Chelsea Clinton Speaks Out -- African Teens Hear About The Lives Of Their Counterparts In The U.S.A.

ARUSHA, Tanzania - The words had all the familiar ring of a presidential sermon, the plaintive concern about "hopelessness and cynicism" in modern American society followed by a spirited testimonial to the individual's capacity to rise above the forces of despair.

But the preacher in this case wasn't Bill Clinton. It was Chelsea.

The first daughter emerged on the public stage yesterday in a way she never has before.

Accompanying mother Hillary Rodham Clinton on a two-week tour of Africa, Chelsea was invited to answer questions from a group of local teenagers and had an eloquent discourse on the troubles in her home nation.

"We have big problems with violence in our country, in all spectrums," she told her African peers during a brief meeting in an airport building in this East African city. "We have a big problem with drugs and people not thinking they have a future. There's a lot of hopelessness."

Asked by a young girl what was being done about these issues in the United States, Chelsea talked first about efforts by parents and teachers.

"But," she said, "I think with our problems with hopelessness and cynicism that (the solution) ultimately has to come from the young people themselves. I think that's something we have to work on. We've got to realize we are the future and we make of our future what we make of it, and ultimately we have to do it for ourselves."

Hillary Clinton was meeting with a group of teenage girls who had scaled Mount Kilimanjaro, led by a Peace Corps volunteer. The first lady shocked everyone in the room - including, as it turns out, herself - by turning to her daughter and suggesting she might have something to say.

"She has also climbed mountains and been much more adventurous than her mother," Mrs. Clinton said. "So I was going to see if she has any questions, or if she has anything she wants to talk with you about. She is more your age, and understands what it took to train for your climb."

Chelsea was curious about the girls who climbed Kilimanjaro on a six-day adventure. On the plane here, she had read a lengthy article about their conquest.

The girls said the 19,340-foot mountain towers over their school. Their economics teacher, Trevor Murphy, encouraged them to train hard and climb it.

So they did - without much equipment, very little food and scoffing remarks in their ears: "African women are too weak for the toils of Kilimanjaro."

"We made it, we silenced the critics," they said in a presentation. "We have proved to others and to ourselves that African women are capable of doing anything."

The girls from Weru Weru wanted to know: Are there more opportunities for young women in America than there are in Tanzania?

Yes, Chelsea said. "But I also think there are many of the same problems. I think that women probably don't feel as confident as men in school, and later in their lives."

That Chelsea responded like a seasoned pro, though, was less of a surprise to those who know her. After all, her father has been campaigning for or holding elective office from the day she was born.

And as she has come of age in her own right, the 17-year-old high-school senior has quietly impressed many in Washington with her maturity, poise and down-to-earth quality.

She has already been accepted by Harvard University and probably will have replies from some of the five other schools she applied to when she returns from Africa on Sunday.

She has insisted to her mother and to her friends on the first lady's staff that she has not decided what college she will attend because she does not yet know where she will be accepted, though it seems unlikely she will be turned down anywhere she wants to go.

A final decision likely will wait until May, after another tour of campuses.

Georgetown, her father's alma mater and the you-can-live-at-home suggestion of her parents, didn't make Chelsea's final cut. Neither did her mother's school, Wellesley College.

Aides say the suspense is killing her parents, who are dreading her eventual departure this fall no matter where she ends up.

"There's no doubt about it," said Melanne Verveer, the first lady's deputy chief of staff. "Hillary has always said she's often asked about all these difficult experiences and there's no more difficult experience for her and the president than Chelsea leaving for college."

This, then, has been a special, and sometimes melancholy, trip for them, one final spring break for mother and daughter before Chelsea leaves home.

On the flight out from Washington, they settled in to watch "Out of Africa" together and then proceeded to some of the continent's most notable sites, including Senegal's slave house, South Africa's infamous Robben Island prison and Zimbabwe's postcard-perfect Victoria Falls.

Yesterday, they visited a Masai village in Tanzania and both were given ushangaa - stiff, Frisbee-like neck ornaments that usually are a symbol that a young woman has been circumcised and is either married or ready for marriage.

Mother and daughter graciously put them on without commenting on their meaning.

While Mrs. Clinton earnestly sits through long round-table discussions with local leaders, Chelsea usually has ventured out on her own, taking in a jazz club or a horseback ride or a museum tour, usually with her gal-pal Capricia Marshall, one of the first lady's young and energetic assistants.

The White House has relentlessly guarded Chelsea's privacy over the past four years, and with few exceptions media organizations have respected that. Yet on the cusp of adulthood, Chelsea seems increasingly comfortable in the spotlight.

This is the third mother-daughter overseas jaunt, following trips to Bosnia and South Asia, and with each one Chelsea comes into clearer focus in the public eye.

Information from Associated Press is included in this report.