It was our last night in Bangkok. The following morning we would be loading up all of our bags, again, and traveling on to Cambodia for the next month of ministry.
Dan, Ben and I had decided to go out since it was our last night and they wanted to get tattoos before leaving Thailand. I decided to tag along as there would be market areas and food. Seemed like it would be a chill, fun last night in Thailand. (And we all know those spontaneous trips end up being the best adventures.)
The three of us set off with Ben & Dan's translator. I had never been to this area before, but Ben had gotten his dreadlocks done there when we first arrived in Thailand. After taking two buses and a taxi (getting there took longer than anticipated), we finally arrived at our destination. Khao San Road.
Khao San Road appears to never sleep. There are neon lights lining the street, lighting the way to restaurants, bars and shops to get tattoos, dreads & piercings. The sidewalks are covered by venders, a makeshift market, selling anything from jewelry and clothing to all kinds of trinkets, souveniers and art. In the road itself are carts with a variety of street food: noodles, rice, spring rolls, soup, fruits. It's a party street, a place where travelers from many countries go to drink the night away.
When we arrived at about 10:30pm, we had to weave our way through the throng of people to find an ATM and a tattoo parlour. The shops were enticing, but we were there for a purpose, so we sought out a reputable place for the boys to get their tattoos first, stopping only once to buy a present for a team member.
I stayed with the guys as they got inked, photographing the process and results. Afterwards, Ben wanted to get the roots of his dreads fixed. At some point while Ben was in the chair, Dan and I decided to venture out into the street to peruse the shops and maybe see about some food. We bought some noodles and delicious spring rolls from a street cart for about $1 USD each.
As we continued down the street, we saw them. Three young girls, the smallest probably about 8 or 9 years old. The tallest girl might have been 11 or 12. They were selling roses.
At this point, it's about 2am. In the States, girls of this age would be asleep in their beds… homework for the next day of school in their backpacks… lunches packed and ready to grab out of the fridge on the way to the school bus in the morning. But not these little ones. They are working… and there is a great possibility they have either been stolen from (or sold by) their families.
We walk up and say hello. The oldest is mildly indifferent. The middle one looks a bit scared and doesn't say much. The smallest one, however, bounces right over, a big smile on her face and starts speaking in English. "What's your name?"
I bent down to her eye level and replied, "My name is Nikki. What's your name?"
She fiddled with my earring and answered with something that sounded like "Baby" and told us the names of her friends as well. She chatted with us for a minute or two, mentioning that the roses are 20 baht (about 64 cents USD) a piece and they have to sell them all before they can go home to sleep.
"How many do you have to sell?"
"One hundred." The middle girl was carrying the armload of flowers and it looked like she had about half that left. I didn't have enough money to buy them all, though my heart desparately wished that I did. It was my last night in Thailand and I had gotten rid of most of my baht by then.
I purchased a handful of flowers, giving her one of my last 100 baht bills. (a little more than $3)
They all said thank you and Baby trotted off down the street, quickly getting lost in the sea of people.
As we set off on our way back down the street to see if Ben's dreads were finished, my heart became heavier for not being able to do more for those girls, for not being able to just straight take them out of this situation and give them a home, a better life… one filled with love and the freedom to just be a child.
We were almost back to the shop when I saw Baby walking back down the street. She spotted me, ran up to me and gave me a big hug. As I set her back down, she smiled and said, "See you again tomorrow," and disappeared into the crowd.
Tomorrow.
Even if I had bought all of her roses tonight, I thought to myself, she would still have to be out here, in a crowd made up of mostly drunken foreigners, again tomorrow. And the next day… and the day after that. I looked at the street full of people, starting to thin out at 2:30-3am, absolutely filled with a deep sadness.
And my heart broke.
