The Next Generation


I love Eritrean children! They are so adorable. I particularly love how gregarious they all are. They don't see many white people, particularly in the villages. So when they do see us, they always want to talk to us and practice the English they learn in school.

Whether I'm walking down the streets of Asmara or through a rural village, the children always come up and say hi. They also ask, "how are you?" and "what is your name?" Unfortunately, they never understand my name when I answer them, so they continue to ask. And no matter how many times I answer, "my name is Hillary," they think I'm ignoring them. Sometimes the older ones will get upset, but most of the time it's fine. But I generally prefer when they ask how I am, because they understand both "good" and "fine."

In the villages, the children will also ask whether we are "Taliano" or Italian. Then they ask us for biscotti.



Some children, especially in the villages, like to shake hands with the white people. I say "selam" (hello in Tigrinya) when I shake their hands, and they get very excited. Of course, then some of them think I actually speak Tigrinya, and my vocabulary only consists of about 25 words, 10 of which are numbers.



I always try to photograph the kids when we visit villages on the Hash. Often times, they tell me not to. But as long as I can convince one child to pose for a picture, all I have to do is show that picture to the others in order to convince them that they all want their pictures taken. The village kids have so little exposure to technology that it's very exciting for them.

On the downside, kids in the villages always ask us for money. Even the ones who can't speak any English seem to know how to say "money, money." Of course, I never give them any, because begging is fairly rare in Eritrea, and I wouldn't want to encourage that kind of behavior.



Anna scolded me one day when I told her I wanted to steal a little kid and take him or her back to the States with me. But that was before she met our friend Genet's cousin Esphrem (sp?). When we left Genet's house, Esphrem started to cry and wanted to come with us because he didn't want Anna to leave. His mom had to hold him back. Later, Genet told us that he said "he has other dolls, but none of them are as pretty as Anna," and he was angry with his mom for holding him back when we left.



This is my little friend. I don't even know her name, but she was the daughter of either the owner or manager of the hotel we stayed at in Senafe this week. We couldn't communicate with each other, but somehow we became friends. She held my hand and walked me from one side of the hotel to the other. I wanted to entertain her, but I didn't really have anything with me. So I showed her my slideshow from my road trip from Alaska, complete with bears and everything. I really wonder what she thought of all these crazy pictures from Canada. I mean, Senafe doesn't even have telephones. (More about Senafe later.) I guess I'll never know.