Can celebrities really get results?
Different stars take on different roles when helping out in Africa, but assessing the long-term improvements isn't easy.
from the August 23, 2007 edition
Page 4 of 4
But by and large, the foundation's efforts are well received. Clinton, says Doctors Without Borders' adviser Mr. Spar, is one of the most helpful celebrities on the continent. He uses his clout to "bring together groups who might otherwise not meet, which can be enormously important in helping to develop efficiencies, reduce reinvention of similar solutions, and even to broker negotiations."
On the ground, the average African finds hope in the high-profile attention. Innocent Richard, who hawks a collection of three-inch women's heels outside the luxury hotel where Clinton stays in Arusha, Tanzania, boasts that he managed to catch a glimpse of the man as he was whisked through the back entrance. "This is the president's second visit to Arusha, and both times I have seen him. I love him. I feel he is going to change things ... kidogo," says Mr. Richard, using the Swahili word for "a little." "And that is so wonderful," he adds.
Farewell photo ops
On the last day of the Africa journey, Clinton takes his entire entourage on safari. His wife and daughter had been to Tanzania's Ngorongoro crater when they visited Africa in 1997 and have been raving about it ever since. So, clearly, he wants to see it, too. Lions, hippos, elephants. A rhino and a leopard. The group emerges from the 2,000-foot-deep crater with a 100 square-mile floor, dusty, overexhausted, and overexcited.
The former president poses with the Safari guides. Snap. He poses again with the drivers. Snap. Snap. Again with the traditional Masai dancers and yet again with the white-aproned chefs, who have made a late-afternoon tea. Some Dutch tourists want a photo, too. No problem! "Just amazing, all of this, isn't it?" Clinton beams. "This has been one of the best days of my life!"
The sun is setting, and it's time to go back to the US. Conversation turns to his wife's performance at the YouTube democratic debate the previous night and then somehow segues to the upcoming refueling stop in Spain. Maybe, Clinton hopes, there will be time to speed into Madrid for some snacks at his favorite tapas bar.
Soon, the wealthy donor friends, aides, assistants, press, press handlers, doctor, and photographer are in their leather-cushioned airplane seats. The Zambian masks are loaded. The South Africa wood carvings are carefully hauled up. The plane doors close. And they disappear into the night sky.
"We should not have unrealistic expectations," says Clinton, at the conclusion of the interview in Zambia. "It's not easy to change societies ... but still, all of us can change lives."
"Celebrities are like other people who do this ... some of them will stay at it for a lifetime, some of them will quit. Real life will intrude on them just as it does on the rest of us. They will have children and want to spend more time with them ... or they will get bored or get sick. But on balance, these high-visibility, high-profile movie stars are part of a global movement of giving, which is a function of our interdependence."
The allotted time for the interview is up, and an aide is hemming and hawing. "It's a part of the zeitgeist," the former president says, paying no heed to the advancing hour, enthused by his own ideas and lost in his own words. "It's where we are at this moment in human history. It is where I am."





















