Return to Oz

When I was living in Eritrea, I had a healthy understanding of the country. There were things that I liked and things that I definitely didn't. I made a lot of great friends, but there were also people who drove me crazy. I had certain advantages, but I also faced a number of challenges. I had a lot of fun, but I also got bored of doing the same things every week. I appreciated the beauty of the country, but I also knew what lied beneath.

But since arriving in Sudan, Eritrea has taken on mythical proportions in my imagination. Asmara has come to symbolize everything that Khartoum is not, my own hill-top Shangri-La.

So when I traveled back to Asmara during the first week of March 2008, I expected my illusions to be shattered and the truth about Eritrea to reveal itself again...for Eritrea to become a normal place again and not a figment of my imagination. Bizarrely, that did not happen. Rather, my week in Asmara further cemented the contrast between Khartoum and Asmara.

I left Khartoum on March 1. And interestingly, that day, it was like the city decided that now that it was March, it was time to be hot. I can't explain why, but the first day of March must have been hotter than the last day of February by at least 5 degrees centigrade. But I arrived in Eritrea at the perfect time. The winter had ended and the weather was perfect. It was sunny without being hot. It was dry without being dusty. When I walked down the street, children said hi to me, asked me how I was, and came up and shook my hand. In contrast, in Khartoum, when I walk down the street, men yell "khawaja" (white foreigner) at me, even out of car windows.

Asmara seemed prettier than ever. Flowers were abloom throughout the city. I had never noticed how clean the streets of Asmara are. But after living in Khartoum, where the sidewalks and roadsides are littered with garbage, the difference was striking. Also, whereas Khartoum is plagued with traffic, the crazy drivers I had once criticized in Asmara seemed liked the best drivers in the world. And I finally came to appreciate how slowly people drive in Asmara.

And then, of course, there are the easy things. First, I was reminded how much I really like Eritreans. And I didn't have to worry about being dressed inappropriately. I could even go out to bars with my friends and order wine at dinner!! For one week, I was at peace.

I got to see a number of friends from the old days: Anna, Genet, Soe, Rahel, Pete, Alex, Filmon, etc. I visited some of my favorite places: Blue Nile (officially the Blue Bird) restaurant, the Lion Hotel, Sweet Asmara Cafe, the market in downtown Asmara, the mes place, etc. And I even got to see Lea's new house. This one-of-a-kind house was under construction the entire time I was in Asmara, but at the time I left, I assumed it would never be finished. But it is!! And it's even furnished. And Lea has the most amazing garden. I knew she was a talented gardener. The garden at her old house in Asmara was beautiful. But the new garden is in a whole different league. And you can see most of Asmara from the main floor of the house.



But all good things have to come to an end. On Friday March 7, I went to a party at Alex the Greek's house. It was the perfect way to end the week, as Alex has always thrown some of the best parties in Asmara. Approximately half of the attendees were Eritrean, and the other half were expats. And everyone was very cool. I got to catch up with a lot of people I hadn't seen in almost a year. I drank a lot of wine. And danced. Oh how we danced... As friends and acquaintances jumped up and down in unison to "the Romanian song" (Maria he Maria hu Hello Salute), I wondered how I could possibly return to Khartoum in a matter of hours.

But all good things have to come to an end. And at 6 am, without having slept, I was at the Asmara airport. And I couldn't help but think about that saying, "you can't go home again." Because as much fun as I had had, this was not my home anymore. Many of my friends, both Eritrean and international, are gone. Those who remain have moved on. Their lives are their own. I tried quickly to fit back into that world, but it didn't quite work. Although I think I may still have more friends in Asmara than some of the people who joined my office after I left, it isn't my life anymore. And I have to move on.