<p class="title">Crushed tanks and trucks destroyed in Eritrea's war for independence from Ethiopia are piled up on the outskirts of Asmara, a rusting testament to a long and bloody history of conflict.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But the animosity symbolised by the tank graveyard is being swept away.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A new era of friendly relations has dawned between the countries, whose leaders declared a surprise end to two decades of conflict on July 9.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"War? Old fashioned!" a former fighter turned government employee told AFP reporters who last week visited the notoriously hermetic country, which dismantled its private media in 2001 and rarely gives access to foreign journalists.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"At this time, especially the youth, they won't accept (it)."</p>.<p class="bodytext">The breathtaking pace of rapprochement has seen flights resume between Asmara and Addis Ababa and emotion-filled visits by Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki and Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">And for a generation of Eritreans whose lives have been shaped by their government's fear of Ethiopian aggression, there is a glimmer of hope that the diplomatic frenzy may also lead to change at home.<br /><br />A quiet city of sidewalk cafés and picturesque villas, Eritrea's Asmara was named a Unesco World Heritage Site last year for its colonial Italian modernist architecture, including a wing-shaped petrol station and an art-deco cinema that is currently showing the Tour de France.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But while Ethiopia has in recent years enjoyed an economic boom and explosion of construction, Asmara has slowly crumbled, with few signs of development.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Asmara is now old. The asphalt is rough," said an elderly resident gesturing at a cracked sidewalk.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Asked what peace will mean, he again pointed at the walkway and said: "It will be smooth!"</p>.<p class="bodytext">But the biggest question mark for many is whether there will be any change to a compulsory national service programme which includes a period of military training before recruits are funnelled into jobs ranging from hotel receptionist to government functionary.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The service time is meant to be 18 months but has been indefinite since the border war with Ethiopia, and recruits are forbidden from travelling without permission.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Eritrea says the scheme fosters national unity -- but the United Nations has likened it to slavery and hundreds of thousands of Eritreans have fled their country, claiming they fear persecution or retribution linked to the programme.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We've lost so many friends and family members," said 20-year-old art student Feven Ghbru.</p>.<p class="bodytext">About 10 of her friends and relatives have left "to avoid the poverty, and to find other family members," she added.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Maybe if everything changes, they'll stop talking about getting to Europe."</p>.<p class="bodytext">Biniam Tikue, 29, is completing his national service by teaching at an art school, and said many young people feel trapped in Eritrea.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We can't go to another country. If we want to show our art, we have to send it," she said.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The government has defended the mandatory service and other repressive policies limiting free speech and political opposition as crucial for countering the perceived threat from Ethiopia.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Everyone understands the situation with Ethiopia," said Yared Yemane, 29, who is serving his national service as a football player.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"But maybe if we were at peace, nobody would want that, so maybe it would change."<br /><br />Eritrea was once a province of Ethiopia until Isaias led a decades-long rebellion that saw Asmara secede following a referendum in 1993.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The two countries were back at war five years later when a border dispute erupted into a two-year conflict that killed around 80,000 people.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A peace treaty ended the fighting, but Ethiopia ignored a 2002 UN border demarcation and occupied territory that had been awarded to Eritrea.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After the war deadlocked, Isaias jailed many perceived regime opponents and shut down independent newspapers.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In the face of what was presented as Ethiopian provocation, some Eritreans saw their government's policies as necessary.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We paid with a lot of our friends' (lives), but it's OK," said David Gebremichael, a former fighter who lost four of his seven brothers in the independence war.</p>.<p class="bodytext">He now works for the ruling People's Front for Democracy and Justice.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"(It) was for our freedom -- and for the border."</p>.<p class="bodytext">Abiy has promised to finally accept the UN border ruling, but neither side so far has mentioned a troop pullout. And Isaias has said little about potential changes at home.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But last week, these and other potential hurdles were far from people's minds.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In hotels and restaurants, strangers greeted Ethiopian visitors who arrived on the resumed flight with cries of welcome.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We are the same people!" some cried.</p>
<p class="title">Crushed tanks and trucks destroyed in Eritrea's war for independence from Ethiopia are piled up on the outskirts of Asmara, a rusting testament to a long and bloody history of conflict.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But the animosity symbolised by the tank graveyard is being swept away.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A new era of friendly relations has dawned between the countries, whose leaders declared a surprise end to two decades of conflict on July 9.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"War? Old fashioned!" a former fighter turned government employee told AFP reporters who last week visited the notoriously hermetic country, which dismantled its private media in 2001 and rarely gives access to foreign journalists.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"At this time, especially the youth, they won't accept (it)."</p>.<p class="bodytext">The breathtaking pace of rapprochement has seen flights resume between Asmara and Addis Ababa and emotion-filled visits by Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki and Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">And for a generation of Eritreans whose lives have been shaped by their government's fear of Ethiopian aggression, there is a glimmer of hope that the diplomatic frenzy may also lead to change at home.<br /><br />A quiet city of sidewalk cafés and picturesque villas, Eritrea's Asmara was named a Unesco World Heritage Site last year for its colonial Italian modernist architecture, including a wing-shaped petrol station and an art-deco cinema that is currently showing the Tour de France.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But while Ethiopia has in recent years enjoyed an economic boom and explosion of construction, Asmara has slowly crumbled, with few signs of development.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Asmara is now old. The asphalt is rough," said an elderly resident gesturing at a cracked sidewalk.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Asked what peace will mean, he again pointed at the walkway and said: "It will be smooth!"</p>.<p class="bodytext">But the biggest question mark for many is whether there will be any change to a compulsory national service programme which includes a period of military training before recruits are funnelled into jobs ranging from hotel receptionist to government functionary.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The service time is meant to be 18 months but has been indefinite since the border war with Ethiopia, and recruits are forbidden from travelling without permission.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Eritrea says the scheme fosters national unity -- but the United Nations has likened it to slavery and hundreds of thousands of Eritreans have fled their country, claiming they fear persecution or retribution linked to the programme.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We've lost so many friends and family members," said 20-year-old art student Feven Ghbru.</p>.<p class="bodytext">About 10 of her friends and relatives have left "to avoid the poverty, and to find other family members," she added.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Maybe if everything changes, they'll stop talking about getting to Europe."</p>.<p class="bodytext">Biniam Tikue, 29, is completing his national service by teaching at an art school, and said many young people feel trapped in Eritrea.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We can't go to another country. If we want to show our art, we have to send it," she said.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The government has defended the mandatory service and other repressive policies limiting free speech and political opposition as crucial for countering the perceived threat from Ethiopia.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"Everyone understands the situation with Ethiopia," said Yared Yemane, 29, who is serving his national service as a football player.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"But maybe if we were at peace, nobody would want that, so maybe it would change."<br /><br />Eritrea was once a province of Ethiopia until Isaias led a decades-long rebellion that saw Asmara secede following a referendum in 1993.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The two countries were back at war five years later when a border dispute erupted into a two-year conflict that killed around 80,000 people.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A peace treaty ended the fighting, but Ethiopia ignored a 2002 UN border demarcation and occupied territory that had been awarded to Eritrea.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After the war deadlocked, Isaias jailed many perceived regime opponents and shut down independent newspapers.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In the face of what was presented as Ethiopian provocation, some Eritreans saw their government's policies as necessary.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We paid with a lot of our friends' (lives), but it's OK," said David Gebremichael, a former fighter who lost four of his seven brothers in the independence war.</p>.<p class="bodytext">He now works for the ruling People's Front for Democracy and Justice.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"(It) was for our freedom -- and for the border."</p>.<p class="bodytext">Abiy has promised to finally accept the UN border ruling, but neither side so far has mentioned a troop pullout. And Isaias has said little about potential changes at home.</p>.<p class="bodytext">But last week, these and other potential hurdles were far from people's minds.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In hotels and restaurants, strangers greeted Ethiopian visitors who arrived on the resumed flight with cries of welcome.</p>.<p class="bodytext">"We are the same people!" some cried.</p>