H.R.H. (11 page)

Geoff held a hand out to her, in spite of her lofty position, to steady her as she got out of the bus onto uneven ground. Christianna smiled at him, and then glanced at the others shyly, as Samuel and Max came out of the bus carrying their bags. Christianna looked just rumpled and sloppy enough after the long trip not to stand out, as one by one the waiting band of workers approached.

Geoff introduced the older woman first. Her name was Mary Walker, and as the stethoscope suggested she was a physician. She was British, and the head of their program that dealt with AIDS. She had white hair hanging in a long braid down her back, a heavily lined smiling face, and piercing blue eyes. She reminded Christianna instantly of Marque. She shook Christianna's hand with a strong, sure handshake of her own and welcomed her warmly to the camp. There were two other women standing beside her, one a pretty young Irish girl with curly black hair and green eyes. She was a midwife, and drove all over Debub, in the outlying areas, delivering babies, and bringing them, or their mothers, back to the camp when they were sick. Next to her was a young American woman, who, like Geoff, had grown up in Capetown. She had gone to college in the States, but missed Africa too much, as they all did when they left.

And once they met, and he had told her about the place where he was working, she had agreed to join Geoff here. Her name was Maggie, and Christianna rapidly realized, as Geoff put an arm around her once she approached, that Maggie and Geoff were romantically involved. Maggie was a nurse. She gave Christianna a warm hug of welcome. The Irish girl introduced herself as Fiona with a broad, mischievous grin. She was quick to shake Christianna's hand and welcome her.

The four men who were standing around introduced themselves in rapid succession. Two were German, one was French, and the fourth was Swiss, and all appeared to be somewhere in their thirties: Klaus, Ernst, Didier, and Karl. And finally, the tall dark-haired young woman with the child in her arms came forward and shook hands with Christianna and the two men. She had beautiful eyes and a serious face. Her name was Laure, and she was French. She seemed much more reserved than the others, and Christianna wondered if she was shy. She spoke to her in French, but even then the tall beautiful young woman didn't warm up much. Her attitude bordered on hostile. Geoff explained that she had been with UNICEF for several years, and had been in Senafe with them for several months. Geoff and Mary were the only doctors in the group, Fiona the only midwife, Maggie the only nurse. The others were all benevolent, caring, hardworking, conscientious people who had come to Senafe to make a difference, in whatever way they could, like Christianna herself.

The camp was actually on the outskirts of Senafe, in the subzone of Debub, in the north, near the Ethiopian border, which would have been worrisome in the years before the truce, but no longer was. It was peaceful here now, and fairly remote. As Christianna continued to look around, she was struck by the beauty of the African women who were standing just beyond the group, smiling shyly, in colorful costumes, with lots of jewelry in their hair, on their ears, and around their necks. There were six more residents working at the center, four women and two men, all of whom were talking to women or children in the huts, and hadn't been able to come out and greet the new arrivals. But there was an ever-growing group of exotically dressed African women who stood staring and smiling at the threesome that had just gotten off the bus.

The African women who stood watching them were wearing the most exotic costumes Christianna had ever seen. They had tightly braided hair in tiny rows strung with beads and jewels that hung on their faces. They were heavily adorned, and draped in interesting fabrics, some of them woven with gold or metallic threads. Some of the women were fully covered, and others stood watching her with bare breasts. Their elaborate costumes and efforts to adorn themselves were in sharp contrast to the plain, unattractive clothes worn by the Western workers, who looked anything but sexy or even attractive in their T-shirts, shorts, jeans, and hiking boots. Geoff explained to her that there were nine ethnic groups or tribes, in Eritrea, the Tigrinya, Rashaida, Afar, Tigre, Kunama, Saho, Nara, Bilen, and Hedareb, and she was struck almost immediately by the warmth of the African women's smiles. One of them came up and embraced her, explained that she was from Ghana, and said her name was Akuba, and proudly told Christianna that she was a Red Cross volunteer. Christianna also met one of the African men who helped them at the center, whose name was Yaw. It was a lot of information to absorb all at once, a lot of people, a brand-new place, an entirely different culture, a whole new life, an unfamiliar job. Christianna felt overwhelmed as she looked around, and tried to take it all in. It would have been almost impossible to explain to anyone what a feast it was to the senses, how exciting it was, or how gentle and sweet the Africans seemed. Their faces were faintly similar to Ethiopians, they definitely looked related in spite of the hatred and long history of warfare between them. A fifth of Eritrea's population had fled the country, during those battles, before the truce five years before. But none of the faces Christianna saw around her appeared embittered. On the contrary, the people were beautiful, and seemed very warm.

“You must be exhausted,” Geoff interrupted the many introductions. He could see that she was tired, and they had been driving for nearly five hours. She had come to the farthest reaches of the world. But Christianna had never been happier, and like a child at a birthday party, she wanted to drink it all in.

“I'm fine,” she said gamely, chatting for a moment first with Akuba, and then speaking to the Eritrean women, and finally with the people she would be working with for the next months. She could hardly wait to get to know them, and to start work herself.

“Come on,” Fiona said with a broad smile. “Allow me to escort you to the Ritz.” She pointed to one of the large tents on one side of the cluster of huts, where they worked. They lived in the tents, the women on one side, the men on the other, and for those who wished to combine forces like Maggie and Geoff, they had separate, smaller tents. The men's tent was referred to as the George V, after the illustrious hotel in Paris, and the women's tent was the Ritz.

Christianna took her valise from Samuel, and he looked instantly unhappy about it. He didn't like her going off alone, before he and Max had assessed the place, and they hadn't had time to yet. She gave him a nod and a smile, firmly took the bag from his hand, and set off after Fiona. Real life had begun.

The tent Fiona took her to was larger than Christianna had expected, and airier than it looked from the outside. It was a heavy canvas tent they had bought from the military, they had put a wooden floor in it, and there were eight cots, one of which had been unoccupied since Maggie moved out to live in a separate tent with Geoff. And with the new arrivals, there would be eight men in the men's tent. The Africans who worked for them at the center lived in huts they built themselves. And Maggie and Geoff had their own tent, which Geoff had bought himself.

Fiona walked Christianna over to the far corner. There was a small night table with a drawer in it next to her cot, with a battery-operated lamp, and there was a battered military-surplus footlocker at the foot of the bed.

“That's your closet,” Fiona said with a burst of laughter. “Don't ask me why, but I came here with a full wardrobe six months ago. I finally sent it all back. I haven't worn anything but jeans and shorts since I got here. Even if we go into Senafe for dinner, which we don't do often, no one gets dressed up.” Christianna had worn jeans, a long-sleeved white T-shirt, an old denim jacket she had bought in a thrift shop in Berkeley, and running shoes, which had been comfortable for the trip. But in spite of that, there was something stylish about her. She had worn no jewelry other than her family signet ring and a tiny pair of silver earrings. The African women she had just met were wearing far more jewelry than she. Christianna had done everything she could to look plain. She learned a few minutes later that Fiona was thirty, although she looked fifteen. Christianna had incorrectly guessed that they were the same age. She said that Laure, the tall dark-haired girl, was twenty-three. Almost everyone else was in their thirties, except Klaus and Didier. And she said they were a great team.

Christianna sat on her cot as she listened to her, and a moment later Fiona flopped down onto the cot, too, like the seasoned girl at boarding school, welcoming the new girl as she came in. It was all a little daunting at first, and although Christianna had been desperate to come here, she had to admit that she was still feeling more than a little overwhelmed, with culture shock, if nothing else.

“What are your two friends like?” Fiona asked her with a giggle. She admitted that she and Ernst had gone out to dinner a few times, but in the end they had decided not to pursue a romance, and had wound up friends. It was a lot easier to do that here. Geoff and Maggie were rare. Most of the time the entire group preferred the camaraderie of being coworkers, without complicating it with romance, but now and then it happened. They also knew that sooner or later most people would move on. They rarely stayed for more than a year, and things changed when you went back. “So tell me about Sam and Max,” Fiona persisted, and Christianna laughed. Technically, for the next six months or year in East Africa with her, they were on duty, and not supposed to indulge in that sort of thing. But she certainly wouldn't have objected or told anyone if either or both of them had a fling, or even a serious romance. It was a long time for them to be abstinent otherwise. They were both young men, after all. And they could keep an eye on her, as they were assigned to do, and still manage to have some fun, too. Christianna was more than willing to turn a blind eye. “They're both really nice men. Reliable, conscientious, responsible, honest, trustworthy, hardworking, kind.” She listed their many virtues as Fiona laughed. She looked like a dark-haired elf sitting on Christianna's cot, with dancing green eyes. They seemed and felt like two kids, and Christianna hoped they'd be friends, despite the difference in their ages. Laure, who was her own age, didn't appear nearly as friendly, and had barely said a word to her when they met. In fact, she had glared at her as soon as Christianna got off the bus. She had no idea why. Everyone else in the camp had been lovely to her.

“That sounds like a job reference,” Fiona teased her, more accurate than she knew or than Christianna would admit. “I mean what are they like? They're gor-geous—are they nice guys?”

“Very. Samuel used to be an Israeli commando. He's amazing with weapons.” She realized she had slipped again, and reminded herself to be more careful in future. She was tired after the trip.

“That sounds scary, unless we have another Ethiopian war, in that case he might come in handy. I assume they're not married, or they wouldn't be here.” Although she knew Mary Walker had been at first. She had come for a ninety-day tour of duty, had never gone back, and got divorced. She loved East Africa and its people too much to leave it. She was the only doctor on the team other than Geoff, and she specialized in AIDS. She had a passion for the people she took care of, more so than her marriage, which she realized once she got there had been dead for years, so she stayed. “Do they have girlfriends at home?” Fiona inquired, and Christianna shook her head and then hesitated.

“I don't think so. I never asked.” Even she had to admit, it sounded odd, if they were claiming to be friends. The problem was that it was a charade, and Christianna didn't want to get caught.

“How do you know them?” Fiona asked, hopping onto her own bed like an elf. It was the one next to Christianna's. They could whisper secrets at night like young girls.

“Actually I've known them for a long time. They work for my father.” She had finally been honest, which was something at least. “When I told them I was coming here, they both volunteered to come, too.” And had subsequently been assigned the job, which of course she couldn't say. “We went to Russia together, during the hostage crisis in Digora. The woman who was running the Red Cross station there was remarkable. I fell in love with her and what she was doing. I decided after that to come here, and so did they.” Christianna's face grew serious and sad. “I think that night changed a lot of things for all three of us. So here we are.” She smiled at her new friend. She liked Fiona a lot. Everyone in the camp did. She was a warm, easy, open person, and worked tirelessly at her job, which she said she loved. Like many of the others, she was in love with Africa, too. It was a magical place, and addictive once it got into your blood.

“What was the woman's name?” she asked with interest.

“Her name is Marque.”

“Of course. I know her too. Everyone does. She comes here sometimes. She is Laure's aunt, that's why she's here. Laure had some sort of broken engagement, or failed marriage or something. She never talks about it. But the rumor is she came here to recover. I'm not entirely sure she loves it, or maybe she's just unhappy. That sort of thing is hard. I was engaged once, too”— she giggled again—“for about ten minutes. To a terrible man. I ran off to Spain for a year to get rid of him, and he married someone else. Terrible bloke. He drank.” Christianna smiled and tried to look sympathetic. It was a lot of information to digest at once, and she was so jet-lagged and tired, she was afraid that she would inadvertently say something she shouldn't that would give her away, that she was a princess and lived in a palace. The thought of doing that made her shudder. She didn't want any of that infringing on her life here, and hoped it wouldn't. It shouldn't happen if she was careful. She just had to be aware of what she said at first until she got used to her new life.

“Do you have a boyfriend at home?” Fiona asked her then with interest.

“No, I don't. I just finished college in the States in June. I've been hanging around home since then, and then I came here.”

“What sort of work do you want to do when you go back? Medicine? I love midwifery myself—maybe you should come out with me and have a look. It blows me away every time to see a new life come into the world. It's truly a miracle, and always exciting, even though once in a while it's sad, when something goes really wrong. It happens. But most of the time it's happy.”