by Terrence Aym

Created on: August 22, 2009

The Snake Man

Since turning twelve I have seen quite a number of countries. Yet, of all the countries I've traveled, and all the people I've met, few experiences have been as intriguing, thought-provoking and, frankly as disturbing, as my chance encounter in West Africa with a man I only knew as the "snake man."

The meeting with the snake man occurred during the spring of 1999 when I spent three weeks touring Western Africa. In the course of my journeys I visited Dakar, Senegal; Abidjan, Cte d'Ivoire shortly before the military coup, and Ghana.

Ghana is what remains of what was once a great African empire known as the Ashanti. Their wealth and power influenced much of what the Europeans then called "The Dark Continent" and was rivaled only by the Zulu empire far to the south.

I traveled to Ghana to meet up with several Brits and an Aussie in a town called Berekum located in the northwest corner of the country. We had arranged via e-mail to meet with a relative of the region's chieftain. In Ghana, chiefs of regions are like governors of states. This man, Charles Amponsah, lived in the Brong Ahafo Region near the Mole National Game Park.

While in Ghana I spent time in the capital city, Accra and attended a football (soccer) game. The Ghanaian national team played against Nigeria in the Pan-African games and upset the heavily favored Nigerians. The residents of Accra partied the rest of the night.

During my visit to Accra I stayed in Osu, a suburb of the city. Street vendors and women traders carrying their wares on their heads were ubiquitous.

Restaurants were plentiful and for the most part the food was delicious. The one exception I found was fufu, a national staple that failed to whet my appetite. Fufu a concoction made from boiled cassava and unripe plantains, is beaten together. The traditional method employs vigorously pounding and beating the base substance in a large mortar with a long-handled wooden spoon. The result is a starchy blob of white goo the consistency of old wall paper paste. The closest I can come to describing its texture and flavor (or lack thereof) is Hawaiian poi made from the taro root.

My days in Osu grew short and I arranged for transport to Berekum. I had several choices. I could travel by air, but flights were erratic and unreliable. A second choice was by mini-bus called tro-tro's. The advantage with tro-tro's? They're a cheap form of transportation. The disadvantages include overcrowding, bad suspension, bad brakes

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