It takes a taxi and a sky train (BTS), but finally you step off into downtown
Bangkok. You’re assaulted with smells from the curbside vendors, who are selling anything from fresh pineapple to fried bugs. There are always tons of people on the sidewalk that you have to squeeze past. Most of them are men, and most of them are white. They are heading in the same direction, for very different reasons. You’ll walk up a few blocks, and then you see it…the side street that looks like a carnival, or something like an Asian Las Vegas. Bright lights, dance music, and bars everywhere. There are girls, some in their mid-twenties, some younger, crowding the walkways outside the bars, wearing next to nothing. They are beckoning you to step into the bars, and further on into the areas that are hidden by curtains. They flip their hair and smile at you, but if you happen to catch a glimpse of them before they see you coming, you will see the truth. They are scared and ashamed, suffocated by the sights and sounds as much as you are, desperate to be anywhere but where they are. But as you pass, they brighten up almost automatically, and assume the sexy role of the seductress that will make them money. You lock eyes with one of them and smile from somewhere within yourself where love resides, hoping she feels that you ask nothing of her and don’t require a show. It’s brief, but you trust it to do what needs to be done. Pressing on, you keep your eyes straight ahead for the most part, unless you are smiling at one of the girls, so as not to seem interested in what is going on in the shadows all around you.
There are middle-aged white men occupying barstools all around you, some with tiny Thai girls on their arms or in their laps, feigning interest. Some of the men are just there to watch football and have a drink, and they have paid to have a companion for the night. Some are obviously new to this whole scene and are trying without success to pretend that this is something they are used to. There is a group of younger guys huddled around a group of bar girls, throwing money up in the air and laughing as the girls fight over it as it falls to the ground. They feel like movie stars, and by their appearance, you know they have never had this much female attention in their lives. Then there are the men who you avoid looking at all together because they are giving off such a creepy vibe that you don’t trust your own emotions. They are the ones in the corners with the most innocent looking girls, taking advantage of this lewd and obscene atmosphere, unashamed and preying on the weak and broken. You start to shake your head and glare, but then the thought hits you: He’s just another one of God’s lost little boys.
So, you move on, focused on the real reason why you came tonight… the girl at the bar with the hollow smile. You sit on one of the empty bar stools and a few seconds later she is by your side, a slave to her responsibilities. She asks what you want to drink, and you order water. It takes a few seconds for her to relax, because she has learned to be wary at first, especially of women customers. You engage her in conversation, with questions such as her name, how long she’s worked here, and if she has kids. The general response is yes, she has kids who she is working to support. You ask if she has pictures of her kids and she smiles proudly and runs off to get them to show you. You have photo time, then you ask her about her life. She tells you that her husband or boyfriend abandoned her with two kids awhile back, and then her mom got very sick. Her kids are now staying with her sick mother up north in one of the villages. She has recently come to
Bangkok to provide for her family. She tried to sell purses at the markets, but it wasn’t bringing in enough income for survival. She met a girl who wore nice clothes and seemed happy who said she could show her another way to make money.
She was repulsed at first when she realized what would be asked of her, but what other option does she have? There are mouths to feed, and after all, it will only be for a little while until she makes enough to move back to the village. So she sits at the bar every night, waiting for a “farang” , or white foreign man, to come along who will fall in love with her and sweep her off her feet and out of this lifestyle for good. So far she has met no princes, only empty, corrupt, and lonely men who are trying to use her body to solve their own problems and forget their own feelings of inadequacy. Some are even cruel to her, and most make empty promises that she hasn’t learned to distrust yet. Slowly, her innocence and carefree spirit are being broken and she is becoming a victim of someone else’s lust and her own addictions.
You’re reason for coming is to lighten the mood and just have a conversation. You want to know her, for no other reason and with no other agenda then to make her understand that she’s worth knowing. You don’t show her pity or do anything to cause her more shame than she already feels. You simply sit on a bar stool, sip your water, and love her. When the night is over, you feel strangely energized and joyful, which can seem impossible after a night in one of the most vile places you’ve ever been. The devil is obviously running rampant in this dark corner of the world, but you walk out smiling, fully confident of the fact that your Heavenly Father knows her name. He will rescue her, because that’s who He is. It’s all in His timing. Until then, you will go back night after night because this is what you want. You miss the girls during the day and can’t wait to get back to a place you would normally never agree to go. But you will go back because she’s worth it.
