Where the Desert Meets the Sea

by Werner Sonne

Hana wondered how many of her Arab coworkers were staying home again today. First it had only been two, then more stopped showing up for work every week. Now only a few dared make their way up Mount Scopus. The access roads passed through Arab neighborhoods, and the cars driving from there up the steep hill to Hadassah Hospital kept getting fired upon. The number of Arab patients had severely decreased as well. Hana felt dizzy. She considered how far it was to the nearest toilet. She’d already thrown up once at home. She considered whether to take Nurse Sarah into her confidence but decided against it. So far, she’d kept it a secret from David as well. In the beginning she wasn’t sure, but now she knew for certain. She had gone over the symptoms so many times in her training; she had advised countless Bedouin women when they’d come into the clinic with the same signs. She would never be able to go back now, not to Muslim Deir Yassin. How was she supposed to tell her mother? After all, she was the one who’d always been against her getting trained in the Jewish hospital, who’d always warned her about getting involved in such work. And about having daily contact with Jewish doctors.

after attacks on hospital, many of her arab coworkers were reluctant to come to hospital.