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- FROM THE PUBLISHER, Page 4
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- Andrew Purvis, who reported a good chunk of this week's cover
- package on Somalia, may have been destined for his assignment
- in Africa. When he was a boy, his paternal grandfather, a
- chemical-company executive, filled his head with great tales
- about his work and travels throughout the dark continent in the
- 1920s, while his maternal grandmother, who lived in South
- Africa, filled his mailbox with wooden spears, shields, even
- plastic Zulu dolls. When Purvis turned 21, he started out on a
- year of thumbing across Africa, riding mostly on transport
- trucks and camping out alone or staying with Peace Corps
- volunteers. "Back then I made a point of avoiding trouble
- spots," says Purvis, now 34, who began his tour in Africa for
- TIME last summer. "These days, I seem to find trouble
- everywhere."
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- Case in point: Monrovia, Liberia, where Purvis arrived a
- month ago on a chartered flight just after rebels started
- shelling the airport runway to impede Nigerian troops. He spent a
- scary night holed up in a dilapidated beachfront hotel, he says,
- "listening to artillery fire mingled with the sound of crashing
- waves as I filed a story on a laptop computer." On his way out
- the next day, three Liberian "security" officials detained
- Purvis in a small room at the airport and shook him down for a
- $60 bribe. It was pay or stay. "They each got $20, which was big
- money to them," he says.
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- An inveterate hitchhiker, the Canadian-born Purvis had
- trekked his way across North America five times by the age of
- 20. He studied science at Middlebury College and journalism at
- Columbia University and, before joining TIME in 1989, enjoyed
- stints at both a daily newspaper and a physician's journal. But
- even his medical background couldn't prepare Purvis for the
- human suffering and starvation he has witnessed in Somalia.
- "After my first visit, in August, I didn't feel like eating for
- days," he recalls. "I had never seen someone die before, and
- there I watched several die. One boy wept over his last
- brother's body right in the middle of a busy feeding center,
- and nobody stopped to notice." Well, almost nobody.
-
- Elizabeth P. Valk
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