"Dancing" is a job requirement for all bar girls. This gal is very modest in her dress.
My first night at the bars was quite the sensory experience- the neon lights were slightly blinding, I had to shout over the blaring music to have a conversation, I couldn’t walk anywhere without being bumped into, the street smelled of an interesting combination of human waste and fresh flowers and my palette had plenty of Coca-Cola by the end of the night.
The populace is also quite interesting. The majority is single men, all shapes, sizes and ages. Then there are the tourists, some in tune to the happenings around them, some completely oblivious. Throw in the random families, couples, street vendors, Lady Boys (transgendered men) and modestly dressed American girls and you’ve got yourself a typical night on Bangla Road.
"Johns" come in all shapes, sizes and ages.
Our mission is simple: build relationships with these women by loving them. Every night, 1,500 women in Phuket sell their bodies in order to provide for their families. They are use to being taken advantage of. They expect to be used. They have little to no self-worth.
So what happens when a group of girls stops by their bar and actually want to have a conversation with them? Some one who will look into their eyes, call them by their name and ask them about their family…
Hope begins to rise in them. Instead of being seen as something for sale, they are seen as a person. They feel like a real human being, and that’s what they are. Underneath it all, they are just women trying to survive in this world.
My teammate Kristin attempting to teach our new friend a few English words. Clearly we have no fun…
I have yet to met a girl who likes her job and wants to be there. In Thailand, the woman is given the responsibility of providing for her family. Most of the girls in Phuket come from northern Thailand under the false pretenses of working in a hotel. Their families gladly send them off with a one-way bus ticket. After two weeks of fruitless job searching, she has no money, no family and nowhere to go… except to the bars. And there is money to be made selling your body.
Though the money may be “good,” the effects are devastating. You can see it in their eyes. They don’t want to be here but they feel responsible to fulfill their family duties.
Relationships are formed through conversations over a game of JACKPOT or Connect 4.
I found it fitting that the last song playing as we exited the bars the first night was entitled “Take Me Away.” As we exited the bar, a gal working the bar behind me ran up and grabbed my arm. She put her hand in mine and sang the chorus of the song.
“Take me away…take me away.”
I know the song wasn’t written about taking girls out of prostitution but seeing this girl’s eyes has given me renewed strength for the month.
Keep in mind I can count on one hand the number of bars I’ve been to in my life. This scene is not where I would choose to be. I’m the girl yawning as we load up the truck to go out at 9pm. I don’t know what half the drinks are on the menu (good thing we can only order sodas) and going to bed at 2am sure cramps my style…
But these girls want out and don’t know how. I’m here to love them, to give them hope and a choice. If we don’t meet them where they’re at, who will? This ministry is not easy for me but these women are desperate to be taken away. Please join me in praying that we can take them away.
One of my new friends.
**I can attempt to describe a typical night on Bangla Road but I think this short video clip does more justice than my words.**
