I noticed the way her eyes changed. That when she was loved, she took note. She stood up straighter. She smiled more.
She transformed.
And I was such a broken version of love to her, my friend.
Their eyes- they were tired and broken inside when they didn't think they were loved.
And I thought, If only I could love deeper and longer, harder and better.
But when I dug to the bottom of my heart I found that I didn't have all that much to give.
How do I grow this? I asked myself.
It was a chance meeting.
"What are you doing in Asia?" read her
Facebook message to me.
I explained my purpose: "I'm just touristing
and doing a bit of learning on sex trafficking in Thailand and Cambodia."
"Wow!" she replied, "I work with
women in the sex trade!"
...
Cassie is a brilliant, bright, and bold person.
As I met with her, our conversation easily flowed from our mutual time at
Briercrest College, to justice and social work, and onto matters of the heart
and loving people. We talked about community. We talked about
Cambodia, her now home for now, and we laughed about the fact that it took us
until Asia to connect and really have a conversation because she was a
basketball player in College and I was the artistic introvert.
How funny how roads lead us to places we'd never
expect!
Meeting people in random places.
Of course I peppered her with questions.
And then my breath was stolen and my stomach was
punched in the gut by her responses. Because how can you listen to
stories about children who are being trafficked without feeling this way?
...
And as I started writing this blog, I had to take a
break. It's so hard to interact with this material and to really feel it-
to really feel it- like its your blood and water.
It haunts.
But this keeps gnawing on me to write.
So write, I must.
For them. The young ones. The one's who
have a little voice, but need it to be so much louder.
...
I think of my friend, Cassie, and I love the
way her smile lights up a room and the way her laugh dances. She's got so
much joy and life and she's bringing it to these girls.
So although I speak of pain, I speak of hope.
Because many children play in the courtyards of
Destiny Rescue, Cambodia, are free from a life of sexual exploitation and getting
the help they need.
Cassie is a Reintegration and After-care Manager who will be eventually relocating to India this summer. However her time with
Destiny Rescue has taken her to Thailand and Cambodia (where she currently
resides). The clients, who
are more than just victims, but survivors of child exploitation, are mainly 11 to 21 and are amazingly resilient.
As we scooted down the road on
her Moto for a second I could imagine life in Cambodia as if I never
knew Canada. She took me
to a trendy coffee shop because coffee is always a good idea with a
friend and a deep conversation to be had.
I pulled out my journal with 'little-kid' print on
the front and we get down to the grit of it.
"So why are you in Thailand?" this good-looking guy from England asked me and I paused, wondering if I should say the real answer or just give one of those glitzy traveller quotes, "I'm a hippie and I love travelling and I'm pretty cool..." (or something like that).
But the real answer? People don't want the
real answer because they'd rather not think about it. It's uncomfortable
and odd and vulnerable all at the same time.
I paused and then I went for it.
"I'm taking social work," I began,
"and I'm really interested in helping people come out of sex-trafficking.
I did some research and found that sex-trafficking is a pretty
huge problem in Thailand and so I thought I would connect with some
organizations here and learn a bit more about it."
There is was.
I'm the biggest nerd with a huge heart and I travel because I want to learn about social justice issues and make
a small dent in changing the world.
"Cool," he said, nodding along. I
don't know if he really thought it was cool or if he was just humouring me.
Either way I smiled and let the moment pass.
...
I recently sat down with a lady from Nightlight in
Bangkok, Thailand. Nightlight is an organization that helps women who
have been trafficked in Bangkok. We met at a cafe in the middle of the
city with a few other girls who were interested in the organization.
Sitting there waiting for the informational 'tour'
that I was going on, I felt small and naive.
I have so much to learn.
I immediately noticed how friendly everyone in the
cafe was and how the atmosphere seemed to be surrounded by love and respect.
Later a lady walked in with a friendly smile, greeting each of the staff.
They chatted a little about their day and it was the warm relationships
that I noticed between them that drew me in.
She would later confirm that the coffee shop also provides
alternative employment and job training for some of the women in the industry.
As we sat upstairs the lady continued to vibrantly
speak in her Australian accent, engaging with us in her welcoming manner.
"Nightlight is all about relationships,"
she told us, "We don't ever say to someone, 'You have to leave
prostitution and then we will love you. We just have an open door.
Everyone is loved."
She explained about some of the programs: the
Outreach centre, Job Training, The Bakery, Jewelry, and Apparel. These
programs were giving these women hope.
And she told stories.
Stories about girls in Uganda who were tricked into
coming to Thailand for better opportunities. Stories about women who
learned to trust their Trafficker because their Trafficker spent 8 months being
their friend before convincing them to move to Thailand. Stories of girls
who (new to the industry) were trying to desperately cover up because Thai's
are very modest. When they were thrust into the industry they were made
to wear things that made them extremely uncomfortable.
She talked about
how many Thais look down on those with darker skin.
She told me women from Uganda are often mistreated because of the color of their skin.
She told me women from Uganda are often mistreated because of the color of their skin.
She talked about the beginning of prostitution in
Thailand.
"During the Vietnam war soldiers
would come to Thailand in their off time to relax and have sex with the girls
here," she explained.
Racism, culture, religion, and
history intersected.
I was left sitting there, trying to understand.
The brain can't fully wrap itself around that kind
of thing. Not really.
Later on we went to see where some of the other
businesses were run. We met a few of the women employed by Nightlight.
There was hope there. There was light.
For 45 women, many of whom had chosen to leave the bars or work in the red light area, and were
now with Nightlight, there was hope.
For the women who have been repatriated back to Uganda there was hope.
"We receive messages from them," our informant told us,
"they are doing well."
...
Later that day I bought some of the jewelry the women had created and were
selling and I went home to my hostel brooding over what it means to have
worth and dignity as a woman.
I've experienced shame and worthlessness in my
life, but never to the degree that some of those women on the streets of
Bangkok, Thailand have.
I'm glad for organizations like this one which
provide a way out and a way of overcoming shame, that are making strides in
showing Jesus' love, and who are persevering in innovative ways to help those
who need it.
 |
| Angkor Wat |
Travelling always gives me perspective, as if I've been going through life in a fog going, "Same, Same, Same," everyday.
The routine of everyday can get so narrow and small.
I can't see a freaking thing outside my little box of this tiny life.
And it's all about me.
This, "me, me, me" world.
Often I just need to be shaken up, dropped on the head so to speak, given a little life to life resuscitation. And with a gasp I finally breath. Like its the first time all over again.
Getting away from it all- the life I left behind for a while- I can see it like I'm gawking at my own Zoo and I'm the animal in it doing these weird routines and calling it life. Life is a Zoo. It's complicated and diobolically outrageous. And its wonderful all at the same time.
But I get so caught up in it.
Emotions.
Moments that come- and seem so big- and then pass.
Looking at it all from the outside, it seems to simple.
Just know God and love him like heck.
And after that just love people.
If only this was the easy part.
Because loving God above all else, I've learned, means sacrifice.
And loving people- well sometimes that gets messy.
"I've got this," seems to be my mantra. Until something in me cracks.
How humbling.
I don't.
I don't got this.
God's got it all. I've been seeing all the sights, taking in the millions of people- tourists and locals alike- who are all a part of this and it makes me feel small. Because I am small. Going to places like the Toel Sleng Genocide Museum in Phnom Penh and seeing how thousands were killed and tortured gives me perspective.
I've got it good.
I always do. Even when it seems the world is crashing down, from here it doesn't look so bad.
Perspective.
 |
| Room in Toel Sleng prison |
I went to see Angkor Wat today in Siem Reap and it was aesthetically and architecturally pleasing. I love architecture. I read a bit about the history and I kind of shrugged my shoulders.
Here I am at one of the greatest temples in the world- I actually think it's the largest temple in the world and I'm kind of like, "that's nice."
And I walk around and pretty soon I'm pulling out "The Purpose Driven Life", a book on seeking God's purpose. And I'm walking around the grounds reading it, because my God doesn't dwell in a temple made by human hands (Acts 17:24). He dwells in me (1 Cor 3:16).
Perspective.
The kind that kills these moments, or creates them.
You decide.
And I'm kind of half here in Cambodia and half at home in my Zoo asking myself, "How do I live when I get home?"
In light of eternity. In light of how small I am and how Big I NEED God to be.
In light of all this- and I've only mentioned a few of the things I've seen and learnt.
How do I live like I am awe-struck by the gospel all over again?
How do I love people so it changes them?
How do I learn to fight for justice- because everything innate in me is not a fighter (or is it?).
And I think about my Zoo at home. I love my Zoo and as inperfect as it gets, it's still my little world with all these people who are full of so much worth. Every. single. one. of. them. This is what I see when I look at it from the outside.
And I think to myself.
What a God who can create all of this world and put me in it.
I'm excited to return to my Zoo with new perspective.
There's a time for this.
For the looking in on the Zoo from the outside.
There's a time for it all.
For loving and clenching and unclenching fist.
Learning.
Being out of routine.
And there's a time to go back.
And love.
And live.
With new perspective.