I really felt like I needed to do something a little different tonight. I had it on my heart to just sit and watch and observe. I wanted to see the unseen things that nobody takes the time to notice. I wanted to look beyond the surface.
We decided to return to Nana plaza tonight to find the girl I met Friday night. When we found her, she was sitting with an English guy having a drink. When she saw me, she immediately turned her back to the guy and greeted us. Not only was she happy to see us, it was obvious that she did not really want this guy’s attention. She was glad for the distraction.
We said hello and the usual small talk, but I felt very awkward. The guy was obviously annoyed and began groping her backside as she talked to us. She pushed his hand away and said he was naughty. I felt so bad for her. Imagine what it would be like having strangers just grab you wherever they want all night long. It was so incredibly demeaning and disrespectful.
I could see that she was embarrassed and ashamed. She didn’t want us to see that. I could also see that he was playing games because he was annoyed. When I told her that we could come back later when she wasn’t busy, she said “I am not busy” and continued to ignore the guy grabbing her from behind.
She said she had to go upstairs and wash her hair; that seemed random. I told her that we were going to sit down upstairs and talk, and asked her to come and find me when she goes upstairs. I’m not sure if she understood, but she walked into the bar, so we headed upstairs.
The third floor at Nana has barstools that line the balcony. It is usually pretty empty up there, so we sat down to pray and talk a bit. It is a good place for observing the people that work the upper floors. They also sit around on the barstools.
On the second floor, there are people cooking and eating outside the strip club entrances that line the balcony. The girls sit together in little clusters, eating, talking, or just smoking. I can only presume they are dancers on break between sets. They are not looking for customers, they are just waiting for something.
As I watch them across the way, I see that same blank and vacant stare that I have seen so many times. There is no laughter, no smiles, only empty eyes. They do not really connect, and they are not really friends; in fact, they are competitors – vying for attention.
They don’t gather because they want to be together, but rather because they don’t want to be alone. I wonder, what do they hear or see when they are alone that makes them fear it? For some people, solitude brings rest; for others, it is tormenting.
As much as these girls want the company, they can’t really be friends. To be friends, you would have to care about the other person. You would have to care about the horror they are living. And to do that, you would have to confront your own horrors. It is just easier to remain superficial. Their friendships are as shallow as the smiles on their faces when they greet the men that they abhor.
I turn my attention to the third floor. In the corner directly across from us, there is row of girls being primped and prepared to be put on display. There are makeup artists and hairstylists attending to them. I see so many others, constantly applying the powder to cover up the shine caused by the heat and humidity.
They walk around adjusting their little dresses. Pull it down to expose more cleavage, then pull it up a little. Push this up, pull that down… it is a never ending process. I think it is a bit compulsive. So much of their identity and worth is tied up in their appearance. There is so much pressure to perform. Their success is dependant on their ability to be noticed above all the other girls.
They are passed by many times every night, for another girl in another corner of the bar. Rejected, compared, and judged for their appearance. The thoughts, “Am I beautiful?” and “Am I enough”, circle through their mind over and over. The answer they most likely hear in their mind is “No, you are not. But she is.” The devil is good at that.
My eyes once again shift, and I notice a girl that has just come up the steps with a man at her side. As they walk towards us, her eyes are vacant. Her head is tilted down in a posture of uncertainty, her eyes averted from everyone around her.
Her body language tells me that she doesn’t want to do this, but she has resigned to do what she thinks she has to do. You can see the anxiety and dread all over her face, and the felt need to meet an expectation that goes against her will. I have to, it’s my job, it’s what I am here for – is what I imagine she feels. I’ll just put on a smile and pretend that it’s fun. I can choose my attitude – right??? It’s not so bad. It will all be over in a little while. I can hear those lies; I know those lies.
Something else catches my attention as I look at the ground level. Two girls in schoolgirl uniforms, leaning against a pole. How long have they been here. Are they new to this? The reason I wonder is because they look scared. The one girl is standing with her arms folded across her body in an embrace.
She looks ashamed, frightened, and like she wants to puke. Without realizing it, she tries to comfort herself with a hug. She needs love, she desired affection but not from these men. She knows their touch and words are empty 0 she desires more but it is out of reach. She doesn’t know how to receive it any other way.
She hates where she is, but the fear of leaving is almost greater. She wants out, but the fear of the unknown keeps her trapped. There is comfort in knowing what to expect – even if it is horrible. “It could be worse” is a tool of bondage.
My friend never came to find us, so we decided to head back down. She was not at the bar either, but our other friend was. Ironically enough, she was having a drink with the same guy we interrupted earlier. She also turned her back to him to greet us. Funny. I guess it was a bad night for him, but maybe the Lord is doing something there. I pray that He is.
We talked a little and then said goodbye the night. On our way out, we passed my other friend. She had just returned from washing her hair. She is always so excited to see me. I love that girl. We talked for a little, then she had to get back to the bar. I told her I will be back another day, and we parted ways for the night.
I really want to take these girls out and spend some good time talking to them about why we are here, and the options they have if they want to leave the bars. And, I just really want them to know they are my friends. They need to know we love them, and that God loves them enough to send us here to find them. God, please set them free.
