Bridging the Gap- Egyptian- Jordanian and Moroccan dentists study in Israel

"Despite all I'd read about Israel, I'm astounded to see how closely Arab and Jew live with one another here," says Laila Lboukili, a periodontist from Morocco. "Whether it's in Hadassah Hospital where they lie in adjacent beds, or in the Old City where they own adjacent shops, people live without conflict."

Dr. Lboukili and 10 colleagues were studying in Israel mid-April to mid-May, the second such group of Middle Eastern dental professionals to do so. They were at Hadassah under the auspices of the D. Walter Cohen Middle East Center for Dental Education, which opened at the Hadassah-Hebrew University Dental Faculty in May 1997 with the goal of building bridges to peace.

"What we've found since our very first symposium is that our profession and its challenges are similar wherever we practice," says Center Secretary Dr. Harold D. Sgan-Cohen of the Dental Faculty's Department of Community Dentistry. "Whether it's overcentralization, inadequate budgets or balancing the needs of the individual against those of the community, it's clear that the time has come to work together toward promoting human health."

Although this is only the second course for dental professionals that the Center has run, it is already well known and extremely popular. The Hebrew University-Hadassah Dental School has a worldwide reputation, and new applications to the course are made through representatives of the D. Walter Cohen Center throughout the Middle East almost every week.

"The level [of expertise] of the participants differs very widely," says Dr. Sgan-Cohen, "but as the course is personally designed for each candidate this doesn't present a problem. One Jordanian, for example, is a dental technician not a dentist, so his requirements are different. Some participants have been specialized for years, others are just beginning their specialization. We try to ensure that everyone gets the training he/she needs."

Participants in the second course, like the first, have been enthusiastic and responsive. "The Hadassah dentists we've met not only do an enormous amount of clinical dentistry," said one participant, who preferred to keep his name and nationality out of print, "their level of specialization is also very high, and, in addition to all that, they teach and do extensive research."

The course is succeeding, it seems, not only on the level of professional respect and cooperation, but also because of the Middle East connection. "I was in a taxi, and the driver asked me where I was from," says Dr. Lboukili. "When I answered 'Morocco,' he said, 'Me too!"'

A Mea Shearim toy store owner, discovering his customers were from Jordan, switched languages immediately and started speaking Arabic. "I came to Israel from Iraq as a child," he told them. "We always admired your King Hussein. You have kids at home? Here. Take them jump ropes, a gift from me."

Around Hadassah itself relations are equally warm. "Things were a little stilted and awkward the first day or two," says Yehudit Rudolph, who as the Center's administrative secretary coordinates the nonacademic side of the course. "One of the dentists even asked me: 'Don't Israelis ever smile?' But by the end of the week, the ice had melted away. A man in a kipa [skull cap] walked past him the other day and clapped him on the back. When I asked the dentist who the man was, he answered me: 'Oh, he's my friend.'"

If human relations is an aim secondary to upgrading regional dental practice, the program is nevertheless succeeding on both levels. "For us, running this course is exciting, rewarding and, in many ways, still hard to believe," says Dr. Sgan-Cohen. "Twenty years ago, even five years ago, who would have thought that we'd be sitting down with Egyptians, Jordanians and Moroccans, discussing dentistry on a very serious level, establishing a growing group of alumni, and working together to improve dental health throughout the entire region?"