The street is so noisy. Not necessarily with sounds, but with busyness. Everywhere noise lurks, distractions arise, places and people are begging for my attention at each turn. The light reflects of the golden temples and catches my eye, the smell of fresh fish at the market invades my nostrils, sweat from the day’s rising humidity drips down my forehead and the lady at the corner shop calls to me saying she’ll give me a good price. The dust and simplicity of Africa is nowhere in sight. We are in the city now. My name is no longer mzungu, but farang, foreigner, tourist, someone else to overrun the city and use the culture and its people. I am no one special; there are many other white people around the market, in the restaurants, strolling the sidewalks. I am simply a tourist.
Saturday night my teammate Stephanie and I went for a walk. We sat down for a couple of Cokes and met a new friend. Conversation was natural as she was easy to talk to and interested in learning about us. We played a game of Connect Four and shared about our hobbies. The girl is only 26, a mere few years older than Steph or myself, and she enjoys fishing and eating T-bone steaks. She’s really sweet and I hope we get to have more conversations over the next two weeks here in Chiang Mai.
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Saturday night I followed my teammate Stephanie down “Bar Street”. I had never been and she had only seen the area once before. We passed by all the bars, some already occupied with customers and games of pool. We found a table and ordered some drinks, non-alcoholic, to show the intent of our visit. Rika* soon joined us as business was slow and took up the offer to play Connect Four. The small chips were not red and blue with a nice yellow board, kid-friendly, rather they were neon pink and lime green to be placed into a black playing board. The design alone suggested a twisted concoction of something originally meant to be innocent. As my eye caught a glance of the checkered tablecloth it was not from a fun family picnic, but rather decorated alternatingly with skulls and marijuana leaves.
Rika, our new friend, works at the bar. She’s 26 years old and can’t weigh more than 100 lbs. Her long dark hair falls to her waist and she wears skimpy shorts and a tube top decorated with cherries. She’s surprised at our order and asks if we drink beer. We say no. What about champagne? No thanks. Vodka? No we don’t drink alcohol, actually. She’s amazed and comments that she drinks too much. Once you start you can’t stop.
We talk about where we’re all from, what we like to do, what we like to eat. Rika’s face lights up as she tells us about how she used to go on fishing trips and bring in a fish weighing many kilos. She’s tiny but she enjoys a good T-bone steak. For a moment I lose myself in the conversation, completely blocking out the lights, Muay Thai boxing ring down the street and the noisy and probably profane songs that play under the dark roofed area. Rika is a normal girl. I can talk to her like a friend, laughing and joking back and forth.
Still, as we sit for 30 minutes, then 45, she seems antsy. I know she’s listening, that she’s having fun talking to Steph and I, but she is at work and needs to pay attention to other customers too. At one point, Stephanie tells her that she’s beautiful. She smiles, laughs and says, “Lots of men tell me I’m so beautiful. I tell them, ‘That’s bullshit’. But coming from you, then I think I believe it.”
She yearns for attention, for love and satisfaction. The desire is there in her eyes; you don’t have to look very deep to see. Two young men step up to play pool in our bar. She glances around anxiously and tells us that they are her type. They’re good looking and tall. She thanks us for the talk and excuses herself to join a game of pool. We tell her we’re glad we met her and will be back again soon to visit. She hugs us and smiles as she turns to go.
At the beginning of the month our team was told that we could choose between two different ministries: building relationships with students on a college campus or with the girls, owners and even customers who frequented the bars in the red-light district. I was really conflicted in my choice, but went with the student option because I felt I’d be able to connect there and form some good relationships.
One week in and it was clear that this is a poor time for student ministry. It’s exam time and Thai students are very studious and therefore very unlikely to have time to spare for a few farangs (foreigners). Saturday was my first time working with the bar ministry and the Lord gave me a good night.
There were some moments of apprehension and tension as I walked past places so dark I know that Satan lives there. There were blacked out windows and closed curtains as we walked by the giant towers with neon signs and “karaoke bars” on the corner. We prayed for the light of Christ to invade these dark recesses as we passed by to bars more open to the public. Even then from the feeling I got as I walked by I would not turn my head to look past the entrances and into some places.
I only had one good conversation with one girl in one bar on Saturday night. But that’s a start. Today, Steph, Anne and I walked back down through the area after prayer-walking to see if Rika was in. She wasn’t, but as we approached her friend said, “I saw you a few nights ago talking with Rika.” She noticed us. She knows we are different. She’s curious. We greeted her warmly and asked her to pass on a “Sawadeekah” (hello) to Rika for us, promising we’d come back.
Tomorrow I look forward with anticipation to see what the Lord will do. We will go back to see Rika and hopefully meet many more women and even some of the men vacationing here. We have the Light dwelling inside of us and I pray that it is busting out at every joint and fingertip. This month is filled with darkness but there is a Light that the darkness cannot overcome and we go to make sure that Thailand knows Him, one bar at a time.
*Name changed for privacy.
