Worth Fighting For
I met Lea* last Thursday. She's 20 and has been working in the bars for a year. She has a ten year old sister and works on Bangla so that she ...
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I met Lea* last Thursday. She's 20 and has been working in the bars for a year. She has a ten year old sister and works on Bangla so that she can put her sister through school. She taught me how to play jackpot which I won, once, and we played connect four about a thousand times. I won, once. These girls have serious talent with these games. We talked about favorite colors and what she wished she could do. We talked about why I was drinking coke and her friends and family. When time was up we left the bar and I hugged her and said I'd see her again.
Monday we stopped by Lea's bar. As I walked up the steps her back was turned to me. Suddenly I heard a scream and was smothered in a bear hug and "Where've you been?!" Kristen, Jayda, and I sat down at the bar they started talking to another one of our friends there and Lea came over to me. She hugged me again and said "I'm so sorry my friend, I'm already drunk tonight." (I hear that a lot). I assured her that it was ok, that I knew she was working.
Time out. Let me give you a little bit of a view of life for a bar girl on Bangla. Most of these girls come from the north, they live in poverty and Asian culture demands that they must take responsibility for the well-being of their parents and other family members. So they come to the cities like Bangkok or Phuket hoping to find work in a hotel. With their poverty level, lack of training, and minimal English they usually find it impossible to find work. But they have a strong need to provide for their families so they end up walking into the bars. Now, a lot of girls have no idea what they are walking into. Once they start they learn quickly that they do not get paid for working at the bars, instead they only receive money when they manage to get bought for the night. In which case the purchaser must pay the bar manager a bar fee and then negotiate a separate price with the girl.
Because of the necessity to sell themselves every night most girls are drunk by eleven. Some earlier, some later. If a girl is good at her job she can make large amounts of money, much more than working in a hotel. She sends the money back to her family, often withholding details about where she is working. Once she is there for awhile she is trapped, her family becomes used to a higher income and most times they just will not let her quit. On top of that the girls become used to more money. It's a greedy cycle and the longer they are on Bangla the emptier and more numb they get.
Back to the story, I sat there and drank my coke, played Jackpot, and talked to another one of our friends. I'd watch Lea, my friend, walk over to a couple guys and attempt to sell herself. When it failed she'd walk over to me, put her head down, hug me and apologize. "I'm so sorry I I'm drunk. I'm so sorry I'm working. I don't want to." After a few seconds, she'd stand up, turn around, put on her fake smile, and head over to the next group.
And I was angry. I wasn't angry at her. I was angry that she felt the need to be drunk that night. I was angry that we couldn't just sit down and laugh and play connect four over and over knowing that she'd beat me every time. I was angry that she hated what she was doing but was still able to fake it. I was angry because I'd seen girls at home all the time with that same show face that they use to cover up what they are feeling. I was angry because every time she failed to sell herself she heard "you're just not pretty enough." I was angry because later that night I'd listen to men tell me that "there is no hope for the bar girls." I was angry because I listened to people say "those prostitutes" or "girl" and I just wanted to stop them and say they have names. And stories. And favorite colors. And I was angry because Lea couldn't leave without living with knowing her little sister was never able to finish school.
We made a date to go to a Thai barbecue with our other friend, I wrote down Lea's phone number, and told her we could go to lunch sometime.
Bangla Road is a dark place. It's filled with injustice and greed. It practically screams hopelessness at you. But Jesus is there. And Bangla is changing. Almost everyone we talk to comments how fewer people are coming each year and how it is getting more expensive. And we will keep moving forward, we won't check out. Because despite the ugliness of life on Bangla, there is good there. There is hope. And I have friends there. Who smile and hug me and ask where I've been. Who make fun of me for only drinking coke but have a sincere joy behind their eyes while they're joking. Who turn and see me and are filled with relief that they can just talk and play a game or two of connect four for twenty minutes. Who are still amazed when I tell them I came to Thailand to talk to them. Just talk to them.
This Lord of the Rings quote sums it up well:
It's like in the Great Stories Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't even want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end it's only a passing thing, a shadow. Even darkness must pass, a new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those are the stories that stayed with you, that meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why but I think Mr. Frodo I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding onto something.
What are we holding onto Sam?
That there is some good in this world Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for.
And I will hold onto that. That there is good in Bangla, I see it every night. And I know, without a doubt, that it is worth fighting for.
When you wake up in the morning, we're heading out to Bangla for the night. So pray, pray that hearts are open and lives are changed. Pray for easy conversation and accepting bars. Pray for the girls there. Pray for Lea. Pray for the men. Pray for the little kids and the twelve year old boys that come on vacation with their families. Pray for the street vendors.
Hold onto the good, and fight for it with us.
*Lea's name is changed to protect her identity
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