There is no way to adequately describe Bangla Road.  Trust me I know.  I read the blogs, I saw the pictures from past racers, I "knew" what I was getting myself into this month.  And then I showed up on the road.  

The first time we went was during the day for a prayer walk.  The ministry does this purposefully because it's easier to take in the first time during day light hours.  During the day it just looks like a sleazy part of town with (literally) hundreds of bars, cheap souvenirs and all the Western amenities a tourist could want: 7-11, Starbucks, McDonalds, etc.  The weird part is you know it's sleazy.  You can tell just by looking.  Or at least I could.  Surprisingly a lot of people don't.  I can't tell you how many families I saw walking down the street, taking pictures, laughing, stopping to buy an elephant candle or slushie.  I wanted to shake them and tell them to look.  Really look.  Instead I prayed my heart off for these tourists.  Prayed for protection and eyes to see. 

Outside one bar was a cage with handcuffs.  People didn't even give it a second glance.

The next night we went in for ministry.  This is the part I can't describe.  This is what can't be captured in a picture or described in words.  There's no way to really share what it's like to hear Adele's Rolling In the Deep being blared from a bar where 5-6 young women are dancing on top of a bar, wearing next to nothing and people are stopping to take pictures.  Not in a "oh my gosh this is terrible, I have to do something" sort of way but in a "oh look how crazy fun this culture is" sort of way.  

I can't really describe what it's like to see a white women pole dancing in a glass box high above the ground.  I can't describe the fear that grabbed my heart when I saw a 4 year old Thai girl running around at 11:30pm at night all by herself.  I can't describe the shock of those same families I saw during the day now walking around at night.  I have had to avoid more strollers down the tiny alleyways then I have drunken frat boys.  I can't describe the uncomfortableness of being invited to a Ping Pong show every three feet and knowing that Ping Pong show means live sex.  

I also can't describe the instant love I feel for all the people down here.

I knew I would love the bar girls.  That's easy, they are women who are stuck for various reasons selling their bodies multiple times a night.  They need legit love.  But what I wasn't expecting was my love for the men buying the women.  I knew God had placed them on my heart but I didn't know what that would look like.  What that looked like is in one bar my heart breaking as this midthirties white guy played connect four with a bar girl.  I knew he was debating buying her for a part of the night.  My heart hurt for him.  I could literally feel the loneliness radiating off of him.  He's searching for something more, just the same as I am, as that bar girl is, as we all are.

This happens again and again.  I see these men sitting with women and all I can see is loneliness and sadness.

The weird part?  I don't feel their loneliness or sadness.  The ministry here has put in a ton of work covering this place in prayer.  Every afternoon a group prayer walks the streets we'll walk down.  As we walk we pray.  Each night half the group stays back and prays while the other half is out.  When I am out there I feel the joy of the Lord and His hope.  He is in this place and there will be victory here!

So that's just a quick intro to life here!  More to come soon!