VSO In country training Home VSO Eritrea 2003 Back l-r Will, Helen, Dirk, Dave, Judith, Neil, Pete, Mell, Fliss, Tabby, Danny, Nacy, Anna, Jo, Terje, Hannah Front l-r Nadine, Joseb, Me, Amanuel, Tom, Graham, bernadette, Eden, Alex The adventure began at Heathrow, and it seemed quite an achievement when 25 of us all arrived here at Asmara airport. Some familiar faces, some “old friends” from late nights in Harbourne bar and some strangers, just friends I hadn’t met yet. At least someone was here to meet us, already we were impressed with the slick organisation of VSO Asmara. After what seemed longer than the flight we were through to customs – Eritean Official: “anything to declare” Volunteer : “nothing but my intention to share my skills and change the lives of the people of this impoverished country – and a laptop, MP3 player and video camera.” Arriving in the art deco splendour (honest, it said so in the guide book) of the Selam hotel we took our first taste of Asmara Beer, decided the country probably wasn’t so bad and took off to bed. The next morning we failed to get our money from the VSO and headed penniless into town to lunch at Casa, where we met the serving volunteers, who seemed like a nice bunch (I have to say that, they’ll be reading this). AJ took us on a route march round most (all?) of the cities landmarks. Given that I now know how compact Amara is I wonder how we managed to cover the equivalent of two marathons in the guided tour, I swear at one point we were in Keren market. The next day our indoctrination (surely induction – ed) began in earnest at Denden school. The series of talks and lessons was to leave a lasting impression on me – principally on my backside, which still has an impression of the school benches, Pete definitely had the right idea in bringing his own personal cushion. Language lessens at Denden Me, Helen, Mell and Programme director Terje Learned some Tigrinya from Amanuel (and promptly forgot most of it). The three times repetition certainly works, now I know lots of Tigrinya words, learning what they actually mean will take considerably more time. How come half the time I cannot remember the word for Onion, but will never forget Rubejetto? I wonder what the Eritreans thought as walking past the open classroom window they heard 20 foreign voices shouting “Bra, Bra, Bra” in unison? Speaking of Amanuel, the sight of him busting moves on the dance floor of the cultural centre will not easily be forgotten. Some of us mastered the shoulder shugging more easily than others, though personally speaking I’ve been dancing like that for years. As part of our cultural exchange it is our duty to teach the people of Eritea “big fish, little fish, cardboard box”. Tom, Nadine, Pete, Graham, Hannah and Helen with amanuel in traditional dress Cultural evening We were welcomed to the country more times than I can remember – its nice to be wanted. A common thread of all Eritrean officials appears to be their inability to give a concise answer if a ten minute discourse will do. From Dr Tewolde We learned all about the relative angle of the sun in Eritrea and London, from a Kenyan soldier to carry our radios when we go into a minefield and from the British ambassador to always wear a cycle helmet (not sure if that was specifically in minefields, but I suppose it might help). The security talk wasn’t too worrying – lock those bikes folks, but I was personally scared witless by the teaching in Eritrea talk. School starts at 7 AM and lasts for 11 hours – I want my money back. The weekend came and a ride to Massawa, downhill all the way, they said. All arrived safely despite nearly losing Mel and Tabby en route. Arriving at Mai Wui I had my first hot shower for a week (not my first shower I hasten to add) and the temperature outside was about 30 degrees. Spent the weekend mostly sweating, even when I was swimming – I’m sure the Red Sea was deeper when I got out. We returned to the sumptuous luxury of Terje’s BBQ, a gastronomic event par excellence, rounded off by a 5-a-side kickabout (at least Angela seemed to spend most of the game kicking me about). New volunteers give a recital ably accompanied by Tom on geeetar Fliss, me and Dirk at Terje's BBQ The visit to Adi Gaul showed us how the other half live, we repaid Kirsty’s hospitality by carrying a jerry can each from the well to fill her barrel. Collection of the water was somewhat complicated by our lack of a bucket on a rope to lower into the well, a dilemma soon solved by lowering Graham into the well. The journey back by bicycle was made more interesting by double punctures. We caught a ride on a passing Mule cart to Debarwa. The mule, named “Beckham” was possibly the slowest transportation available in Eritrea, and would grind to a halt when faced with a stiff oncoming breeze. It would probably have been quicker to have unhitched Beckham, put him on the cart and pulled it ourselves. At the end of induction we were made rich beyond our wildest dreams when we received our household grant and three months salary supplement, probably enough to buy a slap up meal at casa and leave change for the obligatory chest from Medeba and raffia rug. Now fully integrated into Eritrean culture we were no longer the “new vols”, able to order a panino enquaquaho (sp?) and five different types of Asmara Liquor we were ready to teach!