Huh?
It was our second night of ministry in Thailand… all eight of us were in a bar together, the first one for many. The story of how we got into that bar is a story for another blog. We were all sitting together, having ordered our Cokes and starting conversations with the waitresses.
The bar itself was sad in a pathetic, desperate sort of way. We’ve never been in there before, and because the entrance is covered by a curtain, we’ve never seen the interior from the outside. Dated, plastic decor covered the walls and ceiling. A stage with poles ran the length of the room – and was completely empty. At the far end was a small stage maybe five feet wide. A girl in a black dress stood there, barely moving to the 80s rock music pouring from the speakers.
We all sat together on the “J shaped” bench seating. I sat on the end, towards the middle of the “J”, next to my teammate, Aimee. I turned sideways because less than a foot away from me was a Western man and a gorgeous Thai woman in a red dress. The back turning was my attempt at body language to say to the man, “I’m not going to get in your space; not going to hassle you,” and to the woman, “I’m not competition.”
The thing about these trips to the Red Light District is that we see a lot of men. And it is so clear that they are hurting just as much as the women – that they desperately need to know that God loves them too. However, our ministry is to the women. We can pray for the men we see, feel for compassion for them, and if they speak to us, respond kindly in a way that closes the conversation. We are not to seek out conversations with them, because truthfully, the best people to minister to men are men.
So I had no intention of talking to this man.
I had no problem with him, none at all. But he’d paid money to spend time with the Thai girl next to him… a living, breathing person. Interrupting could damage our new relationships with this bar staff.
So I turned my back and leaned forward, trying to listen into the laughter of my teammates.
That’s when I heard him speak to my teammate, “Excuse me, how long is her hair?”
Um… I definitely had that moment of, Did I hear that correctly? What do I do? Do I talk to him?
When he repeated himself, I did the only thing I could think to do – move some of my hair over my shoulder and half turn (the opposite direction, so that my body language was still closed to him and my back twisted to its max) as he asked, “How long did it take to grow it that long?”
Perfect time to get my team leader and friend, Connie, involved. I caught her eye and acted like I couldn’t remember, “5 years? Right?” Silently communicating with her, “Hey, this is happening. I’ll follow your lead if you want this closed.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer. I relaxed again as the waitress brought my Coke. We toasted to the King (of Kings!) and I offered her a friendship bracelet. Tying it on her wrist, I said, “Pra Yesu Ra Kuhn” … my best attempt at “Jesus loves you” in Thai.
The man beside me jumped in and translated for me, telling me a better way to say it.
Did you catch that? He told her the gospel.
“Thanks,” I said. Knowing Aimee beside me was part of the conversation and that Connie was watching (thankful for years of friendship and the silent conversation we had going back and forth during this whole time…I felt free to respond if he spoke).
“No problem. So, why are you all here? Are you friends?” he asked.
“We are…” I gestured to the group. “We’re in Bangkok on vacation. Having a great time, experiencing the culture, and telling everyone we meet that God loves them.” I said the last part knowing it usually is a conversation killer in the Red Light District.
“Oh, that’s good…” He nodded as his voice trailed off. “Not that I believe it for myself, but yeah. I’m William*, by the way. William from Scotland.” (His name wasn’t really William, but being from Scotland, what better fake name could I give him? FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOM!!!!!! Sorry, couldn’t help it).
“Nice to meet you,” I shook his hand. “I’m Kristen from America.”
Again, I thought it was the end of the conversation. After all, there was a beautiful woman sitting next to him. And for the record, her hair was longer than mine. I kept wanting to tell him to pay attention to her. But William kept talking. I think he was lonely for Western conversation. I just kept staring at the empty stage in front of me. When “Great Balls of Fire” came on, several of my teammates started talking about Top Gun with the waitresses.
I learned that he’d been in Thailand for 8 years, having followed a Thai girlfriend here, who I gathered he wasn’t with anymore. Now he had a dog (showed me a video of her smiling in order to convince me that she had the best smile in the world) and saw no reason to leave. He writes for cinema, and enjoys the bar we were in because they play 80s music (he was 40 years old). Then he gave me some tips and history on both the Red Light District and the bar we were in. When he learned I haven’t travelled much in the States, started telling me stories about my own country. Around the time he started telling me about a place called “The Grand Ol’ Opry” in Glasgow, Scotland, Connie motioned that it was time to leave the bar.
Time to leave it all out there. The moment I began praying since telling him why we were there. I looked him in the eye for the first time:
“William, it’s been great talking with you. And I completely respect what you believe. But I want you to know – God loves you too.” I held my breath.
He paused for a moment. “Thank you,” He nodded. “Yeah, like I said, I don’t believe it for myself… But you know, I’ve been wrong before.”
As we all stood to leave, he looked at my teammates. “Keep sharing your message. It’s a good thing.”
*Photo by Connie Rock of us with our three friends after leaving the bar
So, I completely missed the conversations with the women in that bar. Have no idea what happened. And honestly, the rest of the night was kind of a blur. Because I can’t stop thinking about William – a genuinely nice guy, with (let’s face it) an amazing accent, and most importantly, a desire to be loved. Hopefully he wasn’t hitting on me, being that he was sitting next to another woman. It was definitely the first time my hair has been an intro into sharing the gospel. But I’ll take it. Whatever works.
Will you pray for him? Pray that William believes God loves him?
