In a classroom in the center of Skopje, late at night, nothing is heard but the repetition of the same phrases. “Ich bin Arzt. Ich suche Arbeit” (I am a doctor. I am looking for a job). Sentences that sound like homework, but are actually a one-way ticket. Not to another clinic here, but to another place, reports Gazeta Express from ALSAT.
This is becoming more and more common. Young doctors, interns, and even experienced medical staff are taking German language courses.
A young doctor says his shifts at a state institution last up to 18 hours.
"It's not just fatigue that's the problem. The problem is that you don't see a future," he says.
He doesn't care whether he works in Munich or Hamburg. He just wants to leave.
Meanwhile, advertisements from German clinics are multiplying. Salary, conditions, clearly defined career paths. There, experts say, the doctor is systematically evaluated. Here, he is often left to the mercy of fate.
The numbers are not officially complete, but the trend is clear. Every year dozens, and by some estimates, hundreds, of doctors leave the country. Some leave immediately after graduation. Others after several years of struggling with the system.
In parallel, private German language schools are seeing a surge in interest. Classes are packed. Some groups consist almost exclusively of medical staff. Teachers say that most often the question is not about grammar, but about procedures. How is a diploma recognized. How long does the process take. Can you work immediately?
One of the lecturers explains that students do not come with enthusiasm, but with a plan.
"This is not a course. This is preparation for departure," he says.
However, in hospitals, the consequences are already being felt. Staff shortages. Longer waiting lists. Overcrowded wards. Older doctors are left to hold the system together, while younger ones seek a way out.
Analysts warn that the problem is not just financial. Salary is part of the story, but it is not the only factor. The work atmosphere, opportunities for advancement, attitudes within institutions, and even a sense of injustice all play a big role.
"When the system doesn't give you a chance, it's normal to look elsewhere," say health sector experts.
There are those who hesitate. They stay, at least for the time being. Partly because of family, partly because of a sense of obligation. But they also admit that they are learning the German alphabet. Just in case.
At a clinic in Skopje, a nurse says that in the last two years she has sent several colleagues to the airport.
"It's always the same. First the course, then the documents, then the departure. And then, an empty seat," he says.
The state occasionally announces measures. Wage increases, new jobs, improved conditions. But the effects are slow and evictions are not long in coming.
The problem is that this is not a migration like any other. This is a knowledge drain. An investment that goes away. A doctor who educates the system, and someone else uses it.
Meanwhile, the evening classes continue. The board is filled with new words. “Krankenhaus” (hospital), “Patient”, “Behandlung” (treatment). The same words they use here. Only their future is written in a different language.
And so, while hospitals are short of staff, classrooms are preparing for new departures. Quietly, without much fanfare. With a sentence that is heard more and more:
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” (Do you speak German?) ALSA.
t7 live
