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Photo Essay: Eritrea
by Cheryl Hatch, Fall 1999 IRP Fellow
Reprinted by Permission of The San Francisco Chronicle, February 6, 2000
After a 30-year war for independence, Eritrea was poised
to become a modern nation. Then fighting erupted again.
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"How do you get our country?''
"How do you get the situation?''
At first, I don't even get the question. But I'm asked it frequently in Eritrea: in the cafes in Asmara, at the
trenches at Tserona, in the refugee camp in Jejah, at church, on the bus, in the taxi, on the disco dance
floor.
Watchful Eyes: A lone soldier guards the trenches from an acacia tree at the
Ethiopian-Ertirean border
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They don't use the word "war.'' They don't have to. It's unspoken and instantly understood.
War permeates their lives, their national psyche, their songs, their art. War is part of
their history, an omnipresent and unwelcome part of their current "situation."
Morning Devotions: An elderly woman clutches her prayer book during a sunrise service
in Asmara, Eritrea's capital.
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"Do you want to see the dead bodies?'' asks Mekonnen Woldeysus, my government minder.
He works for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and has been assigned to give me the
guided tour of the front line at Tserona -- site of an epic battle with Ethiopia in
March that's already part of Eritrean legend.
In the Trenches: The leg bones of an Ethopian soldier protrude from his boots.
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