We finished ministry for this month a few days early. After packing our bags and cleaning the classroom we lived in, our wonderful hosts picked us up, packed the cars and drove us to Chiang Mai, with a pit stop to ride elephants and go bamboo rafting. We have done and still have many adventures planned. This morning we went to a cafe so we could get pictures from each other and write blogs. We had tentatively planned our day and it included hanging out at the Cafe for a few hours, a 3D art museum (like street art, where it is painted on the ground, only here we can act like we are part of the paintings) and the Chiang Mai Night Bazaar.
Our squad leader, Esther, who has been living with us this month has friends from home that just moved to Chiang Mai last week and she got brunch with them. We had been at the Cafe for less than twenty minutes when they invited us to lunch and waterfall swimming with them. As is the norm on the Race, plans change more often than I change my clothes, and before I knew it we were leaving the Cafe, on to the next adventure.
After stopping by our hostel to grab swimsuits we went to their house to get their truck. They asked if we wanted to do a quick prayer walk through the Red Light District since it was on the way and we unanimously agreed.
12:20 PM.
The Red Light District is dead.
It is eerily quiet.
The bars are all empty, the street is empty.
All you see is the occasional person cleaning up and getting ready for tonight.
Although the Red Light District is vacant, it is still heartbreaking.
It still makes me want to scream and cry and punch something all at once.
This family is working with young pregnant women who have just been rescued out of prostitution. They will be teaching the girls trades, giving them a place to live and providing childcare while the women are in school or working. Some of the women and children will live with them. Another family from the States is here, too, and they have a couple girls and their young children living with them as well. When we asked how old the girls are they said some are thirteen.
THIRTEEN.
Pregnant.
Used.
Broken.
But still worthy of love.
We talked off and on about prostitution and trafficking most of the day. We ate lunch IN a river and swam under waterfalls, we adventured, we laughed, but my heart was still breaking.
We ate pizza at the other family’s home. It was incredibly wonderful to be in a Christian family setting again, one where worship music was playing in the background in English. One where we could laugh and talk as friends, instead of missionaries. There was a little girl running around making us laugh and babies being passed around and loved on. Young women, these babies mama’s, were coming in and out. After seeing brothels earlier in the day it was incredible to see girls who have found their way out of those situations.
We moved furniture from one room to another because they had just gotten a phone call saying a small family needed a place to stay. A mom, her fourteen-year-old daughter and two-year-old son. The mom had just found out her daughter had been repeatedly raped by the father’s friend and though they escaped the situation, had no where to go.
After moving furniture we hopped into the back of the truck and drove back to our hostel. We prayed for our new friends and the incredible ministry they are doing, said goodbye and then headed up the many stairs to our rooms, talking about going to sleep. Once we got upstairs we decided we wanted to go the Chiang Mai Night Bazaar – a really huge market – and decided we may as well go at that very moment.
On the way over we decided to walk down the exact same street in the Red Light District that we had walked down earlier and continue praying.
9:30 PM
The Red Light District is alive.
Bar signs flashing.
Music playing.
Girls dancing and pretending to enjoy themselves.
White men everywhere.
Young. Old.
Skinny. Fat.
Attractive. Unattractive.
As we walked, we prayed.
I prayed that the Lord would break every chain.
I prayed that He would burn the places down if He had to.
I prayed for freedom.
I prayed that these men would get their acts together, because even if they don’t believe in God they should sure as heck know that buying someone for their own pleasure is WRONG.
I didn’t always know what to pray, so sometimes I quietly sang worship songs to myself.
On that one street – spanning about six blocks – there are at least eighty brothels.
EIGHTY brothels.
Each brothel has anywhere from five to twenty prostitutes.
Anywhere from 400-1,600 people being sold daily, on ONE street in ONE city.
Women, girls, boys.
Some of the boys and girls as young as seven years old.
Transvestites, women, girls who looked no older than ten. We saw them all.
Even if people were just walking down that street to go to the Night Bazaar, like we were, I was furious with them, automatically thinking the worst. Men have never looked so unattractive to me in my life.
I saw one man who had to be about 65 walking down the street with his arms around a girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen. He looked happy as could be. The girl on the other hand; I took one quick look into her eyes and broke. Her eyes were lifeless and sad, staring at the ground.
Then there was a young man, about 25, talking to a girl in the bar. She was talking and laughing, pretending to enjoy herself. I heard him say “I have to go find my friends and tell them I found one, then I will come back to get you and we can go back to my place.”
Excuse me? “I found one?!” Who would ever call someone “one” and what kind of friends would be okay with this? Sick. Disgusting. I wanted to punch the man right there.
As I walked down the street, I have never been more heartbroken. I have never seen how great of a need there is for a Savior until I saw their faces. I have never felt so helpless. What can I do? A 22 -year-old woman who is only here for a day and a half longer. I can pray but somehow it just doesn’t feel like enough.
I wish human trafficking was non-existent.
27 million people in the world are being sold and used, for the profit and pleasure of others.
In Thailand, but in the United States of America as well. It’s easier to not think about it when it is across the world, but it is in OUR country, in OUR States, in OUR cities.
Please join me in praying for the end of human trafficking.
Pray that these women and children would see their worth and know that their worth doesn’t come from their current job, but that their worth comes from God, the One who created them and made them beautiful and wonderful.
Pray that this will end. That people will stop denying that what they are doing is wrong, but do something about it.
Pray that Westerners will no longer come here for cheap sex, keeping this horrific business alive.
It’s horrific, it’s wrong, it’s appalling.
But it is also an opportunity for Jesus to win.
An opportunity for Him to swoop in and steal the show.
It is an opportunity for us to show HIS love to HIS people.
It’s an opportunity to pray and to raise awareness, so join with me!
