I'm not afraid of IED's, bullets, mortars.

I swung from one place to the next, sometimes backward, sometimes forward, capitalizing on my own momentum, knowing that at some point my arms—or, more accurately, my quivering bank balance, accessed through foreign ATMs—would give out, and I’d fall to the ground.

Contemplating Christmas when you are isolated and far from home brings its own unique pain.

Women in Somalia face almost unimaginable oppression.

I don't only long for the thrill of being in the middle of a war, I must understand it; I must make other people understand.

I've realized that the world is, in essence, full of banana peels - loaded with things that may unwittingly trip an internal wire in my mind, opening a floodgate of fears without warning.

Christmas was the one time of year when my brothers surfaced at home, when my parents and grandparents congregated to eat my mother's roast turkey.