Adventures WorldRace SethBarnes Sponsorship Giving

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As I write this blog, two new friends of mine are going to work. They’ve probably changed their clothes and carefully put on their makeup, the same way they had last night, when I met them.
 

The same way they had when I met them at a dance bar in a tourist-packed area of Kathmandu.

I’d been to this area before; I’d spent our debrief days walking the many streets of cafes and shops selling trekking gear and elephant pants. I’d seen it lit up and streaming with tourists from all over the world by night, passing by flashing lights for underground dance bars without batting an eye.
 
But last night was different.

Our ministry hosts explained that young girls often come from villages to work in Kathmandu in dance bars and cabin restaurants. They come-unknowingly and knowingly- to these positions. Tricked, trafficked, or without any other options, women of all ages come to these jobs.

A cabin restaurant is a restaurant that, by appearances, seems normal. The tables are usually surrounded by low walls, so each booth is a “cabin.” Men get as much service as they pay for, so the more drinks they order-the more money they spend-the more service they get. The girls’ job is to get the men to spend as much as possible. Yesterday, the girls we talked to were drunk, and it was 2 in the afternoon. It made my heart hurt to think about the drinks they’d already been bought.

A dance bar is similar. The girls (and young men) dance onstage and are also waitresses. They get customers to spend money and, at the end of the night, can be sent to cars with men waiting inside.

Our ministry last night was to go out in small groups to these dance bars and love the girls and boys,  making friends. Our hosts rescue girls from trafficking and these kind of jobs, so we were also told to keep our eyes and ears open for girls who wanted to leave.

The first thing that struck me about the dance bar when we went in was that there were men dancing onstage. The pumping music and lights competed for my attention as we were ushered to booth seats around a table. Two girls immediately joined us, and we bought them juices and ordered some for ourselves. We talked with the girls, 18 and 19, about their lives as best as we could. Hannah and I couldn’t understand much of what the girl we talked to was saying, but made conversation nonetheless. I didn’t care how intoxicated she was or that our conversation was difficult-I just knew that if she was with me, she couldn’t be with the men.

Meanwhile, my squadmate Mallory had a good conversation with the other girl at our table, Alex*.

Alex’s bobbed hair swung with her beautiful smile as she tilted her head, telling Mallory about her family that she provides for by working at the dance bar. She shared her dreams, and her favorite memory. She also told Mallory she didn’t want to work there anymore, and we took her phone number down.

After a little while, another girl sat down next to me. Bright and smiley, she introduced herself as Ruby*, and she was wearing a beautifully beaded, 2-piece dress. In a harsh contrast against the intricate beads, I noticed that her arm was bandaged.

“Ruby, your arm! What happened? Are you okay?”

“I just had an accident!” She said, brushing it off. I didn’t want to push, so I went on to ask her about her family.

“My parents are both dead, my mom and my dad. And my brother is working abroad. And so I got this job.”

“How long have you been working here?” And she told me she’d worked there for about a year.

“Do you like it?”

“No.” She said firmly, her bright demeanor changing.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Yes, yes I do.” She said, looking around.

As we talked with Alex and Ruby, I was angry. I was angry that Alex had to leave us to dance onstage. I was angry that as Alex sat with us, her fingers found the hem of her dress and tugged it just a few centimeters longer. I was angry at the male  employees lurking and watching the girls’ every move. I was angry that Ruby, an impossibly small 19-year old who is maybe 90 pounds soaking wet, had bandages on her arms and was clutching her leg, and still had come to work.

I was angry that Jesus didn’t just raze the place to the ground and carry us out of there. “Jesus, I want you here now. I want your justice now.” I burned.

When we neared the end of our time at the dance  bar, another squadmate, Natalie, leaned over and asked if we could pray for her arm. I relayed the question to Ruby, who smiled and said we could pray. I prayed for healing and protection for her, and when we were done, I told her, “We prayed because we believe in a God who heals people. His name is Jesus.”

She got excited, “Jesus! You are Christians! All of you?”

“Yes, we are!”

“Well,” she said in her spunky voice, “I like Jesus.”

I laughed. “We do too! We love him!”

Ruby touched her heart, and she might have been about to say something, but our group had to leave.

“You’re leaving!?” She cried, her face falling.

“We have to leave, I’m sorry Ruby! But I will call you tomorrow! Let’s hang out!” I said, which was met by the two girls’ excitement.

Ruby was almost bouncing as she said goodbye. Mallory hugged Alex and we told the girls we would call them the next day.

As we left Alex and Ruby, I couldn’t get the image of Ruby’s falling smile out of my head.

Today, we called them. Ruby was in the background of the call, chirping, “I love youuuu!” to us as Alex and Mallory figured out a meeting place. We decided on pizza and Hannah, Mallory, and I taxied to the touristy area of Kathmandu once again.
As the clock ticked past our appointed time, something my host had told us ran through my mind: “The young girls often live with the owners, and they are not as free to do what they want.” I cringed inwardly and started to pray, remembering the man’s voice who had answered Ruby’s phone that morning when I’d called her to ask her to hang out.
 
The girls were two hours late, but we didn’t care. When we saw them, looking like any other 19-year olds, with the bold eyeliner and high heels gone from the night before, our voices raised about ten octaves and we dissolved into a mess of happy squeals. They only had about an hour and a half until they had to be at work again, but we ordered pizzas and juices and talked to them. The girls are best friends, having met while working at the dance bar, and where Ruby’s English falters, Alex could pick up and translate for us. Ruby’s warm, firecracker personality and Alex’s intelligence shone in the way they talked about their dreams: Ruby dreams of being a nurse, and Alex wants to be a social worker.
 
“I want to be a nurse,” said Ruby, “But I have no parents and no money, and I dance.” Hannah, Mallory, and I nodded solemnly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more useless in my life. What could I do or say? She’d shared these hurts, and all I was doing was buying her pizza. I felt reminded of God’s justice and His desire for His children to walk in freedom, but I didn’t know how Jesus was working there.

I noticed that the big bandages on Ruby’s arm was gone, replaced by smaller Band-Aids.

“Did you go to the hospital?” I asked.

“No, it’s better today,” she said, rolling down her sleeve to hide the Band-Aids.

“That’s great! We prayed for that, remember?”

“Yes! I remember. Alex, see, they prayed for me last night and now, look!” she sang across the table, all smiles, rotating her wrist.

As we sat with Ruby and Alex, it was so clear to me that they wanted to love us–and we wanted to love them, too. They wanted to cut our pizza and serve it to us, and we would insist on serving them.  Ruby held my hand when we weren’t eating and gave frequent, happy hugs. Alex was quieter, but talked about herself so openly and invitingly. As we talked about movies, food, hobbies, and Nepalese culture, I realized that maybe this is how Jesus was working for today: an hour and a half of fun, encouragement in their dreams, and love. It didn’t feel like moving mountains, and Jesus didn’t raze the place, but Jesus knew what they needed for that day, and maybe for now it was as simple as taking fun pictures and being told they were beautiful.

“Are you coming tonight to our work?” Ruby asked hopefully. Alex brightened and looked at us expectantly.

Sadly, Mallory explained that we wouldn’t be coming tonight. Mallory, Hannah and I’s eyes shifted around the table to each other, the message between us clear: But we would love to. We would spend all night there if it meant you could just sit with us and be teenage girls, and not have to go any other customer.

“But let’s do something on Friday!” we suggested, and Ruby and Alex started to brainstorm. With plans made to meet on Friday, the girls had to leave to go to work. With big smiles and “I love you’s!” from all of us, hugs were exchanged. As they walked away and waved to us, I was smiling–but no smile could mask the hurt in my heart.

“Knowing where they’re going now, after we just hung out, makes me even more sick.” I said hollowly. Mallory and Hannah agreed.

As dusk fell and my friends went to work, I went to the Lord. I asked Jesus to be with them, to protect them, and keep them safe. And oddly, I felt peace. Remembering  the stage, the lights, the drinks, and the dresses in my mind, I knew Jesus would be with Ruby, Alex, and the customers. A dance bar might not sound like a place to see Jesus, but I think it is. I think Jesus would be right there with them, lifting up the girls’ heads, calling the men higher, and turning on the lights. If Ruby and Alex could go into that night of work with hope, then that was what Jesus had given them for the day–how he had worked through us that day.

The lunch date hadn’t necessarily seemed like earth-shattering ministry at the moment, but it was powerful for me. An hour and a half of Ruby and Alex’s day had been devoted to making them feel loved and safe; maybe it was more than yesterday, and if so, that in itself is a miracle. Tomorrow, Hannah, Mallory, and I will meet with them again! Our ministry hosts will be given their contact information, and we are praying that these girls will safely leave their dance bar.

As we taxied home, I felt a mixture of sadness, anger, and hope–sadness as I saw the lights of dance bars coming on and knowing I will never look at one the same way, anger as I (again) contemplated asking God to rain fire down on them, and hope because I know God is faithful. He would be with Ruby and Alex tonight, and every night. He would be good, tonight and every night. And ultimately, He would be sovereign and Healer tonight and every night. If I couldn’t physically keep them locked in my arms in a bear hug, I could send Jesus with them. And with that thought, I go to sleep at peace, looking forward to Friday and imagining Jesus at the dance bar tonight.

 

*names have been changed