My feet hurt. Walking all day in $5, one size too small, heals will do that to you. I wonder if the bar girls feet ache after a night dancing in 5 inch stiletto boots, I would think so.
Tonight was more bar outreach. I prayed differently this time. Instead of praying for God to open my eyes to the spiritual reality I prayed that I would see onlywhat God wanted me to see, and that He would let me minister. Last week what I saw was so intense I almost vomited.
A week ago when we split up in groups for outreach I ended up with Annie the founder of NightLight. She took another volunteer and meto two bars. At the second bar I was approached by a tiny woman, #12, Mae. She timidly sat next to me and asked if I wanted to buy her a drink, which pays for her time.
We talked for a few minutes, she wanted to know where I was from. I learned that despite her tiny frame she was 32 and had a 2 year old baby. Her English was proficient but it was hard to have a conversation over the pulsating music. Everything in the bar is designed to stimulate the senses, loud music, bright multi colored lights, scantly clad women. Before we had a chance to go much deeper, Annie informed me that it was time to meet up with the rest of the group. I said goodbye saddened by the fact that Mae and I didn’t get much of a opportunity to talk.
Tonight, without meaning to, I ended up back at Mae’s bar. After my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw her dancing on the platform. We made eye contact and she gave a genuine smile. I was struck by how thin she was and how huge the dark circles under her eyes were. When it was her turn to stop dancing she immediately made her way over to me. It was obvious she just wanted a safe place to sit, away from the lustful stares of the male customers.
“Are you tired?” I asked.
“Yes, very, we only get two days off a month. It’s been a long time since my last day off.” I was so grateful that she was instantly real with me.
“Wow, I would be exhausted, you must be so tired!”
“We have to pay the bar 1,000 Bhat if we miss a day of work.” That’s $33 which is a fourtune here.
“Are you required to go with a certain amount of men every month?”
“Yes, we are required to go with 12 men every month, or else we have to pay the bar.”
I got to stay for about an hour, we talked the whole time, except when she had to dance. We discussed how much we miss our families, she told me about her daughter and we went over good places to buy earrings.
Tomorrow I hope to go back and buy her for the night. I hope to give her an actual night off. Maybe we can go bowling, or shop for new earrings, or eat ice cream, what ever she wants to do. Maybe the Mamasong (bar manager) will cooperate and it will work. Pray that it does!
After our time at the Nana plaza I went with a small group to a hotel full of trafficked Eastern European women. I’m not quite ready to put what I saw into words, but hopefully that will be another blog.
As I stared out the window while riding the bus home the Switchfoot song “Easier Than Love” was reverberating in my head.
Sex is currency
She sells cars,
She sells magazines
Addictive bittersweet, clap your hands,
with the hopeless nicotines…
She sells cars,
She sells magazines
Addictive bittersweet, clap your hands,
with the hopeless nicotines…
She is easier than love
Is easier than life
It’s easier to fake and smile and bribe
Is easier than life
It’s easier to fake and smile and bribe
It’s easier to leave
It’s easier to lie
It’s harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we’ve become?
Where is my soul?
Numb
Sex is industry,
The CEO, of corporate policy
Skin-deep ministry,
Suburban youth, hail your so-called liberty
Every advertising antic,
Our banner waves with a neon glow
War and love become pedantic,
We wage love with a mistletoe
Our banner waves with a neon glow
War and love become pedantic,
We wage love with a mistletoe
Everyone’s been scared to death of dying here alone
She is easier than love
Is easier than life
It’s easier to fake and smile and bribe
It’s easier to leave
It’s easier to lie
It’s harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we’ve become?
