Stepping outside the hostel and onto the road it’s quiet. Walk one block down and suddenly you are bombarded with tourists, bars, massage parlours, souvenirs, vendors, and woman. The smells of smoked meat, fish sauce, fresh fruit, and alcohol fill the air. Music blares from every bar and shop covering American classics to the latest top hits. Distractions of people to look at, crafts to inspect, food to drool over, tuktuks to dodge, pot holes to trip in, or shops to walk into overwhelm the introverted.
Then, there is the women. Women who stand outside of every massage parlour or bar trying to drag you in or entice you over. Some are actually women while others are men dressed in drag. Their dress is minimal and their makeup is heavy and they are all looking for work.
Bar moms and pimps force them outside of the bars and massage parlours to bring business in. They stand to the side watching carefully and forcefully directing the women. All the money goes through them and they don’t allow anyone to take up the girls time without a profit. It is them who care for the girls and even have name tags with numbers made for the girls to keep track of them and the profits.
Men line the streets as well, except they aren’t there to work, but buy. They come from all over the world with different ages and languages, yet most are white and western. Some are young and reckless while others are established and old. Some wear the traditional polos and kayaks, while others model their Thailand tanks and shorts. They walk the streets with entitlement and hunger looking past most distractions until they have find a bar or massage parlour with women in it. There, you see them entertained by the women being caressed, flirted with, and touched. Some of the women seem to love it while others lack an interest in their customer. Some of the women don’t even have to do much of the flirting or the touching, for the man helps himself.
You see it is what the man is there for; he is paying for it. As a matter of fact he has traveled all the way to Chiang Mai for this. The place where woman can be bought and used for any amount of time as long as they are paid for and working under a title of ‘waitress’ or a ‘masseus’.
It all happens every night, again and again. The more the men visit, the more the women work, and the more the bars and massage parlours thrive. The women make money and the men get their fix of ‘love’. It is infuriating…yet, within every woman and man of this Red Light District, devastation and brokenness speaks louder than any distraction, any music playing, or any woman enticing a man into a bar.
Living a block away and being in the bars and massage parlours nightly I couldn’t ignore it. Grief, sorrow, and hopelessness hangs in every corner of the streets and shops. Pain and abandonment echoes from every wall. Abuse, neglect, and betrayal follows behind each man and woman. They are all so deeply hurt and lost.
The darkness isn’t just overwhelming. It is intoxicating. It has impaired the vision and judgement of many and blinded the addict. It doesn’t matter what end of the sale the people are on; they are all same affected by lies, pain, and loneliness.
I started my month in Thailand with a lot of information about human trafficking and prostitution. I knew about the bars and massage parlour, the old white men, and the young used girls before ever showing up. I have met trafficked victims, watched documentaries, and prayed for organizations who combat it against. Thus, when I sat in our orientation this month I wanted to know how to love these men and women in person, and the first piece of advice I received was not see them as “Projects, but Children of God.”
This statement wrecked me.
As teammates struggled with anger in the bars, I struggled with deep grief. I pondered questions about what had happened to these men and women. I wondered who had deeply hurt them or abandoned them. I thought about the abuse they may have went through and the infected wounds of betrayal that have never healed. And, suddenly I was angry too, but not towards the people but the enemy.
He was the one who worked out the deep wounds in the people of the Red Light District, blinded them from the truth, and encouraged them to march through life hurting themselves and others. It was the enemy where my fury was placed, and the hope of Jesus that lead me to love these children of God each night.
Entering the Red Light District, I was no longer concerned with the situation, the evil, the lies, but the people. I came to listen, to love, and to receive anyone who desired it. Granted, not all wanted it, received it, or accepted it, but some did unravel at the kind offer to be heard and validated. Friendships were made with the girls and men, and some did appreciate the Father’s love and grace they received. It was a month of the Lord opening my eyes to His grace and compassion.
This new found sight came with interceding tirelessly and believing in the hope to come. By understanding more about unhealthy coping mechanisms and sin that stem from deep hurt and lack of belonging. By remembering the value of knowing we are loved, have an identity, and a calling on our lives and by what happens when we run away from Him. It came with remembering what Christ did for me.
Walking through the Red Light District I learned to give grace, pray, and love people well. As grace overtook more of my vision I no longer cared about the sin they were choosing or the hurt the suffered in, I cared about the beauty of grace that covered it all and the possible futures of redemption through grace.
Working in these bars set me up for life, interacting with these women and men changed me forever, and Grace impacted me deeply. I never thought it would be possible to love a man who buys a woman or have grace with a woman who sells her body, but I could with Jesus in mind.
Jesus gave us grace to be close to the Father. He looked pasted our sin and carried us out of our pit if we took His hand. And, for those who have still not noticed His invite He sits patiently loving us still.
The best part is that this new found vision isn’t just for the Red Light District of Chiang Mai, Thailand, it is something to take back home to my family, work, church, and school. Grace filled eyes and compassion are needed everywhere we go if we want to love people like Christ and meet them where they are at. I no longer what to be the rescuer, the fixer, or the enabler…I want to be a friend and a good steward of grace and compassion. I want to not only see but meet people where they are at in coming to the Lord’s table. I want to remember how these Bars have indeed set me up for life!
“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith— and this is not from yourselves,
it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.”
Ephesians 2:8-9
Ladyboy Ashley, Rachael, and I on our last night in Chiang Mai
