\”She was on the brink of death. It had taken us six hours to bury a Syrian refugee we had found in the forest last time. Should we have just started digging?” Tomas inquired, his eyes desperately searching for an answer in my face. The morning after this traumatic incident, it was clear that he needed to talk to someone. Tomas and I were offering health services to refugees and asylum seekers in Harmanli, a small Bulgarian town near the Bulgaria-Turkey border. Although medical care was supposed to be provided by a large international NGO in the refugee camp, their doctor was rarely present and only offered basic care. Since other organizations were not permitted inside the camp, the two NGOs Tomas and I volunteered with set up a medical station in a nearby park. We treated conditions such as respiratory infections, GERD, pneumonia, scabies, and bedbug bites, but most of our work involved wound care. Many refugees had endured long, treacherous journeys through forests, rivers, and mountains to reach Bulgaria, resulting in numerous wounds. Once they arrived, they were placed in camps where infections were common due to poor conditions and inadequate nutrition. Many refugees who perished while attempting to cross the border were buried in unmarked graves by strangers, depriving them of dignity even in death. The Syrian refugee woman Tomas had tried to save the previous night had briefly regained strength after hours of resuscitation efforts. However, a few days later, we learned that a body matching her description had been discovered in the forest. Despite my years of experience in this field, I found myself at a loss for comforting words as Tomas recounted his experience. We were striving to provide medical assistance to individuals who had fled from violent conflicts in places like Syria and Afghanistan, only to face further violence at European borders. One of the refugees I met, Muhammad, had wounds that resembled those inflicted during the transatlantic slave trade. As I tended to his injuries, he shared his harrowing journey, which involved being detained and brutally beaten by Serbian border police. Dr. Nasir, an Afghan refugee, translated Muhammad’s story as I listened intently, offering words of reassurance and support. Another refugee, Ahmed, had previously worked as an ambulance driver in Syria and now volunteered as our Arabic translator. Despite enduring unimaginable horrors, he remained dedicated to helping others. I also encountered Halima, a pregnant woman who had lost her triplets after a perilous journey. Despite my efforts to provide care, I felt powerless in the face of her immense loss. Yasmeen, a young girl with rheumatic heart disease, highlighted the devastating impact of the war on Syria’s healthcare system. Although I could not provide all the necessary medications, I did my best to help her father access his diabetes medication. The hospitality and warmth shown by refugees like Uncle Ali continued to amaze me, even in the most challenging circumstances. As we returned to Sofia to continue providing medical care to refugees in the capital, I reflected on the resilience and strength displayed by those we had encountered on our journey.”
