AIDS IM ISRAEL
Nimrod is one of the 500 (^proximate)
Israelis who have tested HIV positive.
He is 22 but looks older because he is very
gaunt and his dark hair is thinning. He says
he is not symptomatic; he has always been
thin. His eyes are large, dark and haunting.
First by mail from Los Angeles and then
on the phone from Jerusalem, I try to track
down an HIV+ gay man who will consent to
be interviewed. Every man I phone recom
mends one more person for me to contact.
My phone bill in Jerusalem exceeds S75 in
just three days but I am finally put in touch
with Nimrod by someone who is working on
a series of AIDS seminars. I am warned to
tread lightly in my first conversation with
Nimrod because in Israel there are no Magic
Johnsons, no Dack Rambos, no Michael
Kearns. There is still a reluctance to come
out of the closet in Israel as evidenced in Tel
Aviv where there is only one gay bar which
is gay only one night per week. To pubhcly
proclaim that one is HIV positive is unheard
of
Nimrod, who had homosexual experienc
es as an adolescent, came out at 16. He then
went into the Israeli army for a three-year
stint which is compulsory for all Israelis—
male and female. It was during his army
period, three years ago, that he took the AIDS
test on the advice of a former lover and found
out he was positive.
“At first the world just fell in on me,” says
Nimrod. “I was totally depressed but the
same day I was introduced to a man who had
AIDS. This totally changed my outlook and
it was miraculous that I met this man just
when I got the news. He gave me hope and
made me realize I was fortunate not to have
full-blown AIDS.
“My life changed the day I got the news.
Since then, I have become more introspec
tive. I think that’s why I seem more like 32
than 22. Since that day I have lived my life
with intensity and a sense of piupose that I did
not have before.
“As for who might have given this to me,
I don’t want to think about it. There is
nothing to gain by being bitter or blaming
someone. I don’t want to know.”
Soon after Nimrod got the news, he decid
ed to see an army psychologist about the
possibility of getting a more responsible as
signment in the service than his bookkeeping
job. He took the psychologist into his confi
dence and mistakenly told her that he was
HIV+. She violated his trust, told her supe
riors and Nimrod was dismissed from the
army.
In order to get a decent job in Israel, one
has to have a card that denotes that the subject
has served his 3 years of military service and
is eligible for work. That card was denied.
Nimrod supports himself by working off and
on as a waiter and a ticket taker in a movie
theater. He can only afford to live in a small,
noisy studio apartment in downtown Tel
Aviv.
He told fiiends gradually about his condi
tion and most were supportive except for a
former fiiend who totally avoids him and will
not acknowledge him in the same room. His
parents reaction was a bit more dramatic.
“I had just come out to my parents about
6 months before the HIV+news. My mother
screamed, ranted and raved. My father said
little and tiuned into himself. He just tuned
me out.
“But when 1 told them about my test, their
reactions were totally different. My mother
didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to
discuss it but she will occasionally ask ques
tions through my father. My father, who was
totally out of it when I told him I was gay, now
talks to me all the time about my situation.
He is very concerned. My sisters have been
very supportive through it all.”
Nimrod is far from alone. There are about
100 AIDS cases in Israel. Approximately
500 people have tested positive and there are
theories that if the entire population tested,
there would be at least 5,000 positive. Nimrod
knows about 80 positive people.
“Soon after I found out I was positive, I got
involved in a support group. I think that’s
very important for any positive person—to
be able to talk to other people going through
the same problems and pressures.
“The groups vary from 5 to 12 people. We
talk a lot about the possibility of a cure but
sometimes the conversation gets humorous.
One guy recently had us all laughing—and a
little homy—when he told us he always had
problems using condoms because his cock is
so big.”
The rap groups have also brought about a
curious phenomenon.
“As an Israeli Jew, I’ve always had little
to do with Arabs. Surely, the world knows
this problem is thousands of years old but in
my HIV+ rap groups, I’ve encountered Arab
Moslems and Arab Christians and there are
no problems in communication. This thing
we share eliminated the boundaries
of religion and claims over
the West Bank and the
Gaza strip. Isn’t it
amazing that it
takes a catas
trophe like ^
AIDS
t o
s over only se
o'mft’.
Adolfus can tell you all about it.
30, dark-haired, dark darting eyes, slim,
intense, a chain-smoker, Adolfus is a bisex
ual who married at 18 because he wanted
children. He was aware ofhis bisexuality and
still continues to maintain a marriage while
having arelationship with two different men.
He doesn’t consider himself promiscuous
because his wife and the two men are his
only sexual outlets.
But one of these
men—amanwith
whomhe is still
^ friendly—
^ gave him
• HIV.
U n -
^Cj
^fPORT BV
bring
Jews
and Arabs
together?”
Nimrod
has become total
ly involved in the
world of AIDS and was in
terviewed on Israeli television on
World AIDS day with his face shadowed. He
attended AIDS conferences in the U.S. and
one in London recently where he met his
current lover, an Austrian.
“I think it is more comfortable for an
HIV+ person to have a lover who is also
positive. It makes for less strain on the
relationship and there is a kind of shorthand
commimication. You are both facing the
same problems.
“My Austrian lover gets financial support
from his government but for me it is very
difficult. The Israeli government will only
help me if I actually develop AIDS. Until
then, I can count on them for nothing.”
Nimrod was on medication, AL721, for a
while but found it vile to the taste. He is now
living a normal life without vitamins,
macrobiotic food, medicine and like most
Israelis, is a heavy smoker.
He is appalled that more people have not
taken the HIV test but acknowledges that the
munbers have climbed since Magic Johnson’s
announcement.
“We didn’t know who he was in Israel but
the impact of his declaration has increased
the testing numbers tremendously. The test
ing is all anonymous so everyone is guaran
teed confidentiality. I was one of the unlucky
ones because my results were not kept pri
vate.”
And what is the Israeli government doing
to educate the population about AIDS?
“I think we are now farther along than the
U.S. We not only have AIDS commercials
on TV but we have ads in our newsp^rs
which actually use words like ‘cock.’ The
ads are earthy, powerful and sometimes in
ject a little humor.
“I hope the ads are working so that people
are using condoms and getting tests.”
And what does Nimrod see in his future?
“I do not think too far ahead; I live from
day to day. I feel my life is more genuine and
true since 1 was diagnosed. 1 cannot say
‘Thank God’ for my situation but I am hap
pier than I have ever been in my life. 1 have
a lover and I have a sense of purpose.”
I hug Nimrod goodbye, aware ofhis bony
frame and walk to Dissengoff Circle thinking
of the physically healthy people I know who
could learn something from this optimistic
man with haunting eyes.
AIDS IM LITHUANIA
Just a few short years ago, Lithuania broke
away from the U.S.S.R. to become indepen
dent. The country continues to make enor
mous gains towards free enterprise and self
expression, away from the confines of Com
munism. But if a person was H1V+ or had
AIDS, this would not be agood place to live.
like
» people
in the
United
States and
Western Eiuope
who take the test on
their own terms and are
told the results in confidentiality,
Adolfus was given the test—^unbeknownst to
him—^when he went in to have a lymph node
removed in 1987. His consent was never
asked for.
The hospital that took the test passed the
information to the AIDS center in Vilnius
and then the AIDS center contacted Adolfus
with the news that he had tested positive.
Adolfus went a little crazy at first and got
drunk with his best friend.
Adolfus’ wife found out in a way that
shocks societies which deal with AIDS in a
more sophisticated manner. She was told of
her husband’s HIV status when she phoned
his hospital for some other information.
Confidentiality is nonexistent in Lithuania.
Since then, Adolfus has told his friends
but not his relatives. He does not think he
would get his family’s support.
Positive for five years, Adolfus has started
to experience declining health. Within the
past six moths, his T-Cell coimt has gone
from 740 to 200. In the U.S., he would be
classified as having AIDS.
Although skeptical about any medicines,
Adolfus did take DDI because it was a gift
from a philanthropic American woman who
visited the Lithuanian AIDS center. He took
it to show his appreciation for her caring. If
a Lithuanian doctor had prescribed DDI, he
wouldn’t have taken it.
Adolfus expresses ^eat cynicism when
he hears about the positive men in America
who have changed their lifestyles and be
come very health conscious wi& regimes of
exercise, vitamins, organic foods and alter
native holistic me&ods. His mind is closed
to the fact that many of these people have
lived more than 10 years. He believes that
nothing will save them and that death is
inevit£d)le.
The Lithuanian economy makes it diffi
cult for Adolfus to be as sexually safe as one
would like. He makes about $70 per month
•while American and Japanese condoms cost
from forty to eighty cents each which adds up
to a lot of money if one is a sexually active
yoimg man.
Adolfus pauses when asked about his cur
rent sex hfe in greater detail. The interviewer
wants to know how such an active person is
coping if the price of condoms is so high.
Adolfus a^its to being “70% safe.” He
chooses not to elaborate on the “30%” gray
area. He dates the two men in his life and
continues to be intimate with his wife al
though they are no longer living together.
AIDS has opened up Adolfus’ life rather
than confine it. Few Lithuanians can afford
to travel outside their country but Adolfus
has attended several international AIDS con
ferences with his expenses paid by donations
and AIDS organizations from the West.
At one time so depressed that he attempt
ed suicide, he now works as an organizer for
the AIDS center in Vilnius. He speaks to
teenagers about the dangers of unsafe sex.
He feels an obhgation to provide others with
informaticMi—the informationhe didnothave.
But Adolfus is still an angry man. He is
angry that he has waited three years imder the
Lithuanian medical system for a comprehen
sive battery of health tests but on the other
hand, tests frightenhim because ofthe lackof
confidentiality. He is angry that his declin
ing health and the visa qualifications of some
conservative countries limit his travel capa
bilities.
But anger and pessimism do not entirely
rule Adolfus’ life. He recently designed a
logo for the AIDS center in Vilnius which
shows a rising sun. Adolfus regards the
ascending sun as a symbol of hope.
AIDS IN STRASSOURG
Strasbourg is a quaint and beautiful medi
eval city on the German border of Eastern
France. Even in the worst of winter weather,
toiuists swarm into churches and cathedrals,
clog small winding streets and eat onion tarts.
But quaintness and beauty are no protec
tion against AIDS. In that area, Strasbourg is
fully into the 1990s.
The local AIDS organization, AIDS
Alsace, got off to a rocky start just five years
ago. For the first two years of its existence,
the organization could not find a landlord
willing to rent out office space but now AIDS
Alsace is well-estabhshed on an upscale main
street adjacent to a major park.
Composed of 13 paid employees, AIDS
Alsace operates quite differently from Amer
ican AIDS organizations. Whereas Ameri
can AIDS organization heads are chosen by
boards of directors and employees are hired
by estabhshed personnel (human resources)
departments, all AIDS Alsace employees are
hired by its volunteers.
But that system makes the Strasbourg
organization no less subject to personality
problems. Very much like AIDS organiza
tions in American cities, the employees of
AIDS Alsace have to contend with overwork,
finstration and subsequent burnout and per
sonality conflicts—the problems that haunt
any and every AIDS organization.
In the final analysis, the purpose of all
AIDS centers is to educate those who are not
HIV+ and give support on several levels to
those people who are HFV+ or have AIDS.
Joe is an example of the people who profit
by the work done by AIDS Alsace.
Joe has clinical AIDS, but is full of fight
and anger. He is tall, thin, pale and looks
much olderthanhis 36 years. He was a self-
employed trade show worker before his health
degenerated. Joe paid part ofhis wages into
France’s socialized medicine health program
and now he is reaping the benefits of those
payments. Any money that he pays out for
medicines, doctors and operations is all re
turned to him eventually. What he has had
treated in France at no charge—circulation
problems, K.S., tuberculosis, testicular am
putations—would have cost someone in
America hundreds of thousands of dollars.
For the first three years of Joe’s illness, he
received half ofhis former wages from the
government. He has received an “Invalid”
status by the government and now collects
$640 per month. This covers his rent and
food requirements.
His T-Cell count, which was 800 in Feb
ruary 1989, is now 129.
After hearing the news of his status, Joe
toldhis lover. At firstthe man was supportive
to the point of frenzy but they are no longer
together. His mother, father and sisters took
the news very emotionally but have remained
supportive.
With his strength ebbing away, Joe makes
up for any energy loss with his feistiness. He
lets people at AIDS Alsace know exactly
whathis opinions are. They know if the visor
of his captain’s hat—a weather vane of his
emotiond state—is turned to the side that he
is to be avoided but he can be confronted if
the visor faces front.
Withmost ofhis fiiends dead or dying, Joe
spends his time at AIDS Alsace counseling
others with HIV or AIDS. With what little
energy he has, he tries to turn his anger into
a force of help and aid to those in need. He
is aware that he blunders sometimes but
passion is not always shaped by diplomacy.
It is comforting to him that when he dies,
the virus will also die, but that the love he is
trying to show to others will somehow live on
and be his legacy.