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.

Hilarious!!

I know I'm supposed to be on to Sudan now, but Eritrea continues to fascinate me. Check out this article by my friend Jack in Asmara. I know most of you aren't really going to understand why I find this so funny, but it's worth reading, even if you don't get the humor.

http://www.reuters.com/article/reutersEdge/idUSL1548256820070916?pageNumber=1

Also, for some reason I love that the photo for this is just a picture of Jack. I also suspect that this was taken from the other foreign journalist's apartment.

Scenes from the Red Sea

Some friends in Asmara have teased me for focusing on snorkeling in my previous post about our trip to the Dahlak Islands rather than telling the story that automatically comes to mind when any of us says "The Islands." And I'm sorry to report, I have no intention of telling that story today. There are certain things about my life that I would prefer not to share with the world.

Instead, I thought I'd share some underwater photos from our stay on the island of Dissei, which I just got developed (they were taken on a disposable underwater camera).



According to my guidebook, Dissei is better for diving than snorkeling. Nevertheless, I felt like I had plenty to see as a snorkeler. Whether I was able to catch a fraction of that beauty in photos is open to debate. Personally, I don't think these pictures do the reef justice, but they are a good reminder.



In any case, as I understand it, the many years of warfare in Eritrea were actually a blessing in disguise for the Eritrean coastline. Where other habitats in the Red Sea have been severely decimated, the Eritrean coast and islands remain largely untouched. Hopefully, it can stay that way, but you never know. According to this book I read before heading to Eritrea, people living in the highlands historically have not eaten fish and had no idea how to cook and eat it. But after independence, the government promoted fish eating in the interior of the country because there was such an abundance in the sea. When I arrived in Eritrea, fish was on the menu of virtually every restaurant in Asmara. So, I'm not sure what that will mean in the long run for the Red Sea's fish population.

Since I've been back in the States, a lot of people have been asking me about FGM in Eritrea. And I have tried to share what I know about the rate of FGM in Eritrea, the new law banning FGM, and the national campaign to educate Eritreans about the dangers of FGM. But I really don't know much. So, I thought I would post this link to my friend Jack's article on the subject. Jack is a reporter for Reuters and one of only two foreign journalists in Eritrea.

A Tribute to Asmara Beer


On a whim, I decided to look Asmara beer up in my Complete Guide to Beer. And it's there!! According to the book by Brian Glover, "The golden Asmara Lager, which is matured for more than four weeks, has a firm, malty flavour and excellent body. It is the only beer produced by the Asmara brewery in Eritrea."

And someone will have to tell me it this is right, but it further states that, "An Italian, Luigi Melotti, originally set up this company in Asmara, Eritrea, in 1939 to produce pure alcohol and spirits. It began to produce lager three years later. In 1984, it changed its name from Melotti to Asmara."

But the punchline is that none of the Ethiopian beers made the cut. None of them are mentioned in what is self-described as "An expert and COMPREHENSIVE guide to the beers of the world."

The Stela of Metara


I know it's been awhile. I'm now back in the US after a very busy month in the Hague and Egypt. I'll report more on those adventures soon, but in the meantime, I'm finally going to tell you about the Stela of Metara. I've been promising this report for a long time, so here goes:

I would like to take you back to Eritrea and to the third week of March 2007, when I went to Senafe for work. While I was there, Simon and I had the opportunity to visit Metara, and Ancient Axumite city. I don't know much about Metara or the Axumites, so I am going to refer to the Lonely Planet guide to Ethiopia and Eritrea for my explanation.

"Around the 1st century AD (or even earlier), the powerful kingdom of Aksum began to develop. Situated in Tigray, in the north of modern Ethiopia ... Aksum lay just 170km from the Red Sea. Much foreign trade--on which Aksum's prosperity depended--was seaborne and came to be handled by the ancient port of Adulis in Eritrea."

In addition to Adulis, at least two other important Aksumite cities were located in present-day Eritrea. These are Metara and Qohaito.

"Metara is important [as an Aksumite] site for three main reasons: for its age--some of it, from about the 5th century BC, actually predates Aksum; for its huge size--it spreads over at least 20 hectares, making it the largest Aksumite site after Aksum itself and Aksum's port, Adulis; and for its unusual character--it is the only place in the Aksumite civilisation where a large bourgeois community is known to have thrived."



"One of Metera's most important objects is its enigmatic stele. Unique in Eritrea, the stele is known for its pagan, pre-Christian symbol of the sun over the crescent moon, engraved on the top of the eastern face. Like the famous Aksum stelae, it faces eastward.

"Standing 2.5m tall, the stele has an inscription near the middle in Ge'ez. An unknown king dedicates the stele to his ancestors who had subjugated the 'the mighty people of Awanjalon, Tsebelan.'"

The Stela was vandalized by Ethiopian soldiers during the 1998 to 2000 border war. Much of the base of the Stela was destroyed. But thanks to a donation from UNESCO, the Stela has been repaired. Nevertheless, the existing Stela is only a fraction of its former self. In fact, the base of the current Stela is entirely new.



In addition to the Stela, there are ruins of former Axumite buildings at Metara. Down here are the old entrances to three tunnels. According to the little girl who led us around, the tunnel my right led to Quohaito, the tunnel I'm leaning against led to Adulis, and the tunnel to my left led to Axum.

Ciao Asmara!


Hello everyone! I hope all is well outside my little world. I have been extremely busy the last couple weeks, but I apologize for not to update this blog more frequently. It seems like something always gets in the way.

In any case, I am no longer in Eritrea, and at some point in the next couple of weeks, I will get around to discussing what I've been doing since my departure. Oh, and of course, I still owe you all a post about the Stela. But in the meantime, I thought I would share a couple of thoughts and some pictures in order to bid farewell to Asmara and my life in Eritrea. I think it's going to be a difficult transition. The outside world already seems extremely intimidating. I almost went into sensory overload on Sunday afternoon when I went shopping in The Hague with Anna and Julie, a paralegal for our office who works from the States. But life goes on, and I will certainly adjust to the outside world. Or maybe I'll decide to return to Asmara. We shall see.

I thought that this post would be focused on my going away party that I had at the Albergo Italia (shown below), one of the nicer hotels in Asmara. The party was such a disaster that I have no desire to rehash it. But just so you all can imagine something far worse than reality, I'll just say that the hotel called the police and tried to kick all of us out.



In general, my last couple of weeks in Asmara were bitter sweet. It's hard to explain exactly why, but somehow in those last two weeks, I faced an overload of all the good and all the bad things about living in Eritrea. And so when I left, it was very hard. At the same time, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I know I'm being really cryptic. Actually, if you've paid much attention to this blog, you might have realized that I always am. And I thought I would get over that once I was out of the country, but I so far I haven't.



In any case, I think the main thing I want to do at this point is share some photos of Asmara so that maybe you can empathize with the nostalgia I am already feeling. And those of you who are reading this from Eritrea, I want you to know that I will miss all of the people I met there, and hopefully I will return one day.

Welcome to Massawa: Drive with Care, Life is Dear

These are the words that welcome weary travelers to Massawa after a harrowing drive down the escarpment from Asmara. I have no doubt that the greatest danger I've faced since arriving in Eritrea is riding without a seatbelt in a car or bus on one of Eritrea many mountain roads. As a rule, the roads out of Asmara are narrow and littered with sharp curves and steep drop-offs. But despite these obvious dangers, drivers here don't seem to think twice about taking turns at 80 kph (50 mph) or passing on a blind curve. Yet this past weekend, I somehow made it safely down and back up the escarpment road in an Eritrean minibus.

I know that I said a while back that I was going to write three posts about my last trip to Senafe, but before I tell you about the Stela of Metara, I need to do some research. So in the meantime, I thought I'd share a little about my brief weekend trip to Massawa.

Last weekend, Anna, Genet, James, and I took the bus to Massawa for a last weekend getaway before the hearing and my departure. For a foreigner, a weekend in Massawa is about as expensive as dinner and a movie in the states. The bus costs 30 nakfa ($2) each way, and the hotel we stayed in on the beach cost 132 nakfa (about $8) for the night. Of course even the Red Sea Hotel, the nicest place in Massawa, only costs betweeen $28 and $35 a night. We also went back to the Sallam restaurant for dinner, which cost something like 80 nakfa ($5). I think, percentage wise, we spent more money on Coke and alcohol than anything else.

The weekend was fairly relaxing after we got out of Asmara. I was stressed in the morning on Saturday because we left late, and it took us awhile to find a bus with enough empty seats for all four of us. But it worked out, and we were on the beach in Massawa before 3 p.m. We decided that being on the beach in late March meant that, although we're all out of school, we could pretend to be on spring break and start drinking then and there. It wasn't long before we all had a pretty good buzz going. And the result was Genet the mermaid ... well, that and a penis palace, but anyway ...



After spending the day swimming, we decided to check into the hotel there on Gergusom Beach so that we could do more swimming at night. I know what you're thinking: after the problems we had swimming at night on the islands, we should have been at least somewhat hesistant, right? Well, Gergusom beach is very sandy, and you can walk out quite a ways without encountering a rock, let alone a sea urchin.

But I digress. Anyway, we went into town for dinner and drinks in the evening. We returned to the Sallam Restaurant, the place where I had the giant fish head last time. Here's the kitchen at the Sallam. As I might have mentioned last time, they cook the fish by shoving into the fire with a stick. It's pretty weird to watch, but apparently that is "the way" people cook fish in Yemen.



From there, we headed to a bar by the water. On the way there, we some how decided that it would be a good idea to give each other piggy back rides. Some how I got out of giving rides, but I did get one from Genet. Nevertheless, by far the best picture is this one of Anna carrying James.



Oh, and have I ever mentioned how small Eritrea is? It doesn't seem to matter where you go in this country; you'll always run into someone you know or someone who knows someone you know. Anyway, during the course of our night in Massawa, we ran into this Italian guy we know who apparently lives in Massawa but is often in Asmara, and this Eritrean- American guy we saw on the beach earlier in the day and who turned out to be the ex-boyfriend of one of our friends. So, we decided to invite them back to Gergusum with us for some gin and tonic and night swimming.

Linguistic Barriers

It's hard to believe, but I only have a little over a week left in my Eritrean adventure. On Thursday April 13, I take off to the Hague for our hearing before the Commission. But before I go, I would like to share some more stories from my last few weeks in this beautiful country.

I think I'll begin by taking you back to Senafe and to a frustrating situation that I found myself in while I was there. One of the most difficult things for me about being here is that I don't speak the language. Although I have lived abroad before, this is the first time I have done so without speaking the native language of the country I'm in. Sure, I knew very little Swedish when I arrived in Sweden, but I picked it up pretty quickly because I was taking two Swedish classes and attending regular high school classes that were taught in Swedish every single day. But here, I have only picked up a very few words of Tigrinya, most of which are numbers or food names. And, I tend to be pretty embarassed to use the little bit I know.



Anyway, while I was in Senafe, I took a walk to take some photos of the landscape. As I was contemplating heading back to the hotel because it was close to the time when we needed to get back to work, a couple of women who were standing in their front yard, waved me over. I walked over and joined them, and began a very awkward conversation involving my few words of Tigrinya and their few words of English. Eventually, one of them asked me to come in and have tea. Although I didn't have much time, I thought I could afford a few minutes for tea, and I am always interested to go inside houses in the villages and small towns here because they are so much different than what I'm used to.



So, I followed them inside and sat down. One of the women began to, I thought, make tea. In the meantime, I sat inside the main room of the house, which was both a bedroom with two beds and a sitting room with a small couch and a few chairs. Two of the women joined me in there, but they seemed to be the two who spoke the least English. However, there were two little kids there, and I asked if I could take a picture of the baby (holding up the camera and demonstrating of course). They said yes, so I took the picture and showed it to them. Then they got so excited that the three younger women wanted to have their pictures taken. I was really excited about that because women here never want their pictures taken. Mostly its just the kids. Sometimes the men. But the women always say no.



Anyway, while all of this was going on, one of the women was setting up a little table in the sitting room, and as she started pulling things out and setting things up, I realized that she was starting to make coffee, not tea. Oh shit!! I definitely didn't have time foor that, considering that when the women initially invited me in, I only had 15 minutes to get back to the hotel for work. I tried to explain that I didn't have time for coffee, but of couse they didn't understand. So, I ended up just getting up and heading to the door. They again said to "drink tea" and then clarified "bun" (coffee). I tried again to explain, but they didn't understand. So, I left the house and the yard telling they a combination of "sorry" in English and "thank you" in Tigrinya. I tried to act courteous, even though I knew I was being rude to leave, especially considering she had already heated the charcoal for the coffee. But I didn't know what else to do.

Anyway, not being able to communicate in that situation really bothered me, and I missed the days when I lived in a foreign country where I spoke the local language.

The UNMEE Line


For my next three posts, I've decided to write about things that happened during my most recent trip to Senafe (March 19-22). And I'm going to begin by discussing my visit to Serha, a village located adjacent to the UNMEE line separating Eritrea from Ethiopia.

The UNMEE line is the de facto boundary between Eritrea and Ethiopia. The UNMEE line differs substantially from the de jure border as delimited by the Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission in its 2002 decision. That is, the UNMEE line tends to favor Ethiopia while the Boundary Commission decisions gives more territory to Eritrea. The UNMEE line was not designed to be permanent. However, because the border has not yet been demarcated on the ground, it remains the de facto boundary. I don't want to get much into politics here, but if your interested, I would recommend doing a google news search on the Eritrea/Ethiopia border to learn the most recent news about the boundary.

Anyway, north of the UNMEE line is the Temporary Security Zone (TSZ), a demilitarized zone located entirely within Eritrea. Don't ask me why the TSZ doesn't straddle the UNMEE line. I originally thought it did, but apparently not. We do a lot of our work in towns inside the TSZ. Therefore, at one point Amanda said our office should write a travel guide to the TSZ, since we know all about the hotels and restaurants down there. Then she expanded the idea and suggested that we write a travel guide to demilitarized zones of the world. Wouldn't that be awesome? Bill, do you want to contribute?

But I digress. On our last trip to Senafe, we visited Serha, the last town on this side of the UNMEE line. The picture above depicts the last UNMEE camp inside Eritrea. Apparently, Ethiopia is located just on the other side of that camp. The mountains in the background of the picture below are also in Ethiopia.



Here's a picture of Simon in Serha. Serha is probably the most desolate town I've beeen in here. Unlike even the surrounding villages, Serha is flat and barren. At least many of the surrounding villages have hills or trees or cacti or something. Serha has nothing but dirt and small buildings.



We were supposed to take a witness statement or two in Serha, but that didn't pan out. So, instead, we went to another village nearby to take statements. In the picture below, we're taking a witness statement in a hidmo (the traditional house of the Eritrean highlands). We only took one statement that morning becuase the woman we interviewed and her family insisted on giving us coffee, kitcha (a kind of traditional bread), and fritata. And, as I mentioned in a previous post, coffee takes a long time here. But while it wasn't the most productive morning, it was definitely one of the more memorable ones I've had here because I was treated to trypical Eritrean village life; something I don't get a lot of in Asmara.

Keren: The City I've Almost Visited


This past Friday, I went to Keren to interview a couple of witnesses for work. This is the third time I've been in Keren, but so far, I haven't really visited the city. And, unfortunately, with only three weeks remaining until I leave Asmara, I'll probably never make it to Keren for real.

The first two times I was in Keren were in October 2006. We passed through Keren on our way to and from the West. On our way to Barentu, we stopped in Keren just to have lunch and tea, so I basically just saw two buildings: the restaurant where we had lunch and the hotel where we had tea. When we returned from the West, we again stopped in Keren to eat. However, this time I wasn't hungry, so I decided to go explore the market a little bit. I had heard that there were nice baskests in Keren, and I was determined to find some before we left. I did succeed in finding a store where a little old woman was selling beautiful baskets, and I bought a few. It was actually a pretty funny experience, because she couldn't speak English, so we had to communicate in a combination of very limited Tigrinya and Italian and Spanish. (She speaks Italian, and I speak Spanish.) And at one point, she ran out into the street to find a kid who could help her translate something into English.

But, anyway, by that point in our trip, I was low on cash and couldn't afford to buy several of the things I wanted. So, I left Keren determined to return before the end of my stay in Eritrea so that I could spend a lot of money at the market.



Unfortunately, that has never happened, and this Friday was the first time I had been back to Keren since October. Again, I saw very little of the city. We ate lunch at the same restaurant we had been to before and then headed off to the Keren Hospital to meet our witnesses. After completing our work, we actually spent a fair amount of time just hanging out in Keren. However, we didn't really see anything. Instead, Yosief, our driver, and I had regular coffee at the cafe at the hospital and then headed over to another cafe to have traditional coffee. We must have spent an hour and a half just having coffee.



Finally, it was time to go. I had been hoping to stay in Keren for the weekend, but I was waiting to hear from Genet and James about whether they were going to be able to take the bus to Keren and join me. In the end, James said he couldn't come because he didn't get a travel permit, and Genet couldn't tell me whether she could come or not because she was waiting to hear back about something related to her job. So, in the end, rather than spend the weekend alone in Keren, I returned to Asmara with Yosief and the driver.



Maybe someday I will actually make it to Keren, but for now, it shall remain the city I almost visited.

Beverages

At long last, I am finally sitting down to write about the wide world of Eritrean beverages. I'll try to limit this to those that are unique or at least somewhat interesting. The most logical place to begin would probably be with sewa, but since I don't actually have any pictures of sewa, I will begin by discussing Eritrean coffee ceremonies.

Coffee: Traditional Eritrean coffee is a huge production. Traditionally, women make the coffee. Other than the elderly, most people in Asmara only have traditional coffee on special occassions. However, according to my friend Genet, older retired people will make traditional coffee every morning. Traditional coffee is also most common in the villages were people do not have access to either cafes serving cappucinos and macchiatos or to instant coffee.

My friend Genet performed a coffee ceremony for James' parents when they were visiting from Berkeley. Most of the following pictures were taken during that coffee ceremony.

Coffee ceremonies require several specialized devices, including a small cabinet where everything is stored, a short stool, a jemina (the clay pot the coffee is made in), a small stove, charcoal, a mortar and pestal for grinding the coffee, a small pan for roasting, a hair ball (a filter for the jemina made either from plastic or horse hair), and little coffee cups.



From what I can tell, the first step in making Eritrean coffee is to roast the beans. You can find green coffee beans in any store or market here in Eritrea. The woman preparing the coffee then roasts the beans over a charcoal fire like this one.



Next, she would grind the coffee. Traditionally and still in the villages where they don't have electricity, the coffee in ground by hand. The coffee is ground with a mortar and pestal, but I think they vary somewhat from those we use in the states to grind spices. Of course, Genet used an electric coffee grinder to grind ours.

The next step is to put the coffee in the jemina. The jemina should actually already have hot water in it.



Once the coffee is in, you put the jemina back on the stove. The cooking process is fairly lengthy. What Genet did was heat the coffee until it started boiling, then she removed it from the heat and cooled it down, and then put it back on the stove. She did this several times before the coffee was ready, each time checking the color of the coffee in the little tin cup.



Here is a picture of Anna pouring coffee in Tesseney. In Tesseney, they make their traditional coffee with ginger. It is really amazing stuff. The ginger makes the coffee spicy, and in a strange way, it reminds me of the Mexican hot chocolate with the chilis in it. Also, Eritreans like to put a lot of sugar in their coffee, and while the sugar can some times over power regular coffee, it can't overpower the ginger in the coffee from Tesseney.



Sewa: Before I came to Eritrea, I read a book called Ciao Asmara. The author, Justin Hill, referred to Sewa throughout this book as "sewer." And I think that's pretty apt. Sewa is one of those things that Eritreans really like than foreigners will never like. Sure, they will all tell you that you should try their grandmother's sewa or their best friend's aunt's sewa or warm sewa or cold sewa or sewa that is fresh or sewa that is a few days old and that if you just tried this one other kind of sewa, you would like it. But the fact is, you won't. It is just one of those things that foreigners just aren't going to understand, and that's fine. Fortunately, Eritreans often make mes when they make sewa, so I can usually decline the sewa without insulting anyone because I am still having a traditional drink.

Now, I realized, I know very little about sewa. What I do know if that it is an alcoholic beverage (although there is actually a Muslim version that is non-alcoholic) that is made from some sort of fermented bread. As a result, when sewa is fresh, it has chunky things floating in it. Since I don't know how you make sewa, I was hoping to find a website explaining it that I could provide a link to. Unfortunately, I haven't found anything like that.

Mes: Mes is a traditional alcoholic beverage made from honey. If you order it at an Ethiopian or Eritrean restaurant in the states, I believe they call it honey wine. However, mes really isn't wine. First, it is thicker than wine. It isn't thick, but it does have some consistency to it. Also, it doesn't really resemble wine in any other way. It's pretty tasty stuff though. Traditionally, it is served in glass bottles with a bottom that looks something like a smashed ball with a very long neck . That is a horrible explanation, but unforunately I don't have a photo. Also, according to the "mes place" (it's someone's house where they serve mes, so it doesn't seem to have a name), mes is made with red honey. My friend Genet says that honey comes in three colors--red, yellow, and white. I had no idea there was more than one color of honey.

Asmara Beer: What do you think? Do my friends and I drink enough beer?


There is one Eritrean beer brewer and that is the Asmara Beer Factory. From what I have gathered, the Asmara Beer company was previously the Melotti Beer Company, which was owned by an Italian family and was making beer in this country up until the late 90s. Asmara Beer is pretty cheap stuff--about 70 cents a bottle--but it's still a lot better than cheap beer in the US. I mean, I would drink Asmara Beer long before Coors or Budweiser.

Asmara beer bottle have one label on the front. I recently learned that they are actually supposed to have a back label as well, but the mechanical arm at the Asmara Beer Factory that is supposed to apply that label is broken, so the label doesn't go on. I don't know how long the arm has been broken, but what I can tell you is that I have never, in the six months I've been here, seen a beer bottle with two labels.

Zibib: Zibib is the brand name of a traditional Eritrean anis liquor. Zibib is really nasty stuff. It is so strong that literally a month after drinking Zibib out of some plastic cups we have in my house here in Asmara, you could still smell the Zibib. And this was after several washings. But Zibib is pretty popular here. People even put Zibib in tea. It has a special name, but I don't remember what it is. I should probably learn though so no one tricks me into drinking some.

Random Hash Photos...


Unfortunately, I don't really have time to write, but I wanted to post something So, I have decided to share some more photos from the hashes I have been on over the last couple of months.This, of course, means that I am yet again putting off my description of Eritrean beverages, which I have been planning for weeks now. But don't worry. It's coming. And in the meantime, I hope you enjoy these photos.

This first photo is of Niklas, James, and Anna on the December 30, 2006 hash. Because there were only four of us on this hash, we decided to go off trail a bit and expore some areas where we had never been before. At one point, we decided to walk along a ridge-top, which according to the local kids who yelled after us, is populated by hyenas. Fortunately, we didn't actually encounter any hyenas. i wouldn't mind seeing one while I'm here, but I would prefer to do it from the safety of a moving vehicle.


Here's brian, our former fearless leader, on his second to last hash. If you can't read it, his t-shirt says "Poach eggs, not elephants." I think he wore that shirt on every single hash. We miss Brian ... and his Land Rover. Our new fearless leader, Courtney, doesn't have a car, so there is always a risk that no drivers will show up and the hash will have to be cancelled.


Here I am ringing the stone bells outside the church shown below. This was the December 16, 2006 hash and was one of my favorites. Of course, I was scolded for actually ringing the bells rather than just posing with them. Apparently by rining them, I was calling the local villagers to church. Oops ...


This picture is of some village kids we encountered on the December 23, 2006 hash. They were some of the most aggressive I've met. While the village kids are often reluctant to have their pictures taken, these boys insisted that I take their picture.


Check out the three peaks in this picture. They are located between Keren and Barentu, a couple hundred kilomters from Asmara. Pretty impressive landmark, huh? This photo was taken on the February 24, 2007 hash. I had been on this trail before, but the last time I tried to photograph these peaks, my picture didn't turn out at all. This one isn't great, but it is a definite improvement.


We think this is a chalk quarry, but we aren't sure. Anyone know? This was taken on the March 3, 2007 hash.


These next two were taken on the March 8, 2007 hash. This was a really short hash, but we went to a really beautiful location. I'd actually been there once before when there was actually water coming down the waterfall, but this time was more exciting because we actually climbed up the waterfall a bit. Here are Soe, Woldu, and James climbing.


And this photo of Courtney, James, and me was taken down in the canyon.


Finally, my favorite recent hash photo is this one of Soe in the straw hat taken on March 3. He's Burmese, but someone suggested that he looked Mexican in that hat. What do you think?