This is Part I of a two part story about how God led me to a brothel in a dark alley in the middle of Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
It was a normal afternoon in Cambodia and my friend Miranda and I were on a tuk-tuk headed to Phnom Penh to get bus tickets for our upcoming travel to Bangkok. I was thinking during the 20 minute ride into the city how crazy it is that every time we get on tuk-tuks in these foreign Asian countries, we're literally entrusting our lives to complete strangers. We don't speak the language of our drivers and they don't speak ours… Our only forms of communication at all are either charades and made up words or the address of our destination written in their language. And so we hop on, having no idea where we’re actually going, just trusting that this strange man is going to get us there and in one piece at that.
That day wasn't any different, as I showed our driver the address of the bus company in Khmer, got in and prayed that God would take us exactly where we needed to go. We arrived at the bus station, motioning for our driver to wait, and went to try to buy bus tickets. After a couple failed attempts at communicating, we found out that we couldn't purchase the tickets that far in advance and that we'd have to go back closer to our date of departure. I was annoyed, thinking of the time we were wasting away from ministry and feeling bad for dragging Miranda with me on a pointless trip. So we got back in the tuk-tuk, frustrated with the unsuccessful attempt, and motioned to our driver to take us home.
My phone rang a couple of times so I was talking to other squad members as we were driving home, when I realized our driver was making random stops and going extremely slow.
"What is he doing?," I mouthed to Miranda.
"I think he's lost," she said.
"Great," I thought as I dug through my backpack to find the address of our house written in Khmer to show him. I hung up the phone and pulled out the card, trying to get our drivers attention. He glanced back at me only to wave his hand as if to tell me to stop worrying.
So we kept driving, our driver stopping and talking to random people in his language, everyone pointing in different directions as to where we needed to go. We made probably 5 u-turns, constantly changing our direction. Miranda and I had no idea where we were and I was starting to get even more annoyed than I was before.
This annoyance turned to worry as we crossed a road, our driver seemingly headed into a dark alley on the other side. Miranda and I looked at each other, both of our eyes popping out of our heads.
"We can't go down there!" Miranda and I yelled, but the driver laughed, having no idea what we were saying and kept going.
We stopped at the entrance of the alley, relief flooding through me as our driver was merely talking to a man outside of it, once again asking for directions. The relief was only momentary though, as the man pointed down the ally and our tuk-tuk pulled in. At this point a million thoughts were spinning in my head, none of them good or reassuring. Miranda and I screamed frantically on the back of the tuk-tuk, all while pulling our backpacks on and sliding to the edge of our seats, ready to bail ship and get away. Our driver was laughing as he drove down a little further, as if finding enjoyment in driving two terrified American girls in his back seat. The alley was dark, and men lined the edges as if waiting for something… My heart was beating out of my chest as I looked at Miranda, debating on what to do. We pulled down a little further and I saw some light flooding in through an opening between buildings, and I could make out a mother and her children sitting on a mat and playing. We pulled up to them and our driver got out, walked down the alley, and left Miranda and I alone, sitting there debating on if we should wait or make a run for it.
To be continued…
