Today, while waiting at CVS, Connie nudged me and said, “Did that man just say he was in Thailand?” I looked up to watch an older man, dressed in a tropical print shirt, tell the pharmicist all about this “restaurant” he visited while in Thailand…the name of it isn’t appropriate to be printed on this blog.
It’s one thing to be in Thailand and see Western men and know the reason why 60% of them are there. It’s another thing to be in your in your town in the hills of North Ga and stand in line behind one of those “tourists”.
Kind of brings it home…literally. This isn’t just something we go and try to minister in on the other side of the world, or even in a few “hotspots” in the States. This is as close as the corner drugstore.
On the way to India in August, we had a 24-hour-layover in Amsterdam… one of the “birth places” of trafficking. It’s been documented there since the 14th century… and it runs, legalized, literally at the doorstep of an ancient church. Connie posted about it on her blog, and I wanted to share it with you as well. Here are her words, and pictures, of what we saw:
“Excuse me…what does XXX stand for?… I see it everywhere here and maybe it doesn’t mean what I think it means.” At this moment I was standing in the middle of a tourist souvenir store in Amsterdam, and had just had my picture taken standing in a pair of very large wooden shoes.
“That’s our second most asked question.” The clerk said. “Here, write this down. It stands for Determination, Courage, and Mercy.”
“Oh, ok…that was unexpected. What’s your first most asked question?”
“Where is the red light district?”
“Ahhh…so, where is it?”
“You are 2 blocks away.”
We walked, dodging other tourist, bikes, trains and very small cars 2 blocks towards the red light district…and pulled out my camera. I began to pray. Lord, what do you have in store? Can we make a difference in such a short amount of time?
The day was gloomy. I don’t like gloomy. It was raining, and my camera does not like rain. (Nor does my hair). I was running on little sleep and I could feel the weight of what laid around the corner. Besides wooden shoes, the city flag, the XXX on everything, pubs and bars with their colorful advertising and the last day of the Gay and Lesbian Pride week – there are sex shops, and shows everywhere. You can’t help to think that there is more to the connection to the city’s sex tourism reputation and the XXX on the cities flags etc… It’s a sad place. A heavy place. A dark place. It’s obvious.
And then…before you know it, while standing in an alley leading to a beautiful church, you are taking pictures of beautiful flowers and see movement ahead. You look up to see a floor to ceiling window and a woman standing in it. A red light shining over it… and your eyes meet. Oh no, I hope she doesn’t think I was taking a picture of her. I didn’t look away. I wanted to tell her that she is loved, she is beautiful, she is worthy…and then she slipped behind a curtain. I wonder…Do thoughts count?
I turned away from her window to see the “Old Church”. This church is famous because of its age and location. It was agreed by the church, that as long as the women worked inside and were not standing in the door openings they could do their “business”. As the years went by the curtains opened more and more. And with the less strict sexual morality of the sixties and seventies the tolerance towards prostitution increased. In 2000, prostitution was legalized!
We spent hours walking and even riding a rickshaw around the area. Snapping pictures where we could. Taking it all in…allowing our hearts to break and praying for redemption and freedom. No laughter and few smiles.
Something about the church in the Red-Light District… aware of what was happening just a stone’s throw away, really bothered me. What was it? I wonder if they are in denial of what was happening. Impossible! Do they agree with it? And the biggest question, the one I don’t have the answer to, but the one that keeps me awake at night, and keeps me praying for the women and men, teenagers, children, and ladyboys across the world who are not nameless or faceless to the One who made them, keeps me wondering what I can do to help… no, not help, to change things… to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to those dark, red streets and into the Light that does not fade or flinch, the Light that reveals, gives life, and breathes hope into a dying world:
Why?
