From A in Israel, where are you now? by me

I was called to translate for A., a Sudanese refugee.

Palestinian Arabic is very different than Sudanese Arabic, but the dialects are similar. Oblivious to his culture, his understanding of who I was, I introduced myself, constanlty checking for his facial expressions. Did he understand me? Five minutes of his answers mounted to a few minutes of my translation into English. He barely responded to me and stared straight ahead at the walls. He was dressed in a jogging suit, sitting outside in the heat of beer sheva. Wasn't he a little bit hot?
I nodded, as I let A. finish his meal. I did not shake hands with him when I introduced myself; was it acceptable for me to shake his hand? As he held the fork to eat, I wondered if his skin infection on his hand was contagious. I sat a little further from where he was, watching him eat some meat and rice. He offered me the fruits on the table. Martin, the man A. is staying with, was concerned for A's medical condition. "He is itching. He is always sleepy. He does not want to be in the sun. We need to know about his medical condition."

The task of why I was called began, and the skills of the medical interview I learned my first two years of medical school were used. Does the skin rash hurt? When did it start? How long has been for? What makes it worse? better? Do you have any other pains or aches? Did you get previous treatment? Do you have any kind of papers with you that I can take a look at? A. took several trips to his room, each time producing a different paper, as the interview progressed. When he stood up for the last trip to his room, I glanced at his feet. They were swollen. His legs and arms were very thin, and he had an enlarged belly. A refugee admited to Israel in June, said the paper published by the UN. His official documents expire in three months.

The hospital discharge report explained that he has anemia, hypolabunemia and psiorasis. He was briefly treated for psiorasis only and discharged prematurely, and sent away with some weak steroids to apply on the lesions. After having studied about chronic and terminal diseases that cannot be cured, I was disturbed to see A. who could be helped and even cured from anemia and hypoalbunemia. He continued to explain to me that he ran away with his family from south Sudan, to Khartum where he worked and saved up some money. He sent his family back to go through Kenya to reach south Sudan again. He was going to catch up with them after he saved up some more money.

However, the borders of Kenya were closed and his attempt to go through Ethiopia failed as they, too, closed their border. He, then, left to Egypt where he stayed seven years, working in a superamarket and there his skin condition began. "If you are sick, you dont want to go to hospital in Egypt. They steal your organs," he explained, when I asked him if he was happy to be here. He was happy with the hospital treatment that he recieved here, for they did not steal his organs. More phone calls to doctors followed my interview of A.

Sadly, most of the doctors refused to examine him. Finally, a dermatologist granted us 30 minutes of his time. As he took his shirt off to be examined, the dermatologist explained that now he has exfoliative psiorasis, a progression of psiorasis. "Would you like some water?" I asked A." No, the water is too cold. The room is too cold," he answered. "It is becase of his hypoalbunemia. He is not able to maintain his temperature," explained the dermatologist.

We left with a referal paper to the hospital, and the hope that he will be admited and cured from some medical conditions induced by malnurtient. Somewhere accross many borders from here, A. has a wife and two children that I never felt the courage to ask him about. He still stares at the wall when I go visit him. Is he thinking about his children, wife and the rest of his family? This letter is meant for them: A. is alive and is being taken care of, here in Israel. Where are you now? Have you made it back to south Sudan? Hope that you are well.