On Wednesday night Ruth and I, along with a translator and one of our contacts wife. We had talking to one of the prostitutes in an alley in the poor red light district area, (mothers, and older women selling themselves for $10 for a room or $5 for in the alley. This is US currency). While we were speaking life into her I notice that a man on a motorcycle pass by a few times. Now most of the women’s clients are men on motorcycles, so I paid no attention to him.
It wasn’t until he stopped and walked over to (Rachel) the women we had been talking too and pointed his figure at me and asked her how much does “she” cost. Rachel a women that I just meet, and knew nothing about in her language yelled at him saying, “What is wrong with you, this is a good girl here to pray for me. She is not for sale.” The man just shook his head and drove away on his motto. Our translator told us what Rachel had said to him, and I looked at her and thanked her. Then in her broken English she told me, “These men think that just because you are here in the alley it means you are for sale, they think that we are all the same, but we’re not.” Looking at her and hearing what she just said, hit me hard. I looked at her I was thinking in my head you don’t belong here either.
After leaving Rachel I was still thinking of that man, thinking what women he would have and how she would feel after it. Getting it out of my head while walking towards (Katie), the lady boy from before who let us in from the rain and told us that she is finally going to church.
We see Katie sitting down waiting for a man to pass by and get his attention. She sees us and is so happy that we came. We began talking to her, and after about 15 minutes go by I see another man stop and ask how much Ruth and I cost.I thought to myself, this is the second time Lord, don’t they see that we don’t belong. That we aren’t one of them! I heard the translator tell him something and he drove off again. When leaving to go back to the Kawan center for debrief on the night, we walked back to the car a man on a motor bike asked if he could by us a drink… but we all knew what he really wanted. At that point I just laughed it off, and looked at Ruth. Really all we could do is laugh at the situating, getting mad solves nothing and yelling profanity isn’t Christian.
What I wanted to do was yell…
Yell at the men, “Go home to your family”.
Tell the women on the streets that this is no life for you, that you deserve much better than this!
While talking to one of the women, I saw another women walk into a back door with a man and ten minutes later walk back out. With his business done he rode off. This is no life for anyone; most of the women there are there on choice not because they have a pimp or a madam, but because they can make good money quick.
Looking at the face of a woman that we had ministered in the past with, I could see that she didn’t want to be there. Her face was one who wanted to flee.
I hope and pray for them daily. I pray that one day they no longer have to walk the alleys of the Red Light District!
