Edziban naa! Dzi dzi (It is food, eat it!)

Edziban naa! Dzi dzi (It is food, eat it!)

by Julia Mallon (Discovery Ghana 2011)

The most invigorating part of experiencing a new culture comes when one adapts a perspective similar to that of a young child. Not in the sense of regression, but the pure wide-eyed wonderment accompanying new environmental sights, sounds, tastes, and smells.  Through this, an enhanced perspective will unveil itself as our viewpoint is often dulled in the security of our own society.  I was given the privilege of spending two month in Ghana, West Africa, living and learning the art of Ghanaian cuisine from a beautiful Adele woman whom I referred to as Mama Esther.

The Adele tribe populates the Northern Volta region of Ghana where I was located for the duration of my stay, more specifically in the District Capital of Nkwanta. For the Adele, one popular staple dish consists of fufu and light soup. From the standpoint of a westerner, the consumption of this seemingly “uncooked” dough ball and eating soup with one’s fingers completely contradicts mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup, eaten with a spoon and sourdough bread. It was an opportunity to put aside everything I knew to be true about food. Through observations, questions, and trial and error, I learned as a child would, to expand my worldview and taste pallet to include one of my new favorite foods – fufu.

The main market day in Nkwanta is on Mondays. People from all over the town and surrounding villages come to sell, buy, bargain, eat, and most importantly, to socialize. As I accompanied Mama Esther to the market, we stopped and greeted each friend we saw along the way. Ghanaian’s do not greet with a simple, “hey, how are you?” in passing as Westerners often do.  They take their time through a long dialog inquiring into all aspects of life. The time Ghanaians take to develop relationships, whether acquaintance, friend, or family member, is admirable and a reflection of their innate hospitality.

When we first reached the outdoor market in the heart of town, I noticed it is segregated into different culinary sections for the purpose of organization and ease of purchasing. To me, it seemed every stall overflowed with new exotic foods that were just flush with culinary possibilities; I could hardly contain my excitement. The produce section is a natural mosaic with an expansive spread reaching every color on the spectrum; the meat is so fresh it is cut right off the animal, a true custom cut for every customer.  We stopped at several different vendors to see the best prices and quality before purchasing yams, plantains, dried tilapia, tomato paste, onions, and various spices – while of course greeting along the way.

After visiting the market for about two hours, it was time to head home and commence cooking dinner. We began by boiling the yams and plantains until they were soft, for about 20 minutes. We then placed the boiled items into a large wooden mortar and pounded the starchy mass with a long pestle. During this process in the Southern regions of Ghana, one person typically pounds the mixture while another is seated next to the mortar, turning the mixture in between strokes. In the Northern region however, it is commonplace for two people to pound the mixture in an alternating rhythmic motion. It will be pounded until a smooth and sticky, yet firm consistency is reached. I quickly found that the soothing easy rhythm of pounding fufu was slightly deceiving; when it was my turn to pound I realized how much upper body strength was required. Since my endurance slowed after a mere few minutes, the children squealed with amusement as they were passed the pestle to continue pounding, which left me drained but thoroughly impressed with their strength.

Concurrent to preparing fufu, the light soup is also made. Water, tomato paste, dried tilapia, and spices such as salt, pepper, curry, and chili powder are slowly simmered until the fufu is fully prepared.  There are various types of soup that fufu can accompany besides fish; such as goat meat, chicken, vegetables, and groundnut (peanut) soup. When the smell of our light fish soup began to make my mouth water, I knew dinner was close to being served. 

We ladled our soup over the ball of fufu and I immediately began to eat, not realizing that I was eating the dish all wrong. As my Ghanaian friend stifled her smile, she explained that the first rule of eating fufu is there are no spoons allowed.  A she continued on, she told me to eat with my right hand and pull a piece of fufu from the side to eat first since it had been marinating in the soup longest.  Then, one does not chew as the fufu piece is put into the mouth, but swallowed whole since the flavor is in the soup and not in the yam/plantain mixture. The surprised (and probably slightly mortified) look on my face sent us both into hysterical laughter.  Which was followed with questions such as, “what if I choke to death?” and “is it safe to stick my fingers in this burning hot soup?”

I was assured that no one has ever died from choking on fufu and my fingers will get used to the hot temperature eventually.  Even though I was still a little skeptical, I decided to do what every child does when learning something new – jumped without hesitation.  The second I swallowed my first proper bite, my senses came alive.  The warm feeling in my stomach from the still hot soup, the spice lingering in the back of my throat, the feeling of soft fufu in my fingers – I could not get enough!  After discovering my new favorite dish, Mama Esther smiled ear to ear like a proud mother.  Each time I ate my plate clean, she would say, “Now I know you love me!” and pat my belly, relishing in the fact that I enjoyed her culture. After about a month of observing my host family preparing meals and then slowly assisting, I cooked a whole Ghanaian dish by myself with the oversight of my mentor. I was beaming with excitement as Mama Ester clapped in approval upon sampling my creation.

That small gesture of acceptance meant I had successfully set aside my own cultural preconceptions; and used observation, questions, and my senses to learn and value the culture of my Ghanaian friends. I used the comfort of something familiar, food, as a medium to adjust to my new and unfamiliar surroundings.  Through the highly prevalent social aspect of Ghanaian cuisine, I was able to form a strong bond of love and understanding with Mama Esther, my friends, and my host family that overcame any language barriers or cultural differences; and for that lesson alone, I am eternally grateful.

-We want to thank Julia for coming on the Discovery trip with us and for allowing us to share her story with our blog readers.  Naa Tuma Paam!