H.R.H.

Christianna was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Some of the women read in the light of their battery-operated lamps. Others slept. They had taken her to the bathroom outside, and one of them had stayed with her, because she was still afraid of snakes, but nothing terrible had happened. It was a rudimentary outdoor affair that in essence was nothing more than a hole in the ground with a seat over it, a shovel, and a big bag of lime. That was going to take some getting used to, Christianna thought to herself with a small shudder, but one did what one had to. She suspected she'd get used to it in time. She was sound asleep before any of the others, some of whom talked in quiet whispers, and said they liked her. She seemed like a very sweet girl, and would be a good addition to the team. They had the feeling she came from a good family, probably from money. She was well spoken, discreet, polite, and spoke several languages fluently, but she was also without artifice or pretension and seemed extremely straightforward and natural, and they liked that about her.

Laure shrugged as she listened and said nothing. Mary wondered if she was jealous, since they were about the same age, but she wasn't close to the others in the camp either. Laure was the only squeaky wheel in the group, and seemed unhappy most of the time. She was going home in two months, according to plan. She was one of those rare people who hadn't fallen in love with Africa, neither the continent nor the people, and hadn't enjoyed much or anything about it. She had brought her problems and sorrows with her. Mary knew from Laure's aunt, Marque, that she had been jilted nearly at the altar, two days before her wedding, and her fiancé had run off with her best friend and married her. Laure had been miserable ever since, and still was, and even the distraction of working there hadn't helped her much. She was going back to working at UNICEF in Geneva, and seemed to have benefited little from the extraordinary experience she'd had here. She was surprisingly cynical, and even bitter, for someone so young.

Fiona came in at four in the morning, and the others were all asleep by then. She had delivered two babies that night, and everything had gone well. She got into her bed, and was asleep within minutes. At six o'clock, their alarm clocks started going off, and the women began to stir. They were all good humored when they got up, and headed to the shower together, in their bathrobes, with their towels over their arms. Fiona was up and on her feet with the rest of them, and in good humor, after two hours of sleep. She was used to it, and did it often. She almost never slept in, unless she'd had an exceptionally rough night. But even then, she was usually in good spirits. She loved to sing old Gaelic songs in the shower at the top of her lungs, just to annoy them, and they always groaned and told her how awful her voice was. She loved it. She was the camp clown.

Christianna was dressed and in the dining tent promptly at six-thirty. She ate a hearty breakfast of porridge and eggs, with a bowl of berries that had been grown in the camp. She drank an enormous glass of orange juice and smiled at Max and Sam when they walked in. Breakfast was quick since everyone was busy, and by seven o'clock everyone was doing their jobs and hard at work. Christianna saw Max leave in an old car shortly after that, and Samuel told her quietly that he was going into Senafe, to the post office, to call her father and report in. She nodded, and as directed, followed Mary into the main hut, where the women and children with AIDS were treated and housed.

Mary explained to Christianna, as Geoff had during the bus trip, that they gave pregnant women with AIDS a single dose of the drug nevirapine four hours before delivery, and the baby a small dose during the first few days after its birth. In most cases, that reduced the risk of AIDS by fifty percent, according to studies. The real problem came when they had to convince the mothers to feed their babies formula, not by breast. If they breast-fed their babies, they almost inevitably gave them AIDS, but formula was a foreign concept to them, and they were suspicious of it. Even if the volunteers gave them formula at the center to take home with them, often they didn't use it, sold it, or traded it for other things they needed more. It was an uphill battle, Mary said. And AIDS education for prevention of the disease was an important part of what they did. She had been thinking that Christianna might be good at that. She had a pleasant, gentle way that the women she stopped and spoke to seemed to like, as Mary watched her and translated for her, as needed, until she learned the local dialects. She had an almost professional way of going quietly from bed to bed, saying a few words, offering comfort, and dealing with the African women with warmth, kindness, compassion, and respect.