One of the primary areas in Phnom Penh is called Watt Phnom. It’s down the street from the President’s house, not too far from their government buildings, and is the park entrance to a Buddhist temple, once Hindu temple. It has one of main roundabouts that shoots you out into each major area of town and is littered with Lexus’s and Range Rovers. Women sell jewelry, paint nails, and play with their kids in the grass medium that leads up to the park.
People from all walks of life venture to Watt Phnom: tourists, students, locals, and Buddhist monks. It’s both a meeting place and passageway. At the base of the temple is a 50-foot wooden snake that wraps around a 25-foot diameter clock. The thing is huge.
The average tourist wouldn’t know what goes on here. Frankly, I wouldn’t have known either if one of our contacts didn’t tell me. Mixed in with all the grandparents (mainly grandmothers), girls and women running around in pajamas, tourists taking picture of the giant snake and temple, students finding their way to school, is another industry. Another trade. This is part of the red light district. This is the day trade.
Those Lexus’s and Range Rovers that drive around the area often have temporary passengers that run up to the drivers side window. Others ride their bikes into the area to seem less conspicuous. Some are returning customers and others are first time visitors. You can tell by the look in the customer’s eyes or how he holds his head if this is his first time. These women aren’t alone, though. Their “pimp,” (I put pimp in quotation marks because organized pimping is illegal in Cambodia) sits within eye contact of the working woman. This pimp will probably go home with this girl or woman when she’s off work: it’s more often than not her boyfriend or husband. She does the work; he gets the pay.
Age range is all over the map in this place. There are babies that run around clothes-less while their moms work here, all the way up to 60-year-old women. The toddlers aren’t working, but they are unintentionally being bread and placed into the same system that birthed them. The women don’t have a way to take care of these kids, so they are forced to bring them to work. Even though they might not be in the trade now, it is very likely they will end up in it someday. The same trade the child’s mother is using to keep her kid provided for, to keep her kid out of, is the same trade her child will probably end up in. It’s the only work that the kid will ever be exposed to, so it’s the only option he or she might ever consider.
Yes, he or she. The sex trade isn’t only reserved to girls and women. In this particular area, the women are just more open about it. They run around the streets, up to cars, and next to men passing by hoping to get work. The boys, though, experience the trade in a more secretive light. At least in this area, the boys hide. They sit at the top of Watt Phnom, near the temple, where they can’t be seen. The boys who work do so out of sight and out of mind. For those who know what’s going on here, they still need to search for the boys. You have to know where to look to find them.
It’s almost like it’s unacceptable for boys to sell their bodies, but condoned, if not encouraged for girls to help their families this way. It’s almost as if it’s shameful for boys to use their bodies sexually, but not girls. Or maybe it’s just a “higher level” of shame.
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Well, we had the opportunity to partner with a local missionary and a former prostitute to bring the presence of the Lord into this area a few times throughout the month. Once a week we got to prayer walk the area. We asked that the Lord would begin to do a great work in the area. We asked the Lord to release women from the burden of providing for their families by any means necessary. We asked the Lord to restore the sanctity of life not only in the workers but also the customers. We asked for opportunities to share the Love of God, and His hope to those who were working.
After the end of the first prayer walk, our contact Rocky and I both felt like the Lord encouraging us to worship in the area. This doesn’t happen. A local missionary briefed us at the beginning of the month saying that evangelism isn’t looked upon too favorably in the area – that you don’t just walk up to people and ask if they are Christian or want to be Christian – and you don’t play instruments in public. So this suggestion by the Lord had to be fulfilled by the same source who asked it: the Lord.
A few weeks went by and on our last Friday we received the opportunity to play in the area. We set up shop at pavilion walkway, right next to the giant snake. We only had a few people who could speak Khmer and all of them were prayer walking and looking for opportunities to talk to people in the area about Jesus. So, part of my team, and another missionary team from America started playing. We asked the Lord that his music, his sounds of joy and freedom, would minister to the souls of people. We asked the Lord that the vibrations of the music would cut through the chains of sexual slavery that these girls, boys, and women were shackled in.
Photo Cred: Kirsten Hughes
We drew a crowd and had a great opportunity to share the gospel to some Cambodians who were at the temple.
About a week passed and after I entered our house for the month, Rocky approached me to talk about the worship time. He asked, “Hey Jordan, did you see that woman who we were talking to downstairs?”
“Yeah,” I told him.
“Well, she saw you guys worshipping last week. She was in the trade but wants out. She was standing up near the top of the temple looking down, and she could sense something different coming from you. Then she felt the Lord pulling at her soul. She felt something different. And she decided to leave the trade and give her life to God.”
WHAT?! (I didn’t say this part to him this way.) But are you for real?! Someone we didn’t say a word to. Someone we didn’t sit down to and explain the Gospel to, gave her life to Jesus without it being explained to her. She gave up her livelihood, the only job she has ever known, to follow and honor Jesus.
“And she has a group of girls who wants to leave the trade with her,” Rocky added. Then just smiled, said “Woow!!! Yeah,” and gave me a high-five.
The Lord did something that day (obviously). The Lord prompted us to do something that was illegal, something that was impossible. He then did something else that seems impossible and showed his character to someone without a single audible word being said to her. Sometimes it takes doing the impossible for the impossible to be done.
The Lord himself used the notes of our guitar and drum, and the sounds of our voices to be his words to her soul. He carried his love and freedom on the sounds that vibrated through that place to travel to her and meet her where she was. He then sent her out to offer the same freedom to others just like her.
