By Lisa Chmelecki,Staff Writer

LEWISTON – Dr. Stephen Sokol took one look at the tiny mud huts and the crowds of people crammed around each one and he knew the Sudanese region of Darfur would prove to be the most atrocious place he had ever worked.

The Lewiston doctor’s prediction was confirmed the day he opened the first medical clinic. More than 200 refugees showed up.

Sokol and his Sudanese colleagues treated them for everything from malaria and diarrhea to respiratory illnesses and infected burn wounds.

The number of starving, dehydrated patients grew every day, eventually reaching a high of 950.

A day after returning from his seven-month trip, Sokol still couldn’t talk about everything he saw.

“The experiences are so intense, so vivid,” he said Monday, sitting in the living room in his home on Davis Street. “When I come back, it’s hard for me to talk about them. It usually takes about a month.”

Sokol, 67, worked as a general physician in Lewiston, Togus and Portland, before devoting his career to international aid work.

Over the past eight years, he has gone to Haiti, Russia, Macedonia, Kenya, Peru and Sierra Leone. He left for Sudan last September with the intention of staying 90 days.

He knew within a month that he would need much more time.

The people of Darfur are under attack. The conflict began in February 2003 when black Sudanese rebels attacked government property, accusing the government of neglecting Darfur in favor of the Arab population in Sudan.

The government responded by arming a nomadic Arab militia, known as Janjaweed, to wage a campaign of violence against non-Arab, black villagers.

In what U.S. officials have classified as genocide, tens of thousands of people have been murdered, raped and driven from their homes to desolate refugee camps across the region.

Police often patrolled the camps, driving Toyota pickup trucks with cannons mounted in their cabs.

They showed up at the clinic one day, looking for villagers who they claimed had attacked them first. As medical director, Sokol approached them and welcomed them in under one condition.

“You’re not coming in here with a weapon. That’s the rule,” the thin, white-haired doctor said.

The men dropped their guns and pushed their way inside. To Sokol’s relief, the villagers had gone to another clinic.

“Sure, I was nervous,” Sokol said. “They had the guns. They could have shot me. But there are certain things that you have to do.”

The female refugees were probably equally as afraid to leave the camp in search of wood and brush. But they had no choice. They had to cook for their families.

Many were raped and beaten by members of the militia before returning.

In the weeks before he left, Sokol helped set up a program to train Sudanese medical providers on how to treat sexual assault victims.

For Sokol, leaving is never easy.

Tired and 20 pounds lighter than when he arrived, he knew it was time to go. His wife, Gerta Neu-Sokol, was waiting for him.

“Really in my heart, I am so proud. I’m so glad he is willing to do this kind of work,” she said Monday. “Then there is the reality. Then there are the terrible things happening.”

While Sokol was in Sudan, an American grant writer was killed when her convoy was attacked on its way to the clinic. News of this and other attacks may be why Sokol left before his position was filled.

“Not many people want to go to Darfur,” he said.

The three clinics Sokol set up were treating an average of 13,000 patients a day when he left. Sokol left feeling proud that not one person died while waiting to be seen.

Still, it never takes long for the guilt to set in.

“I feel terrible,” he said. “I feel like I’m abandoning everybody.”

Sokol decided Monday that he’ll return to Sudan, maybe at the end of the summer.

His wife said she’ll support him under one condition: He’s not going until he gains at least 10 pounds.