Accounts of peaceful coexistence between Muslims and Christians. A journey to Jordan’s poorest province, to a hospital run by the Comboni missionaries.
Christian and Muslim doctors working side by side in the hospital’s wards, united by a common commitment to healing wounded humans. We are in Karak, Jordan, a town that is home to 60,000 people, situated in the country’s poorest province, 160 kilometres south of Amman. This place, where Christians make up 3 per cent of the population, is also home to the “Italian Hospital”, a non-profit institution founded by ANSMI (National Association for Assistance to Italian Missionaries) in 1935 and since then run by the Comboni missionaries. To keep it going, they rely on donations from associations, parishes and individual benefactors.
The history of this hospital – where last year more than 22,000 people were offered assistance – reveals the strong alliance, wonderful and industrious complicity that forms between humans when they do not give in to evil and fight against sickness and suffering.
The poor people’s hospital
“Our hospital is now part of this city’s history,” says its 65-year-old director Sister Adele Brambilla, who works alongside five other nuns. “We feel respected by the Muslim religious authorities whom we have a good relationship with and the people trust us and the professionalism of our staff.”
Eighty people and eight doctors (six Muslims and two Christians) work in this hospital full time. In addition to this, there are 53 specialists who are present on different days of the week and act as external consultants: 12 of them are Christian and 41 Muslim. One of them is Muslim surgeon Awadh Dmour, married and father of six. He says the following about his experience working at the hospital: “I really like working here, both because I was born in this area so I have the chance to help my people and because this is a top class healthcare facility, with an excellent reputation, close-knit staff and it offers quality treatments, whilst guaranteeing that everyone receives assistance, especially the poor.”
A common mission
The relationship between Christian and Muslim health workers is very good: “there is a climate of great respect and familiarity, so we even celebrate our respective religious feasts together. We share each other’s joys, hopes and hardships but most importantly, we all work with a sense of dedication as we are all aware we have a common mission: to treat everyone, no matter what their ethnicity or religion, with a special attention to the poor. The principle of healing, which is what inspired the establishment of this hospital, is what motivates each and every one of us.” Dr. Awadh seconds him: “I think it is very important, vital in fact, for Christian and Muslim doctors to work together looking after the suffering. There is a great spirit of collaboration between us, we do not distinguish between Christians and Muslims, nor are there any prejudices or obstacles of the sort. We support each other and work well as a team; this hospital is like a family to me.”
Syrian refugees
Most Christian and Muslim patients are from middle to lower class backgrounds but there are also many who are very poor and cannot access the government hospital in the city. Then there are the refugees. Over the decades, the hospital first admitted Palestinians, the Iraqis. In more recent times, the hospital has been collaborating with Caritas Jordan and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) to offer assistance to Syrian refugees. Many come to this area to try to rebuild their lives having abandoned the camps set up in northern Jordan: “these are families who have lost everything, they are very poor and are in search of work,” says Sister Adele. “They often choose to live together in miserable conditions: sometimes there are as many as 15 people living in 3-room apartments. Many others, Christian and Muslim refugees arrive directly from Syria, having endured painstaking journeys: and they are exhausted. One day, a woman who was nine months pregnant arrived here: she had fled Homs where she lived and had made in to Aleppo before fleeing to another Syrian city and from there she crossed the border to get to Karak. When we admitted her she has worn out. I asked her why she embarked on that terrible journey given her conditions and she answered plainly: ‘so that I could give birth to my child in a safe place’.”
The consequences of war
On top of the numerous illnesses, there are also many wounded souls: “all the horror and pain they have experienced can be seen in their eyes,” says Sister Adele. “Children especially are under shock: I still remember one little girl who suddenly lost all her hair out of fright. What is deeply demoralising adults is the state of precariousness and uncertainty they are forced to live in: they have no idea what is going to happen to them or whether they will ever be able to return to their homeland.”
Dr. Awadh adds: “I feel great compassion towards them; as a doctor I am very concerned about their health because it is hard for them to gain access to medical care, which people have to pay for if they are not insured: when people get sick they often turn to the local NGOs for help in covering their expenses but not all their needs can be catered for straight away. They often have to wait a long time. This is why we are doing all that we can here to help them, especially in the case of emergencies where a solution cannot be found anywhere else.”
