The illegal trade of human beings is something we at Adventures are passionate about ending for good. So this January, Human Trafficking Awareness Month, we’re telling real-life stories of people who have been trafficked, bringing awareness to their plight and hopefully an end to the trade.
On his last week of the Race, Wayne Mask and a squadmate from 2015 Q Squad went out to unwind and process the last 11 months. Thinking they’d found a quiet place to kick back, they had no idea they’d walked into a bar where women were being sold for sex.
It was Final Debrief, the last week of the World Race and a time for all 50 of us squadmates to come together and worship, share, and reflect on the past year.
After 11 months of living among the poor and the needy (physically and spiritually), living in community and out of a backpack, and getting new ‘homes’ every few weeks, Final Debrief was where we could all rest and feel normal for a few days.
Debriefs were also the only time we got to see people who hadn’t been on our team for the last few months. I always sought out Scott in particular. We’d never been on a team together, but even so, he’d been a kindred spirit since the moment we met at training camp in August.
So in usual fashion, we got together to unwind and catch up. We scoped the streets in Vietnam for a quiet place to sit and have a drink. It took a minute to find somewhere that didn’t have flashing lights and a club vibe, but we did end up finding a little hole-in-the-wall bar with only a few people in it.
It seemed like the perfect place to sit for a while, so we went in, sitting in a small row of booths that ran parallel to the bar. We ordered, then began to process the last few months: What has your ministry been like? How have you liked it? What has God been up to?
Our drinks came and we settled in.
After a few minutes a man walked up to us and asked in a smooth and casual way, “Should I bring some girls over for you?”
“Wait, what?” Scott and I looked at each other. “Of course not!”
The man shrugged, walked away unflinchingly, and left Scott and me raising our eyebrows at each other in shock. We looked around more carefully. Then I wondered, how could we have missed it?
There was a 50-year-old man sitting at the bar ten feet away, leaning into a 20-year-old Asian girl, laughing and whispering in her ear. She wore a pink dress a few sizes too small. His hands gently rubbed her bare back. The guys a few booths down were also sitting with a handful of Asian women.
As I looked back at Scott, he read my mind and said, “Let’s pray.” We bowed our heads and he started, “Father. . .”
That’s all I heard for a while. My spirit raged inside me and I felt an anger swelling like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My eyes were closed, but I could still see that old man’s fingers. I could still see the way he rocked in his barstool, drunk and nervous. I could sense the hunt and his anxiety.
Then I heard Scott say, “Amen.” It was like a psychiatrist snapping his fingers after hypnotizing someone. I jerked back into consciousness.
“Scott, what do I do, man?” I knew I had to do something! But I couldn’t think of anything. What could I do to bring healing? To bring peace? To bring God glory? I wanted to punch the man in the face, shake him, and yell at him, “This is evil! It isn’t love. It isn’t affection! It’s not REAL! What are you thinking!?” But that wouldn’t have fixed anything. He needed God’s love just as badly as anyone.
I sat there shaking, wanting to pay my bill as quickly as possible so we could leave. Scott asked me if I was going to say anything to the man and I told him that I had to. I got up and walked over.
I walked to the bar and placed my hand firmly on his shoulder. He quickly turned to me and I said, not as confidently as I would have liked, “Can I tell you something?” I pointed at the girl. “A night with her is fleeting, but Jesus loves you, man, forever.”
He looked at me the way a dog might look at you if you started barking, tilting his head to the side a bit and raising one eyebrow.
But all he said was, “Thanks.”
And then it was over.
It happened so quickly that I can’t remember anything between “Thanks” and being on the street with Scott.
I left feeling like a wimp and a hero at the same time. For a moment I thought, “I wish I could have done more, but I did something; I’m good, right?” It was that same kind of feeling you might get if you said to the cashier at a drive-thru, “I’ll buy the meal for the car behind me, but only if it’s less than ten dollars.”
Looking back on it, to that man in the bar, I must have been something like a pop-up window that he just closed and kept going. I didn’t deter that man. I didn’t save that woman.
When I got back to my room, Codie, my wife, said something to me. I don’t remember what it was, but I know I snapped at her. I was so angry. We lay down in bed and had one of those “it’s not your fault” moments that Robin Williams and Matt Damon had in Good Will Hunting. She broke through my anger and held me as I cried what felt like emasculating and helpless tears, I-saw-evil-and-couldn’t-stop-it tears.
Sex trafficking is real. I fear that some of us are too far removed from it to allow it to sink in. But that day, my last week on the Race, I saw it firsthand, in a way that will always be seared into my soul.
At least 35.9 million adults and children are bought and sold worldwide into commercial sexual servitude, forced and bonded labor.
About 2 million children are exploited every year in the global commercial sex trade.
It happens in Vietnam, and it happens in America. It happens under neon lights and in dark corners, so pervasive that it’s not a “big deal” to see it out in the open like I did that day.
I saw it happen right in front of my face and I’ve struggled mightily with my inability to help. I feel like I should have done more.
But the truth is, what I did was enough in that moment. The Bible says God’s word doesn’t return void. Whether it stopped that man that day or will in the future, I don’t know. But I believe I was faithful to what God told me to do.
One thing we can all do is pray and intercede on behalf of the exploited and trafficked. We can contend for justice and healing by supporting organizations who are helping exploited women. We can be educated, aware, and ready to share God’s love with all those involved.
*first photo by Codie Mask
Are you fed up with the sex trade? Do you want to be a part of seeing it end? CLICK HERE for 2016 Race routes to areas of the world where human trafficking is prevalent.
Or, if you feel God calling you to a short term trip to areas of prevalent human trafficking, check out 6-month Beauty for Ashes trips HERE and short term trips to Thailand and Cambodia!
