There's a lot we could say about the country which will remain unsaid and it's important to remember why we were there as we leave - to try and help with the education of Eritrean children from all the ethnic groups ...
Tigre children, She'eb
P
Wednesday 23 December 2009
Last Post (from Phil)
I don't have much more to say except to echo Caroline's wishes and to add that I will miss both playing and watching football with my Eritrean friends and colleagues (Saturday afternoon at the Cinema Roma!).
There's a lot we could say about the country which will remain unsaid and it's important to remember why we were there as we leave - to try and help with the education of Eritrean children from all the ethnic groups ...
P
There's a lot we could say about the country which will remain unsaid and it's important to remember why we were there as we leave - to try and help with the education of Eritrean children from all the ethnic groups ...
P
Wednesday 16 December 2009
The Last Post (from Caroline)
So we reach the time to write a last blog. It doesn’t seem that long since the setting up of the blog one afternoon in the UK two years ago. At that time it seemed like a good way to keep family and friends in touch with what we were doing without having to write countless cut and paste emails. It’s turned into less and more. Less because we probably haven’t put in enough day-to-day details to keep family and friends informed and entertained, more because I feel we ended up trying to express some of the feelings we have for this country, confused that they are, and then only half succeeding.
Some of the many things I shall remember about Eritrea:
The beauty, kindness, and generosity of spirit in the face of all adversity, of her people
The dedication of teachers, working against tremendous odds, to prepare children for the future.
The feeling of a very small hand shaking mine as a two year old that I’ve said hello to automatically completes the polite greeting she sees her elders do.
Being greeted as old friends with the requisite five-minute hello acknowledgment by all the regulars we see on our way to and from work.
Being able to sit outside under a blue sky at Modka for my coffee break of cappuccino and pizza for eleven and a half months of the year.
The ruins of the old city at Massawa
Bananas
Tomatoes
Mousebirds
Eagles
I’ve been told many times about the euphoria and optimism that gripped the country in the 1990s, after the successful end to the Struggles of the previous 30 years. Eritrea, I send you my love and hopes that these dreams become a reality.
C
Some of the many things I shall remember about Eritrea:
The beauty, kindness, and generosity of spirit in the face of all adversity, of her people
The dedication of teachers, working against tremendous odds, to prepare children for the future.
The feeling of a very small hand shaking mine as a two year old that I’ve said hello to automatically completes the polite greeting she sees her elders do.
Being greeted as old friends with the requisite five-minute hello acknowledgment by all the regulars we see on our way to and from work.
Being able to sit outside under a blue sky at Modka for my coffee break of cappuccino and pizza for eleven and a half months of the year.
The ruins of the old city at Massawa
Bananas
Tomatoes
Mousebirds
Eagles
I’ve been told many times about the euphoria and optimism that gripped the country in the 1990s, after the successful end to the Struggles of the previous 30 years. Eritrea, I send you my love and hopes that these dreams become a reality.
C
Thursday 10 December 2009
Schools' Solar Power – Last Update?
Firstly, our apologies for not posting very often lately, but our departure from Eritrea is coming up very fast now and we have a lot to do to finish up work and get round to seeing people before we leave.
The remote schools' solar power project is still running and, in the past few weeks, there has been a day-long workshop and a few days'-worth of teaching labs to get some of the participants from the the schools in phase 2 of the project together for a while.
From a personal point of view, a very interesting few days as school staff from some far-flung corners came to Asmara for the occasion and among them were representatives of Eritrea's other ethnic groups (Tigre, Saho and Afar for example). All were very enthusiastic about the project which introduces computer technology into some very remote spots for the first time and I got my usual kick out of teaching one or two people who had never used a computer before.
Due to VSO's departure from Eritrea next year, the project has had to be curtailed somewhat since the major donor was no longer prepared to commit funds for the third year without VSO's presence. However, other donors have held firm, with the result that 21 schools out of 25 originally projected to receive equipment will do so by the project's new end date of June / July 2010.
It may seem odd to use solar power in this way (as opposed to supplying basic needs) but solar power is often already present for pumping water and serving medical centres and local communities do see their children getting a helping-hand in the use of technology as being very important. The MoE for its part is viewing the whole project as a start-point for wider introduction of panels.
In this part of the world distributed power-generation by means of the sun makes perfect sense and should become the norm ... but it takes time and capital investment so there is a long way to go. When the generation technology eventually meets up with ultra-low power devices we'll see some real progress.
A couple of weekends ago there were a couple of holidays starting with the Muslim Eid Al-Adha and continuing on with saints' days for the Zoba Maekel region (nick named Nigdet Asmara). Unsurprisingly it's a matter of visiting the houses of friends and family and consuming various quantities of injera with meat (in our case we had zigni and dulot on Saturday). As usual it wasn't a good time to be a goat or sheep and the baa'ing which was coming from the next compound (there is a Muslim family living next door) soon stopped come Friday.
P
Solar panels at a school
The remote schools' solar power project is still running and, in the past few weeks, there has been a day-long workshop and a few days'-worth of teaching labs to get some of the participants from the the schools in phase 2 of the project together for a while.
From a personal point of view, a very interesting few days as school staff from some far-flung corners came to Asmara for the occasion and among them were representatives of Eritrea's other ethnic groups (Tigre, Saho and Afar for example). All were very enthusiastic about the project which introduces computer technology into some very remote spots for the first time and I got my usual kick out of teaching one or two people who had never used a computer before.
Due to VSO's departure from Eritrea next year, the project has had to be curtailed somewhat since the major donor was no longer prepared to commit funds for the third year without VSO's presence. However, other donors have held firm, with the result that 21 schools out of 25 originally projected to receive equipment will do so by the project's new end date of June / July 2010.
It may seem odd to use solar power in this way (as opposed to supplying basic needs) but solar power is often already present for pumping water and serving medical centres and local communities do see their children getting a helping-hand in the use of technology as being very important. The MoE for its part is viewing the whole project as a start-point for wider introduction of panels.
In this part of the world distributed power-generation by means of the sun makes perfect sense and should become the norm ... but it takes time and capital investment so there is a long way to go. When the generation technology eventually meets up with ultra-low power devices we'll see some real progress.
Eid Al-Adha and Nigdet Asmara
A couple of weekends ago there were a couple of holidays starting with the Muslim Eid Al-Adha and continuing on with saints' days for the Zoba Maekel region (nick named Nigdet Asmara). Unsurprisingly it's a matter of visiting the houses of friends and family and consuming various quantities of injera with meat (in our case we had zigni and dulot on Saturday). As usual it wasn't a good time to be a goat or sheep and the baa'ing which was coming from the next compound (there is a Muslim family living next door) soon stopped come Friday.
P
Tuesday 17 November 2009
Graduation Eritrea-Style
A scene from a party tent
Education is taken seriously in this country with the emphasis being on getting as many children into school as possible and onward into Technical and Vocational training later in the school career.
Graduation from higher education is also taken seriously and is a happy occasion with celebrations taking place in many households once the technical school ceremonies are over.
Last weekend we were invited to attend two such parties one in Asmara and one in Adi Guadad, which is a village not very far away. Since both required the consumption of food, cake and suwa we were both quite stuffed by the end of the day. For the graduates these are big occasions, as important as weddings in many respects, and they dress in academic attire complete with mortar board. Proud parents are in the forefront and other relatives attend with the ladies wearing traditional dress, for the most part, just like at a wedding
P
Friday 6 November 2009
Our 2008 Christmas Appeal – Thanks to all our contributors
Well it started off as an appeal to buy a (dangerous-looking) motorised tricycle for Dawit a friend of ours who is confined to a wheelchair due to severe childhood polio. Research, however, showed us that such vehicles were not easy to come by any more and that there were less and less of them on the streets of Asmara due to a shortage of spare parts and of fuel the cost of which can be a problem here in Eritrea. Following consultation with the head of the Eritrean Veterans’ Association (who is well used to assessing people with severe war-related disability) and who expressed doubts about Dawit’s ability to manage such a machine, it was decided to divert the funds into his street vending business with a view to his buying a kiosk eventually.
Dawit was also given assurances about free maintenance and replacement of his wheelchair by the Veterans’ Association as and when it becomes necessary.
For our part, we have now wrapped up the appeal and handed over the total which has, for the time being, been paid into Dawit’s savings account. His family and friends are going to keep us informed of his future progress by email.
So once again – thanks a lot to everyone who sent us money, let’s hope it makes a difference.
P
Saturday 17 October 2009
A Walk on the Wild Side
All cities have their murky, seamy side; their raw, dark underbelly and these need to be visited sometimes in order to get an idea of the way in which the ‘real’ people live. Well at least that’s the theory.
And so it was that I set out (with very little trepidation, really) earlier this week with a Habesha friend to visit the Abashawl area of Asmara and to sample some local Suwa in one of the many drinking dens to be found there.
Abashawl was known as “the Native Quarter” in Italian colonial times (Eritreans were not permitted to live in the main part of the Italian city at that time) and remains to this day a warren of unmade streets seemingly thrown down with little planning on a hillside on the edge of central Asmara. Its buildings are small and have painted plastered walls, with light-blue being the predominant colour, unlike the sherbet of the rest of Asmara, and with sometimes-rusting corrugated iron roofs.
It has also served as Asmara’s East End or Lower East Side with new arrivals from the country-side to the big city traditionally being able to take cheap accommodation here (often with many sharing a room) while they found their economic feet.
Suwa is a local alcoholic brew whose main ingredient is said to be sorghum. It’s really an unfiltered, cloudy beer and is typically not very strong although it’s highly variable in both strength and colour (from dark to a kind of muddy brown) since it’s home made.
Upon arrival it wasn’t long before my friend pointed out a few Suwa Houses. “How can you tell?” I asked. Well, it was explained that each has a sign consisting of an inverted metal drum with an inverted enamelled suwa cup on top of it just standing outside. So we stepped into the heart of darkness, where respectable Asmarinos fear to tread … actually it was more like stepping into somebody’s old and battered but very clean and well-kept front-room with the other (all male) participants in the drinking orgy sitting quietly on wooden benches sipping from suwa cups and being served by the very polite daughter of the household.
In general the occasion just seems to be a chance to catch up on gossip for a while – as far as I could gather subjects for conversation ranged from the current state of the harvests to the cold day that it had been, later the lady of the house came in with a charcoal stove, presumably to heat the room, and joined in the conversation. At one point the worry was expressed that prices would rise if too many “like me” came for suwa but it was agreed that I could come back provided I didn’t spread the word.
Later we went on a brief tour of Abashawl, before our return to downtown Asmara. The streets were alive with children playing and women with open fires preparing suwa and coffee and, in one street, there were girls standing provocatively in doorways; they were, perhaps, selling something a little different.
And so it was that I set out (with very little trepidation, really) earlier this week with a Habesha friend to visit the Abashawl area of Asmara and to sample some local Suwa in one of the many drinking dens to be found there.
Abashawl was known as “the Native Quarter” in Italian colonial times (Eritreans were not permitted to live in the main part of the Italian city at that time) and remains to this day a warren of unmade streets seemingly thrown down with little planning on a hillside on the edge of central Asmara. Its buildings are small and have painted plastered walls, with light-blue being the predominant colour, unlike the sherbet of the rest of Asmara, and with sometimes-rusting corrugated iron roofs.
It has also served as Asmara’s East End or Lower East Side with new arrivals from the country-side to the big city traditionally being able to take cheap accommodation here (often with many sharing a room) while they found their economic feet.
Suwa is a local alcoholic brew whose main ingredient is said to be sorghum. It’s really an unfiltered, cloudy beer and is typically not very strong although it’s highly variable in both strength and colour (from dark to a kind of muddy brown) since it’s home made.
Upon arrival it wasn’t long before my friend pointed out a few Suwa Houses. “How can you tell?” I asked. Well, it was explained that each has a sign consisting of an inverted metal drum with an inverted enamelled suwa cup on top of it just standing outside. So we stepped into the heart of darkness, where respectable Asmarinos fear to tread … actually it was more like stepping into somebody’s old and battered but very clean and well-kept front-room with the other (all male) participants in the drinking orgy sitting quietly on wooden benches sipping from suwa cups and being served by the very polite daughter of the household.
In general the occasion just seems to be a chance to catch up on gossip for a while – as far as I could gather subjects for conversation ranged from the current state of the harvests to the cold day that it had been, later the lady of the house came in with a charcoal stove, presumably to heat the room, and joined in the conversation. At one point the worry was expressed that prices would rise if too many “like me” came for suwa but it was agreed that I could come back provided I didn’t spread the word.
Later we went on a brief tour of Abashawl, before our return to downtown Asmara. The streets were alive with children playing and women with open fires preparing suwa and coffee and, in one street, there were girls standing provocatively in doorways; they were, perhaps, selling something a little different.
P
Friday 2 October 2009
An Intake of Breath
I’ve referred to the Tigrinya language and its strangulated, choking sounds before – essentially a lot of it comes about by closing the airways (including making those harsh pharyngeal stops) in different ways to those used in European languages. There are also the non-word sounds, which are also quite different, to consider.
When we lived in Japan it wasn’t just the language that we got used to hearing but also the other noises that people make. For example, “ee-ee-ee-eh?” - starting high and rising, usually uttered by women - is an expression of surprise, the more barked “arey?” being the male equivalent. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm accompanying what the speaker is saying is agreement and an indication that the listener is in fact listening.
Here, we have Wa! (can almost sound like Mwa! or Bwa!) for surprise or for when something is going badly wrong. A click made with the tongue against the roof of the mouth (which certain volunteers, who shall remain nameless, developed to an over-use extreme) is agreement, sort of like “yes you’re right”. But the most subtle one is the Habesha-intake-of-breath which is a kind of agreement as well, but on the lines of “I understand”.
This last one takes a bit of getting used to – you start by asking yourself “well what have I just said that this person should be so shocked, I was only explaining a mundane point about MS Excel why is he / she so surprised?” but then you realise it’s just an occasional interjection to show understanding and the paying of attention.
Language evolves, of course, and things move on and perhaps the need to have an actual person to listen to is disappearing as demonstrated by one of Caroline’s colleagues who has been known to use the intake-of-breath to himself while sitting at his computer, probably in response to a point he’s just made in a document.
When we lived in Japan it wasn’t just the language that we got used to hearing but also the other noises that people make. For example, “ee-ee-ee-eh?” - starting high and rising, usually uttered by women - is an expression of surprise, the more barked “arey?” being the male equivalent. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm accompanying what the speaker is saying is agreement and an indication that the listener is in fact listening.
Here, we have Wa! (can almost sound like Mwa! or Bwa!) for surprise or for when something is going badly wrong. A click made with the tongue against the roof of the mouth (which certain volunteers, who shall remain nameless, developed to an over-use extreme) is agreement, sort of like “yes you’re right”. But the most subtle one is the Habesha-intake-of-breath which is a kind of agreement as well, but on the lines of “I understand”.
This last one takes a bit of getting used to – you start by asking yourself “well what have I just said that this person should be so shocked, I was only explaining a mundane point about MS Excel why is he / she so surprised?” but then you realise it’s just an occasional interjection to show understanding and the paying of attention.
Language evolves, of course, and things move on and perhaps the need to have an actual person to listen to is disappearing as demonstrated by one of Caroline’s colleagues who has been known to use the intake-of-breath to himself while sitting at his computer, probably in response to a point he’s just made in a document.
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