wedges of starchy yam, perfectly fried in splendorously saturated palm oil and slathered with a fiery sauce of pulverized Scotch bonnet peppers and garlic. From stainless steel bowls perched atop their heads, women dish out hearty bowls of perfectly spiced stew and rice, endlessly customizable with a plethora of condiments, from crunchy vegetables to a hard-boiled egg.

I sought out some of my old favorites and discovered some new ones. In both cases, to find good street food you have to go where people eat on the run: bus stations, markets, busy intersections, construction sites.

"You have to look where people stop and rest a minute," said Eddie Nelson, a Ghanaian businessman and fellow street food devotee I met over a fistful of kelewele, a delicious snack of cubes of ripe plantain tossed in hot pepper, ginger and other spices, then fried until the sugar in the plantain caramelizes along the squared edges.

We were standing on a busy street just after sunset in Osu, a shopping district in Accra, next to Rosemary Nutsungah's kelewele shack. Ms. Nutsungah explained the secret to perfect kelewele.

"You got to have hot oil, that is No. 1," she said. "Then the plantain, it can't be too soft. It will drink the oil and become too oily. Also, you have to have very fresh ginger so it be sweet."

Mr. Nelson nodded approvingly, tossing cubes of plantain into his mouth from the crumpled newspaper in his hand. He then explained to me the finer points of selecting the right street food vendor.

"You have to look at the whole person," he said. "First, is her hair braided in neat rows, or does it go every which way? If it is neat, you are safe."

I put this wisdom to the test the next day on a trip to Kwame Nkrumah Circle, a roundabout at the heart of the city where thousands of minibuses converge, bringing commuters from across the sprawling metropolis.

Even in the chaos of honking horns and swirls of dust, it was evident that the street food business has a clear hierarchy and well-defined gender roles. At the top are the kebab sellers, always male, who sell a relatively high-end product because it contains meat, a prized addition to any meal. Ghanaian kebabs are a particular treat, called kyinkyinga. They are made of small, tender chunks of beef dusted with a spicy rub of peanut flour and hot pepper, dabbed with oil and then grilled over charcoal

Dairy products have similar status — cool bags of frozen yogurt and ice cream are sold exclusively by men.

Women sell any food that requires extensive preparation, usually from a container perched atop their heads. Fried yams, cassava and sweet potato all require slaving over a hot stove and skillful timing to get just right. Selling rice and stew from a basin perched on your cranium means rising early to make the food, carefully wrapping it in layers of plastic bags as a kind of homemade insulation, then carrying it all the way to the bus station and serving it up in banana leaves to hungry commuters.

I tried to follow Mr. Nelson's rules, but after a few minutes I was not looking at hair, because I was distracted by the endless array of food. There were fritters made of plantain just this side of too ripe, mushed up with some hot pepper and then fried. There were balls of fried dough spiced with a bit of nutmeg, crunchy on the outside and tender on the inside. I had to stop after the fried wedges of cassava served with a pepper sauce called shito, made of tiny shrimp ground with hot pepper and oil.

Then there are some sidewalk meals you can't buy at any price. I found one such feast one day in Elmina, a coastal city west of Accra, where the oldest slave fort in the country bristles on a peninsula jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean, the portal through which countless Africans were shipped off as chattel to the New World.

Wandering the old fish market as the sun set, I stumbled upon Aba Theresa Mensah, a fish seller who was winding down a long day of hawking octopus, snapper and prawns by making a little dinner for herself and the other market women.

The customary "you are invited," was uttered as I eyed her glowing charcoal stove, and I eagerly plopped down on a simple wooden stool. I spoke only English and she mostly Fante, but we managed. On a stone she ground plum tomatoes and Scotch bonnet peppers, which she stirred into bubbling pot of blood-red palm oil. In went some bits of seafood culled from the catch of the day — a bit of octopus, a couple of plump red snapper fillets, a handful of prawns and, finally, the secret ingredient — a scoop of saltwater from the Atlantic.

"We go chop now," she said with some satisfaction, using the pidgin word for eat. She motioned to a young girl carrying kenkey, fermented gobs of cornmeal wrapped in leaves, a sort of African take on polenta that is the staple starch in this part of Ghana, and purchased a few balls.

She sliced the kenkey onto a plate, then ladled on the juicy bits of fish and octopus swimming in a fragrant bath of spicy stew.

"Chop," she commanded. I dug in, the kenkey sticking to my fingers and the sharp heat of the peppers warming my skin. It is called Fanti Fanti, and it is as simple and delicious a fisherman's stew as anything the Mediterranean has produced.

"It be sweet?" Ms. Mensah asked.

"Yes," I replied. "It be sweet."

Thursday December 13, 2007
Accra Press Tour

Friday December 14, 2007
Accra Press Tour
Drive to Axim-past Cape Coast
We began our journey to Axim in the middle of rush hour traffic, which seems to be all day! The roadways are always very congested


Saturday December 15, 2007
My sister was up at 5:00am preparing for a campaign rally in her district. Her constitutes began to file in droves. I was really excited to meet the people of Axim after all this is where my father and half-siblings grew up. I notice the cultural similarities in the Caribbean and US; it all comes off the coast of West Africa. The Rastafarian culture is all over the coast. The sounds of reggae fill the street all day here!

Sunday December 16, 2007
The day started out really chill. Something I miss in the states is the constant sense of community that is present here. Catherine went to church this morning with one of her campaign managers, while Seth and I stayed with the kids. They played football (soccer) with bottle tops, screaming “GOAL” at the top of their lungs! After she returned we headed to Ankroba Beach; by one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. It is frequently home to authors and artist in search of inspiration. There is one hotel that serves beach patrons. Although there is need for economic development in the area, I hope this beach remains sparsely populated. The fishing boats come to the beach and locals come to buy them to either sell or eat.
I had the best fish of my life today! We bought some from the fisherman and the restaurant fried them. It was served with rice, salad, lime, and STAR lager (beer). After we stuffed ourselves I took my nephews for a walk down the beach. We then drove the 2km home. On the way I spotted KANTIOUS (local Rasta/radio jockey). He gave me a CD of his music and riddims.

Monday December 17, 2007
We left for Accra at 4:00am this morning. It was about a 3-hour drive minus traffic. I was exhausted from the beach yesterday.