One of the most challenging things I’ve seen so far on the
Race happened this month. Our
pastor asked us if we would like to visit the local brick factory, where
twenty-three families live and work.
Entire families are employed there, and children must begin working at
the age of five. At first I didn’t
really understand the big deal about the brick factory, honestly I was thinking
at least these people have jobs, and of course child labor is terrible but it’s
a way of life in the third world (jaded much?). But as I listened to our pastor describe just what went down
at this brick factory and hundreds like it around Cambodia my heart just broke,
again. I didn’t know my heart
could take as much as it has these ten months, but God just continues to break
it and put it back together. But
each time a bit more of it gets left behind in whatever country I happen to be
in.
The brick factory.
So these brick factory workers make about $20 a week, in
order to earn this they must make 10,000 bricks. Many of these workers have taken out loans with the
factory owners or buy things like food or supplies to build a house on credit. This causes them to start off in debt to
the owner, and as they continue to work they fall further and further into debt
because of the poor record keeping of the factory owners. Most of the workers cannot read or
write and so have no way to keep track of how much they have paid back or how
much they owe. The owners take
advantage of this and fudge the records, saying that the workers own hundreds
or even thousands of dollars more than they do. If any of the workers try to run away from the factory the
owners send out people to find them and bring them back, and then they are
charged with whatever costs they incurred to find and bring them back. So basically these factory owners are
slave owners and the workers are slaves.
They make basically nothing because they pay almost everything they earn
back to the owners.
A twelve year old girl, showing Jamos how it’s done.
And somehow the children that live here are joyful, they
run, jump, and play in giant mounds of clay and dirt that will eventually
become bricks, they laugh and giggle at the crazy white people that try to say
their names and speak their language really poorly. They held my hands, taught me to count in Khmer, and ran
down the giant dirt hill with me.
They smiled and I smiled back.
Simple as that.
The kids and I playing in the dirt.
I don’t know that I can do anything but pray for those
families, that somehow the factory owner’s heart would be changed, softened for
the people who work for him, that he would desire to be fair and truthful more
than he desires money and power. I
pray that the children there wouldn’t be trapped in that lifestyle, that
something better, something different is being prepared for them in this
earthly kingdom. I pray that the
Lord will continue to send His people into the country of Cambodia and that
places like the brick factory will cease to exist.
