Oprah is doing a segment on Northern Uganda - and will be featuring Evaline!

Please check out The Next Right Thing for more information!!!

I heard about Evaline (sometimes spelled Evelyn or Evalyn) through Els de Temmerman in Northern Uganda and worked to bring her here for surgery. She was abducted by the LRA (check out Name Campaign for the larger story of these guys) and was used as a human shield by her captors when a bomb went off. The shrapnel lodged in her face and hurt her so terribly. She was alone in the bush, just trying to survive. I honestly don't know how she made it.

She eventually escaped and made it to The Rachele Rehabilitation Center. She had a few surgeries in Uganda but she was in so much pain and could barely eat or drink. She was so ashamed of the way she looked that she would hold a cloth over her face whenever she talked to anyone.

It seemed like I was never going to get through the gazillion obstacles and paperwork and details needed to get Evaline here - but it happened! Last fall, she flew from Uganda to Fort Wayne, Indiana to live with two wonderful host families (the Gerigs and the Kellers) and receive free surgery from incredibly generous doctors in Fort Wayne. Tami Shobe of Children's Medical Missions West, an organization that I work with a lot (and admire) got the surgery donated and found the host family. She's a rock star, really and truly.

If you want to help out kids like Evaline or just learn more about the work I do with kids in medical need, check out The Next Right Thing.

Oprah is also going to talk about Invisible Children and Night Commute - so watch the show Wednesday, April 26th!

xoxo!

Cori

It's been a good week. We got free medical care for four more kids from the refugee camp. Now we've just got to wend our way through the UN red tape and get the visas from the US Embassy in Ghana.

Oh - and if any of you know anyone in Miami, I'm looking for a great family to host Oluchi, a really sweet 13 year old girl from Nigeria headed there for surgery. A great doctor named Dr. Marx has donated his services. He's one of the best in the world at this kind of thing.

On the Uganda front:

Tami of Children's Medical Missions came through for us as always with care for Scovia, an eight year old girl who has a bullet lodged in her head, courtesy of the LRA in Northern Uganda. Her mother was abducted by the LRA and later gave birth to Scovia while still a prisoner. Scovia was being carried by her mother, when they were caught in crossfire and Scovia was hit by a bullet in the side of the head, which is still lodged in her head. We've just heard that a surgeon in Detroit will offer his services, which is GREAT news. We're not sure yet if the best thing is to remove the bullet or leave it. We need further tests.

Here's someone I'd love to get help for - but don't know if I can. William was abducted by the LRA when he was just 11. He's 22 now. He survived a bomb blast, which injured his head. He now has shrapnel embedded in his brain. It's lodged in the right side of his head behind his ear. He also suffers from extreme weakness in both his upper and lower limbs. My friend who met him wrote that "William has a sweet disposition and is hopeful that God will answer his prayers."

Honestly, William's case breaks my heart most of all. I can get free care for children - but when a doctor or potential funders look at William's picture all they see an African man who used to be a rebel. I wish they could look at it and see a little boy who was abducted at 11 because he didn't have a safe place to sleep. The kid never had a chance.

Does anybody out there happen to know a compassionate gifted neurosurgeon?

See the kid inside the man. See William.

Back in LA. My duffel bag is still strewn about the living room and I've just run out of malaria pills.

Today my schedule consists of two things:

1) Finalizing details to get Emmanuel, a five year old handicapped orphan in need of medical care out of an African war zone and into a hospital in the US.

and

2) Getting notes from my producer on my latest script.

Is it wrong that I'm equally excited by both?

Hey all-

Still in West Africa. Burning tires and riot footage from the news aside, I'm actually quite fine eating popcorn and listening to my IPOD.

If you're here because of the ABC News segment, welcome and thanks for caring enough to look me up. I'd love to hear from you - leave your email address in the comment section and when I get to a high-speed connection, I'll put you on my list and write you back when I'm back to the land of lattes and super-connectivity.

In the meantime, on this site is a bit of info on my recent adventures and archives with the stories of how I got into this work. Please also check out The Strongheart Fellowship. If you want an overview, here's my bio.

Oh - and if you'd like to make a general donation to help support my work, the donate button is here somewhere. All help is MUCH appreciated, tax deductible, and well-spent. I'll send out receipts as soon as I get home. You can also donate on The Strongheart Fellowship website.

Best As Always,

Cori

ps - Mom, PLEASE don't worry. I'm FINE. I even had time to finish writing the script. See, civil unrest CAN be useful.

Hey - welcome! This isn't a typical blog in that I don't post everyday - just when I've been travelling and need to check in or have something kinda urgent or momentous to talk about. Here's a brief overview of what you might find here:

Basically, I do a few things:
1) I'm a screenwriter and a producer.
2) I'm the director of a program called Strongheart Fellowship.
3) Occasionally I act as sort of a "freelance agent for humanity" or (as I sometimes feel when shlepping medicine and supplies) the less glamourous "roadie for humanity." Essentially I do whatever projects that sometimes fly below the radar of larger aid organizations that come to my attention and that I have the resources to assist. (You can read my bio here if you want more details.)

Best,

Cori

PAMPERS et TANTRUMS in THE THIRD WORLD...

I'm headed back to Ghana today from Cote d'Ivoire, barring some unforeseen civil unrest arising this afternooon. Kristi is going to stay to finish the paperwork on Emmanuel and Andre, the two kids we're trying to bring to the US for surgery. Andre is in pretty bad shape - he's the younger one - just five months old.

If he doesn't get surgery in the next two weeks for hydrocephalus, he'll possibly lose his sight. We're still working on all the details, trying to get them passports, visas, enough cash for airfare, etc. We priced diapers this morning at the airport when I was there buying my ticket and they were $28 DOLLARS for a PACK OF TEN! I know that's airport prices but still - HOLY COW. Guess we're going to do as the locals do and use a cloth or something until we can get some at a decent price. EVERYTHING is so expensive in this country - I guess because of the war.

I don't mean to be such a whiner - we've been staying in our hotel for free for the last week because the hotel owner wants to help us get these two kids out and we couldn't afford it otherwise - but dang, there are some challenging things about this country. I've had some personality clashes here - two in particular - very uncharacteristic for me in Africa.

I have noticed that in countries that were former British colonies I do really well (I LOVE NIGERIA) but in former French colonies, I run into trouble. It's not the language barrier - I seem to do okay with that. It's just that I feel like SUCH an American here (which I don't think is a bad thing) and my Texas roots are absolutely showing - I'm like a big galumphing Labrador puppy in a country that DEFINITELY prefers cats. I think it's the French influence and I just don't know the secret handshake. I'm trying to get over myself but I'm mostly reacting ungracefully by taking it too personally. ("But they HATE me!"- said while bursting into tears.) At least in my hotel room or in front of just Kristi, I'm acting a feverish selfish little clod complaining that the world is not devoting itself to liking my Texan puppy self. (see quote under my profile).

Poor Kristi is going to be the one who carries the two kids from Cote d'Ivoire to Ghana (where we'll fly out to the US). I'm going to Ghana in advance to get back to Buduburam Refugee Camp to deal with some last minute details and work on the school opening. I'll buy diapers while I'm there. I'm sure they'll still pricey but MUCH more reasonable. The cloth thing will NOT do for the 20 hour plane trip back to Los Angeles. We consider ourselves humanitarians and couldn't possibly subject our fellow flyers to the results of that debacle.

Best As Always,

Cori

I'm taking off for Ghana for the school opening and Kristi is staying behind in Cote d'Ivoire to get the kids. It's hysterical that she managed to avoid an interview during the entire ABC piece - but now has to host an ENTIRE press conference on her own because I'm gone. She's not nearly as amused as I am.

Here's the press conference coverage from the US Embassy website:

"American Tourists Help to Send Sick Ivoirian Orphans to the United States for Medical Care"

I love how we're "tourists" in Cote d'Ivoire. Because we just looove to tour the dangerous, unfriendly war zones...

(ABIDJAN) The United States Embassy will host a press conference on Monday, January 30, 2006, at 11AM, with an American tourist that has gone to extraordinary lengths to provide medical care for two Ivoirian orphans who have life-threatening medical conditions. The director of the orphanage will share how this remarkable story happened. Christi Manning, from Los Angeles, California, will explain how she and her friend Cori Stern found the two children in Bouake while looking for another orphan who had been adopted by an American woman. Through the American humanitarian organization, Childrens Medical Mission, they have found doctors in the United States who are willing to perform life saving surgery for free and from family and friends have raised money to fly the children to the United States.

Journalists interested in attending their press conference are asked to confirm their presence by 5PM on Friday, January 27, 2006 with Folli Teko, Information Specialist at the American Embassy on 22 49 45 99 or via email at tekofx@state.gov.

As we were making arrangements to leave the country, a woman named Felicite who works for the UN and had helped guide us through the rebel zone contacted us about another child in an orphanage in the north. His name is Andre. (See above.) He's five months old and has hydrocephalus. Of course I groaned, we were trying to get OUT of here - but if Andre doesn't get out and have surgery within the next two weeks, he'll lose his sight and eventually his life.

So, here we are, STILL in Cote d'Ivoire - frantically emailing back and forth with Tami of Children's Medical Missions (who gets health care in the US donated for kids like this) - meeting with the authorities here to establish that we're not child traffickers, etc. . Kristi has taken to affectionately calling Emmanuel "Little Big Head" and Andre "Little Bigger Head." Again, dark humor helps get through this. Sorry if anyone's offended.

There is so much detail work in involved in this kind of stuff but we couldn't just turn away. One of my favorite quotes - one that I use with other people - came back to bite me:
"Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those, who by accidents of time, or place, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you."

After we started working on this, Kristi and I were invited on to National Radio here to discuss what we were doing. We did it because we thought it was a good oppportunity to help establish credibility and also give a free publicity to the hotel owner who has given us so much for free. But at the end of the broadcast, the host of the program gave out OUR HOTEL PHONE NUMBER. Of course we were swamped with calls - some silly (like the Ivorian Naval guy who wanted us to build a kung-fu school for sailors) but of course many of them were just plain tragic. Things that could be fixed with the proper medical attention. Kids with heart problems, major burns that need skin releases, etc. Do-able things that could make a huge difference in thr course of a life.

We had our friends Benedict, Rene and Guy from the local Rotary Club come over and field calls. We're going to set them up with Children's Medical Missions in the US and send them the cases that have been vetted through the Rotary Club.

The hardest thing was when a father showed up here with his son's medical records, hoping that we could help. The kid doesn't speak or walk but doesn't seem to be suffering from anything obviously "fix-able." (Kristi threw me under the bus by telling the front desk that she was in the shower, but Cori would be right down to talk to the visitor.) I had to tell him that I thought his son needed physical therapy (which he was already receiving in-country) and that there wasn't anything I could do. I said that if anything developed that I could help with, he should contact Benedict and Ben would find me. The man was so sad - he was such a good dad obviously and just wanted to help his son. God, I hate this job sometimes. How do people that have to do this all the time survive - like doctors? They must have an incredible capacity for compassion - to be strong enough to tell people things like that though it breaks their own heart.

It is nice that all this has come out of the search for Jean-Louis. That's something to feel very grateful for, despite his passing.

If you want to see photos of some of the kids needing medical care I've met elsewhere in my travels, click here.

Oh Lord, Stuck in Cote d’Ivoire Again.... (from my Africa trucker mix.)

I’m sitting on the roof of the “Manhattan Suites,” a lovely hotel in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire, West Africa trying desperately to find an internet connection. If you’re reading this, that means I was successful.

There’s a war going on – a civil uprising, really. The country has been on-off volatile for four years now and it’s currently on. It wasn’t when I got here last week but it exploded on the morning I was set to leave.

I’m sure I’ll be fine – things are calming down now – but I’ve been sitting in this hotel for five days under a “strong suggestion” by the very concerned US Consul General not to leave the hotel.

Oddly enough, it’s been a GOOD thing.

1) I haven’t been this relaxed in years. I have nowhere to go, nothing much to do and the best reason in the world for not doing it – gee. I’d love to but there’s this war, you see...
2) I actually have gotten more done that I ever would have believed was possible. I’m not sure of the origin of the phrase “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, bring the mountain to Mohammed,” but that is exactly what has happened here this week. I came here to find a little boy named Jean-Louis – and Jean-Louis has ended up finding me.


Finding Jean-Louis

I received the email from Karin Wilson out of the blue. She had read my blog – the one you’re reading now – and had seen my references to an orphanage in Bouake, Cote d'Ivoire. She wanted to know if I still knew anyone in Bouake. I do. Madame Penda Toure, the superstar dedicated incredible woman who runs Centre SAS, an AIDS orphan care center in Bouake, the town currently held by rebels in the North. The story of how I came to know Penda is truly the story of how I came to this work to begin with over three years ago.

Karin’s email caught my imagination – she had been contacted back in ‘97 by a missionary working in Bouake about a kid named Jean-Louis. Jean-Louis was in an orphanage – and was deaf, dumb, and blind. The orphanage had him tied to a bed so that he wouldn’t get out and hurt himself. He was a newborn when he came to the orphanage and somehow they had never gotten around to teaching him how to walk – despite the fact that it seemed he probably had the capacity. Just about the saddest thing you can imagine, right?

Karin adopts special needs kids –and of course her heart went out to him. She lives in the US but she was able to arrange through the missionary to adopt Jean-Louis and began to make plans to bring him to the US. The papers went through the court of Cote d’Ivoire fairly easily but came to a standstill on the US side. Apparently there was some minor bureaucratic idiot at the state-level in North Carolina who didn’t believe in multi-racial adoptions – an idiot whose signature was required to get Jean-Louis’ journey to the US approved.

The papers would sit on her desk until the home-study required by law had expired and then her excuse would be that “the home-study is expired.” This went on FOR YEARS, with Karin fighting it tooth and nail. The missionaries in Bouake visited Jean-Louis every week and kept Karin updated about his condition. When Karin ran low on money for yet ANOTHER homestudy, they paid for it themselves.

But then the war came. The rebels in the North made Bouake their headquarters and the missionaries were evacuated. Communication became almost impossible with the North and Karin lost touch with the orphanage – and Jean-Louis.

Bouake at that time was in terrible condition. Almost everyone in the town of 400,000 evacuated – there was no food, no medicine, no water. (This was when I first met Penda. It's all in the archives to the right, if you're curious. Check the earliest date.)

For years now, Karin has been emailing and calling anyone over here that she can in an attempt to find someone to help her locate her son. And he was her son – the legal paperwork had gone through in Cote d’Ivoire, making Jean-Louis her and her husband’s legal son. In fact, he even had his name changed – from Jean-Louis Coulibaly to Jean-Louis Larry. (Because of a difference in the order Americans and Ivorians list first and surnames on documents, someone in the Cote d’Ivoire legal system had decided Karin and Larry Wilson’s last name was Larry.)

Since I was going to Ghana, which is nearby, I decided to come and see what I could find out. There’s been a tentative peace in Cote d’Ivoire – or there was. I’ve long ago decided that the surest way to cause an insurrection in any given country is for me to make travel arrangements to go there.

As I was in Ghana preparing to come, we heard from the US Embassy that they believed Jean-Louis had died. Since I had his adoption records with me and I hoped to be able to tell Karin more about where he had lived, how he had died, and perhaps find a way to honor him – I decided to come anyway.

I don’t have much time before this connection shuts down, so here’s the bottom line.

I got through the border, made it to Abidjan, and was able to go to the rebel-held north to interview the people at the orphanage. They said Jean-Louis died but I didn’t quite feel I had the full story.

But I would soon, thanks to civil unrest and Google. Before I left the US, I googled Bouake and “La Pouponnierre” (the name of the orphanage) and found a Rotary Club member here in Cote D’Ivoire who had volunteered at the orphanage up until the time he was forced to evacuate from Bouake. His name is Benedict and he has been SOO helpful – considering he got a middle-of-the-night phone call from California from a woman speaking English and asking if he knew “Jean-Louis.”

I didn’t think I was going to have time to meet Benedict since I thought I only had time to go to the orphanage and then leave the next morning to catch my flight out of Accra back to the States. I went to the bus station to go back to Accra – only to find out they double-booked our seats and we couldn’t get on the bus. THANK GOD because within a few minutes we got a phone call from the owner of the hotel that fighting had just broken out. We had a crazy drive through the city back to the hotel, avoiding road blocks and crowds of people. I’m sure the people we’re just all trying to avoid the trouble too but it felt a little scary.

The government loyalists group “The Young Patriots” took over the streets for the next four days, protesting the French and UN presence. I was forced to stay in the hotel – by my own common sense and the urgings of the US Consul General who checked on our well-being several times a day. I’m not French but to a crowd at a roadblock I’m probably close enough.

But because I was forced to stay here, I was able to meet Benedict – and then a score of odd coincidences led a host of different people one–by-one who each held a piece of the puzzle of what happened to Jean-Louis.

It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. More coincidences than I can convey. It was like Jean-Louis was leading us step-by-step to find out what happened to him. Without ever leaving the hotel – not even once – God or the Universe or Grace or whatever you believe in – allowed me to put together the picture of the life and death of this precious kid.

It was truly bizarre – and all without effort on my part. At one point, I was sitting in the hotel restaurant and struck up a conversation with someone who HAPPENED to know the doctor in charge of all the orphanages for Cote d’Ivoire. He volunteered to pick her up (since the white girl couldn’t leave) and as they say “VOILA” – we'd have more information. Or the hotel owner’s cousin just happened to have worked at the orphanage in Bouake back when Jean-Louis was there – and was able to provide a name of someone else who knew him – who lived five minutes from the hotel.

At first, none of it made sense. One person would say he died in 2001, then another would say they had seen him in 2003. One person would say he couldn’t walk – another would say he could. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions – for me and for Karin who’s back in the US following this all via IM and Skype when possible.

But today I was able to meet the woman who is now a refugee here in Abidjan who was the main person who cared for Jean-Louis. It was from her that I was able to get the info that finally made everything else make sense.

As near as I can tell, he fell ill in 2001. He was unable to eat and grew very thin. He began having seizures. Before the war, they took him to the hospital and he passed away there. The hospital buried him. About a year after he died, another boy – one who looked just like Jean-Louis, also deaf and blind, was brought to the orphanage. They called the kid Jean-Louis 2 and even gave him Jean-Louis’ old bed. That’s why there was so much confusion about what happened to Jean-Louis – and when he died.

It’s all so very sad – to think that because of some stupid person’s prejudice this child died when he didn’t have to...

There is a silver lining – his name is Emmanuel. As I said, before the fighting broke out here in Abidjan my stalwart travel partner Kristi and I went to the rebel-held north and met with the director of the orphanage as part of our investigation. When we were there, I walked back into the rooms where Jean-Louis spent his life. I heard a little voice say “Mamman?” and then saw a little hand wave up over the side of a crib.

His name is Emmanuel. He is a hydro baby (which means he has fluid in his brain), he can't walk, and they suspect he has a liver tumor. Not to be overly melodramatic but truthfully if he doesn’t receive care soon, he’ll probably pass away, too. But there are so many things that can be done to save his life - just not here, in a war zone. We’re making arrangements to submit him for free care in the US – and I’m working to bring him back with us. He’ll live with Karin while he receives the treatment and we’ll see how it goes from there. He’ll need a shunt to drain the fluid from his head and who knows what for the liver tumor – but I am confident we can help him. He deserves that much – as did Jean-Louis.


I know I can’t save every kid – but I don’t meet every kid. When my life comes into contact with another – with someone I have the capacity to help – I can’t imagine not using all the resources in my power to find a way to assist. When I walked into that room, he walked into my life. Emmanuel had me at “Mamman.”

I believe in the power we all have to radically affect the lives of others. What we do or don't do - makes a difference. If the missionary had never contacted Karin, if Karin had never adopted Jean-Louis, if Karin had never written me, if I wouldn't have come to Cote d'Ivoire, if I had never would have seen Emmanuel...and you would not be reading this now. What's your part in this chain, my friend? What will this story motivate you to do? Make it something good, something that speaks to your soul.

I’m raising money for the expenses involved in getting him to the US – the medical expenses will be donated I hope - so it’s just for travel, visa application, some clothes to travel in and any of his living expenses I can help defray. I’ve WAY overspent my budget because of the riots shutting down the city and delaying my exit – I don’t even know how I’m going to pay my hotel bill and the endless Schweppes sodas I’ve bought for the various people I’ve met with about Jean-Louis. If you’re interested in helping, I have a paypal account you can send the donation through by clicking on the DONATION button. It’s tax-deductible – just write “for Emmanuel” in the note section.

PS - This is a shout-out to the owner of Manhattan Suites - Bamba Inza. He's a truly remarkable "fixer" who has played a MAJOR part in putting together the Jean-Louis puzzle. He got us into Bouake when everyone told us it couldn't be done, he had the best intel in town on what was up with the civil unrest, and he kept us safe and happy. Now we're just praying he'll give us a discount on our room, since we've been here for a week beyond what we had planned for! But in addition to having a huge heart (he just offered to pay for all shipping and customs on a container of supplies for the orphanage here that we'll put together) - he also has a killer business sense and I'm not sure there's much negotiating to be done here. Picture Donald Trump but African and with much better hair. He was a poor kid from Cote D'Ivoire who made it to the US and has returned to his country to contribute - as a tycoon, which is a good thing. Anyway, if we don't get the discount, we're gonna have to forget the plane or bus tickets and hitch hike to the border. (Just kidding, MOM!) Anyway if you're EVER in Cote D'Ivoire, find Inza - your life will be better for it.

Inner Resilience...the Freeman Kids.

In September, I was in Buduburam Refugee Camp talking to Diana, a grad student doing research. I told her about Strongheart. I said the kind of kids we're looking for are the ones who just make you say 'where did you COME from???' Her eyes lit up and she said "You have to meet Gabriel."

Gabriel is the middle brother of a family of five kids. Their father didn't make itto Camp with them and their mother died tragically after they arrived. Gabriel and his brother Emmanuel have held the family together.

At one point it appeared the family was going to be resettled to Australia. Gabriel is the one who had all of the information about who to talk to, where they needed to go, what papers they needed, etc. He was just 14. (It hasn't come through yet and now we suspect it's a dead issue.)


Like Lovetta, everyone in Camp knows Gabriel. Right now, he's rockin' the only fro in Camp - very fashion-forward. He's always got something unusual going on, very Andre 3000. He looks like a Boondocks character here to me. He has a presence that is pretty obvious to everyone who meets him. His brother Emmanuel is different but also amazing - very strong but quiet, more of a scientist and inner-focused.

Emmanuel isn't in school, which is tragic. The kids don't have the money to pay Emmanuel's high school fees. My favorite Emmanuel story is when he went to Diana to ask if she could please take him somewhere to see a microscope. He loves science and is intensely curious about all the things he's read about but never seen. Like a microscope. I think our friend Ben is going to help with Emmanuel's school fees, which is a miracle to these kids.

Their youngest sister Charity is one of my favorite kids in Camp. I just plain love her.

Emmanuel!

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LOVETTA

We just saw Lovetta (our first Strongheart Fellow) and the poor kid has malaria. Her father hasn't had enough money for the malaria medicine - or to see the doctor. This is what gets me - someone who could potentially do so much with her life faces a decent shot of dying from malaria because her family doesn't have the money for the ten or so pills she needs to get over it. Ten pills. Less than five dollars. I know that's just a reality for most of the world but it still gets me.

Kristi and I spent the day with Herran, Tracey, Ben, and Patrick in Buduburam Refugee Camp showing them around.

Herran is the producer for ABC News, Ben & Patrick are philanthropists interested in learning more about Strongheart. Kristi and Tracey are my Strongheart colleagues.

They are all such great troopers - it was boiling hot and a completely foreign experience but they took it all in stride. I'm so impressed with Ben and Patrick stepping up and coming to Africa to see first-hand how they can best help.

Ben's the guy in blue, Tracey's the chic blonde, Herran's the model-esque producer, Kristi's the one who's always holding a kid's hand, and Patrick is the one who looks like a CIA agent. Lovetta was feeling much better in these pics.

Some of my favorite shots of our team in Buduburam Refugee Camp and visiting the beach in Accra:

Passport Health Saves My Life...


Not only has Rayann Aziz of Passport Health always made sure I have a full complement of shots and malaria med - but she has also donated THOUSANDS of doses of vaccine for me to take to resource poor areas AND she was part of the Ten Days Team that went to Camp to build the school.

This is how I began this trip from LA to Africa. With a broken shoe. It snapped when I was walking through security at LAX. I'm going to assume a broken shoe means good luck.

I flew Virgin Air to Heathrow - which rocks. I LOVE this airline. They were kind enough to find a pair of very posh socks for me to wear since my shoe was shot. Here's a travel tip: it's ACTUALLY faster and MUCH more fun to slide down the marble and tile floors at Heathrow to get from one gate to the next. I was a hazard to others, but I've never had such a good time changing terminals.

I did buy some over-priced flip-flops at the airport because while I'll slide around London, I'd prefer to be fully shod when I hit Africa. Customs may not be so keen on the Shoeless American.

Three great developments:

1) Airline tickets. After hours and hours of frustration over the last week trying to get decent tickets that don't involve connecting from LA to Atlanta to Dubai to Mumbai to Paris to Ghana for a gazillion dollars - I awoke this morning and everything fell into place. The connections are good, the price is within reason and the dates work. I had to go to the airport during the height of holiday travel to pay for the tickets at the counter (because of concern of credit cards being used to buy tickets to Africa) - but even that turned out to be easy.

2) Just before I left to get the tickets, I finally got through to someone I met last time I was in Ghana - who happens to run a new airline called Ghana International Airways. I had been trying to call him for days and finally got through - which goes to show you, always make that one last call. I'm going to send him a proposal to try to get my ticket donated from London to Ghana (they don't fly to the US yet). If they approve it, I'll save the non-refundable but still changeable British Air tickets for another trip.

3) Faridah, the Nigerian girl I helped bring here, had brain surgery today. 12 hours. It turned out that the tumor was as big as a grapefruit, when they thought it was much smaller. She's doing very well - she woke up and can move all her arms and legs, which is a great sign.

A good development: I helped bring a little girl named Farida over to the US for brain surgery yesterday. She's the niece of one of my dearest and best friends in Africa, a doctor named Dr. Chris Isichei. There are lots of posts on my blog about Dr. Chris, but suffice to say he's one of the most compassionate people on this planet. He's like the black, male Mother Theresa. I love him and would do anything I could to help him. It's so frustrating that Dr. Chris - an amazing doctor - and his equally incredible surgeon wife Dr. Mercy - do so much to help so many people, but they couldn't provide medical care for their own niece because of the lack of facilities in their home country.

Farida and her mother are now at Rainbow Children's Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio under the care of the very generous Dr. Alan Cohen. Her surgery is tomorrow. She's having a really large brain tumor removed. She's decorated her room at the hospital with letters and pictures drawn by her classmates and best friends. They raised money for her airfare to help get her here. The saddest thing is that many of them died in the recent air plane crash in Nigeria - over 60 children from Farida's school were on the plane that crashed ten days ago, returning home from their boarding school for the holidays.

Brain tumors and plane crashes and bears, oh my. I sound like Debbi Downer, that Rachel Dratch character. But really, there are so many rewards that come with doing this work. You've just got to be willing to take the exposure to tragedy that comes with it. You take the good, you take the bad, you take it all....Yes, I did just quote the Facts of Life theme song...

Evaline's Today Show piece aired this morning. I really liked it - I only wish they had talked about The Name Campaign. It's the way people who were moved by her story can actually have a part in ending the conflict in Uganda.

Evaline's surgery went well!! It took a lot longer than expected - seven hours instead of the four they had anticipated. But she's resting at the hospital with her host families taking shifts staying with her.

On Saturday morning on NBC, the Today Show Weekend Edition is airing a segment about her. Watch for it! 7-9 am Eastern, 5-7 am Pacific. (Yeah, I know - yikes! But that's what Tivo is for...)

Evaline is now in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She's adjusting well - apparently LOVES Hitch and watches it every day. She's announced to anyone who will listen that he's her husband.

Her surgery is set for next week. I'll keep you posted.