Another View from Angkor

As we trudged and sluffed through the dust, sometimes alone, sometimes with hundreds of tourists/ruin seekers we were often followed by children selling a variety of trinkets and souvenirs. Often barefoot, the youngest would run through their litany… "Lady, Mister…sell you postcard, 1 dollar, 2, 3, 4…”and then repeat the numbers in French and Spanish. The older adolescents and their parents could approach with scarves or cold water. It is often a family business with sometimes one or several families at the entrance of a particular ruin. But it is a business that can also come with great risk.

In a country (like many countries around the world) where so many live in physical poverty, that even five year olds have to work to support their family instead of going to school, surely the temptation exists to make quick money by selling your child for a few hours to make more than you might in weeks or months. I’m not saying it happens around Angkor but it does happen in many places in Cambodia and around the world. Perhaps these kids are safe at a World Heritage site, under their parent’s watch, surrounded by many tourists and officials but even the fact that they aren’t in school sets them up to be at risk in the future. Surely there is a high risk anywhere you find small, beautiful children, exposed in a predator’s playground. Duncan

What causes more offense? (Part 4 of Meat, Dogs and Skin)

Question. Which of these photos disturbs you more?

(Ok, this first one is just of clueless tourists who think they can roll out of bed and wear boxers around town...and specifically in the mall. I can deal, but really, could they not manage to dress up a little more?)

It's the next three that I really want to know about...

Hungry dog on the street...

Hungry homeless person sleeping on the street...

"Hungry" women for sale on the street...

These are the images and the realities of the Bangkok streets that I often cannot get out of my mind. Your thoughts?

Duncan

It really is a small world after all...

This past week has been all about friends and marveling at what a small world we live in. It began two Sundays ago when I met Iven and Kashmira at ECB on Soi 10 for church in the morning. (Andrea was still feeling a bit under the weather and met up with us later in the day.) We first met Iven and Kashmira through a mutual friend back in Seattle/Tacoma who told us that next time we were in Thailand we should look them up. When we were here in 2007 we did just that, peppering them with questions in a small coffee shop about how they ended up here and why and how they were doing what they were doing - and we have stayed in touch since. Iven and Kashmira came to Thailand initially to work with male sex workers in bars and on the street. Initially they were the only missionaries hanging out with and reaching out to male sex workers in Bangkok. They moved into a tiny room above a restaurant in a neighborhood close to a main loop where men work the street and have been there since. As a result a team has coalesced around them who have also moved into the neighborhood to love it and the people who live there. Their life together is really amazing with many stories that you can read on their blog. We hold them in very high regard and love spending time with them. If anyone would ask us what would Jesus do or what should followers of Jesus look like or how to live incarnationally, I think we would quickly point them in Iven and Kashmira’s direction. They love everyone they encounter, wrestle with hard situations, ask us good questions, listen well and always encourage and challenge us at the same time.

Last time we saw Iven and Kashmira was right before we returned to the US two and a half years ago. Long time readers of this blog will remember that Andrea became really sick and we were not even sure she would be able to get on the plane as most airports were screening for H1N1 at the time. Kashmira also became sick at the same time so we weren’t sure if we had passed it on to her or vice versa. Turns out it was neither as soon after we were back in the US we received an email from them saying she was…pregnant with child number one. In the two and a half years since we have seen them they have produced two adorable kids – Izayla (pictured above with Iven - winning some university students over!) and Elian – and have rented another room above them for their growing family! Anyway, we had a great afternoon with them. At one point in our conversation, Kashmira said “Hey, we know someone who you went to school with…”

Turns out it was Anne (or Nini as we all knew her at the time) whose family was also in OMF (my parents mission organization.) I went to school at Chefoo School in Malaysia and Faith Academy in the Philippines with Anne and her sister Fiona who was in my grade and who now works in Cambodia with her husband Dave. We were really excited to meet Fiona and Dave two and a half years ago when we visited them in Phnom Penh as it had been 20 years since I had seen Fiona. I knew that Anne and her husband Andy (and their four kids) moved to Thailand just over a year ago to explore their options here and was excited they had met Iven and Kashmira. A few facebook messages later and we had arranged to meet at Lumpini Park this past Sunday for the Concert in the Park that the Bangkok Symphony presents eight Sunday evenings in a row during the “cool” season. Andrea and I were already planning to go to the concert to meet up with Fern and Fink who we became friends with last time we were here. Fern just happens to be the pianist for the Bangkok Symphony.
So we arrived at the park this past Sunday and met up with everyone and then we were surprised when Anne introduced us to Kyle and Lisa who live above them and teach English in Bangkok. (photo above - Andrea and new friends listening to the Bangkok Symphony.) Kyle and Lisa had been introduced to us via email a few weeks ago by mutual friend Mindy back in Seattle who had hoped we would have a chance to meet up. Such a small world! We had hoped to meet but didn’t anticipate everyone’s lives intersecting! (This was the second time in a week that we had met someone who we were hoping to meet in such a random and unexpected way!)Anyway a grand time was had by all as we talked and talked, introduced ourselves and Nini and I began to catch up on the past 20 years. After the concert Fern, Fink, Andrea and shared a hotpot meal together (photos below). It was so good to hear about their lives and what is going on for them.


These two Sundays served as bookends to our “friend” week which also included two other "friend" moments. This past Tuesday morning we made sure we were up early in order to skype with our book group/small group that meets once a month back in Durham. Times sure have changed since the days when urgent news was shared by telegrams here in Thailand when I was growing up! (And all the younger readers now ask – what’s a telegram?!) We love being part of this group and are very grateful that technology continues to allow us to be part of it while we are here. (Pictured below - a few of our book group friends back in Durham before we left.)
Tuesday evening we had dinner with Roy and Bonita, wonderful friends who we also met last time we were here. Bonita runs a vital outreach and ministry to girls and women who want to leave the sex industry called Home of New Beginnings. They are both tireless fighters for justice and do so in a warm, wise and inviting way. Like Iven and Kashmira (though in a different age bracket) we hold them in high esteem for their efforts at bringing hope and transformation to those with little and those with much.

So this week has been an abundance of riches when it comes to friends and we are encouraged and grateful. We have a couple other Thai friends here in Bangkok that we want to connect with but that will be for another post. AND, although we spent a lot of time with friends this week, Andrea also started school which has gone well and that might also be a future post!
Duncan

Tell me what to do???

"I saw their temples and I lived in their cities
And I could not believe what took place all around me
I walked the streets and I rode their trains
And everywhere I went I could not escape the pain"

My old pal Sheila Walsh has an old song called Dorai Sani which starts out with the lyrics above. In many ways it is our experience as well. Really, no matter where we are in the world, if our eyes are open, this should be our reality. But this sentiment is very acute for us as we go about our daily lives even if we take away all the sex trade/human trafficking issues that are so overwhelming. Poverty shows itself in many forms. The least, last and lost are all around us. Most days when we walk to buy our lunch we cross an elevated pedestrian bridge across the busy road we live on. There are often three or four older people (seniors) who sit and beg there. One man disfigured and scarred by leprosy raises his tin cup to us as we walk by, his eyes drooping like a sad but hopeful beagle. Another woman has her leg amputated at the knee. She has an artificial leg but it is hard not to be moved by someone with a stained sock on her stump. I see her and often think of how my late Aunt Mary would have survived in this situation after she fell and could no longer walk. There is another man who isn’t scarred physically but his mind bears deep wounds. He appears comical at times but his jitteriness and awkwardness betray something deeper.

I don’t give money to people anywhere. There are too many people working a scam, too many having to work for someone who doesn’t treat them well. Many kids are trucked in by pimps to beg. So money for me isn’t an option. I will buy them food and I have for each of these three. There’s nothing heroic about it. It costs me less than a dollar. But it assuages my heart that wants to do something but doesn’t know what. I’m not the only one that buys them food. Other Thai do and many Thai drop coins into their cups they hold.

But is that it? Should I buy them something every time? Now can I walk on with a somewhat clearer conscience? I don’t know.

Tell me what to do???

And while you are at it, tell me what to do with the thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of women who are prostituted in this city?

And maybe you can tell me how best to love the men both tourist and local who buy their services. I love the Chesterton quote – “Every man who enters a brothel is looking for God.” It rings true. I’ve sometimes joked that I want to start some sort of outreach to the customers here – I would call it “Anonymous Johns” Catchy huh? Actually one of the YWAM missionaries here has started an outreach to Male Sex Tourists here in Bangkok – ironically named…MST. It is done quite well and they have a good response. But this is just targeted at the foreign sex tourists, who, though they receive all the press, make up only a small percentage (10-20%) of the customers here in this country.
Tell me what to do in a culture and country where it is expected and accepted that many men will have multiple mistresses and where the sex trade related income makes up such a staggering amount of Thailand’s operating budget. While no one can put an exact number on it, we have heard that up to 60% of Thailand's budget comes from this.

Tell me what to do with this?

One of my favorite things to do in the morning before we have our Thai lessons is to go up to the top of our building by the pool to pray and ponder and then take a quick swim. There have been several mornings where visibility had to have been less than a mile due to the smog and pollution. It’s not great for the lungs but makes for some fabulous sunrises and sunsets. One day it was particularly bad and I told Andrea around 6pm that it was going to be a great sunset, which it might have been had we actually been able to see the sun…set. Usually the sun hangs like a red ball in the sky. That evening we never even saw the sun it was so smoggy.

So what are we to do when the visibility is so bad we don’t know what to do? When we can’t see very far ahead literally or metaphorically? I guess we will try and simply focus on what and who we can see. So I will continue to pray and ponder in the mornings but if you have any ideas, tell me what to do.


Duncan

The Lotus and the Cross

Ravi Zacharias has written a short little book called The Lotus and The Cross, Jesus Talks to Buddha. The prologue to the book is a good set up to our experience and some of the issues encountered here in Bangkok…

"It is the first blush of dawn as I step into this long-tailed boat after haggling with the boatman for a suitable price. He has agreed to take me on a journey along the famed River of Kings. We wend our way through back canals that teem with life, dotted by the corrugated iron rooftops along shores that house a large part of this megacity. The morning air is fragrant with aromas ranging from lemon grass to fish sauce, all being prepared for the day’s consumption. Yes, the food here wins the palate of virtually every traveler. It’s people are among the most winsome in the world. The smile, the graces and the charms exude as in no other land. A carefree attitude toward life is writ large in the cultural ethos, and strangers make you feel very welcome, even when one may have just cheated you into buying a fake name brand watch or a pirated copy of the latest movie.

There is a reality here that compels me to ask some hard questions about life. Within this culture, the most reverent of expressions mix with the most unashamed abandon for the sensual. I see a monk walking in the distance, a bowl for begging in his hand, but I also see a man who spends most of his day waylaying tourists and seducing them with pictures to come visit a nearby brothel. He does that from dawn to dusk, seven days a week. It is quite a juxtaposition: the monk, austere and in pursuit of nirvana; the man, with a roguish smile, promising a different kind of bliss.

Here a cultural immersion would be impossible without visiting a host of temples – the Emerald Buddha, the Reclining Buddha, the Golden Buddha and a long list of others. But here, too, the newspapers sound a somber tone. The income from prostitution, they declare, exceeds the entire national budget. Here, drugs and AIDS have ravaged the population, and sincere politicians are trying desperately to deal with it. But this very city is exploited by money-hungry opportunists who bring in planeloads of men, promising them orgies to fulfill every imaginable craving.

And so as I sit in this sputtering boat, smothered in a misty spray, I feel nearly drowned in a sea of emotions. How does one talk about the eternal when both religion and riotous living argue that nothing is permanent? An odd mix of the glory and the shame of humanity within this microcosm ignites a series of difficult questions.

As we make our way down the canal, I cannot shake the memory of a newspaper article on the front page the previous day. It told the story of a young attractive woman who left home to earn a living, only to pay the heaviest price of all. At seventeen, young and beautiful Priya decided to head to the big city to work. Within hours of her arrival, the very friend who had enticed her with the promise of big money mercilessly raped her. Thus began a fourteen-year stretch of untold heartache and tragedy. [. . . ] She was soon being used and abused to deviant ends, only with a new twist – she was paid for satisfying their perverse pleasures. By the age of twenty-three she had become a full-fledged prostitute, managed by a handful of thugs who shared in the spoils.

She discovered that she was HIV-positive. She could not discontinue her lifestyle, for she needed the money to treat her disease and hang onto life. Hardened, calloused and almost vengeful, she continued to sell her services to hundreds of customers, including bankers, businessmen and doctors, of whom she kept a detailed record. She knew she was signing each man’s death warrant, but she was drowning in despair, and her life had lost all value.

Eventually she could no longer hide the disfiguring marks of her disease. Blisters blanketed her body. She resorted to desperate methods in search of a cure. She made numerous attempts to kill herself, only to fail each time. Finally Priya poisoned herself once more, and this time she set the house on fire and lay down for the last time, enshrouded in flames. Her once beautiful body was reduced to ashes. No one would even come close to her charred remains for fear of infection. She died alone. And not far from her others played the same deadly game, thinking that this same end would never be theirs. "

He goes on to ask the question – What Lord Jesus, would you have said to Priya, had she brought her decrepit body and aching heart to you? And what would Buddha have said to her, this being a land where 95% of its people are Buddhists?

It’s a small book, published in 2001 if you want to find a copy. I thought the introduction laid a good foundation for the beauty and devastation that we see in this city.


Duncan

12

Andrea has written a couple posts about the ‘Massage Parlor’ Brothel next door to us. This isn’t a tin shack by the side of the road but a large windowless three story building with a footprint about 100 x 60 feet. Its parking lot holds 30-40 cars and there is plenty of room around back to park although many men come in taxis. This is one of the smaller of the ten massage parlors/entertainment venues within a mile of us on the road we live on. Here’s my take on what we see outside our window.

"12"

Morning
An older woman washes the clothes
Treated with such care
Always the same clothes – sun dresses and short shorts
Flags flutter in the breeze
The sign reads
Always cheap – Always Good

A fruit and vegetable truck pulls up by the back door, barred and locked
A girl in a red dress reaches through the bars to buy some oranges

Inside
the fishbowl
the girls wait

12 Noon
The gates are unlocked and opened and the first cars pull in
The dresses and short shorts are dry and pulled off the rack
So are the girls

Another shift

12 Midnight
Taxis wait to take the customers home
Dogs wait
A six year old boy waits, legs swinging from a chair outside the back door


Psalm 52:1-7; 58:1-3; 83:1-3; 62:11-12


Duncan

The Girl Next Door. . . is Locked Inside a Brothel

Our living room window looks down on a large three story building. This building has no windows and from 12pm until 12am the parking lot is full. It is one of many brothels of this size in Bangkok, but is advertised as a massage parlor and coffee shop. We have only ever seen one woman go in and we have never seen any come out. A few days ago, Duncan heard a truck selling fruit (they advertise with megaphones) down by the railroad tracks behind our building. By the time he reached the truck it was parked by the back entrance to the brothel. A woman in full makeup and a red ‘working’ dress was buying some vegetables and fruit through the barred and padlocked back door. These are not women who have a choice.

It is ironic to us that the brothel strictly obeys the regulation that states opening and closing times of entertainment venues but that it completely ignores that prostitution is illegal let alone its abuse of human rights. Everyone knows what this building is. Everyone. And it is not supported with the dollars, euros, or yen of foreign men. This is Thai supported as is the majority of prostitution in Thailand.

There was an op-ed piece in the Bangkok Post several weeks ago where the author, Voranai Vanijaka, implores his fellow Thais to stop tolerating injustice. It is titled No More ‘Mai Pen Rai.’ ‘Mai pen rai’ loosely translates into English as ‘nevermind.’ You hear this all the time. It is closely tied to the Thai concept of ‘cool heart’. Do not get angry, don’t show frustration or anger. While several cultures could take some cues from this and limit anger over trivial things, I’m afraid that this concept has permeated everything in Thai culture to the point where there is an unhealthy level of apathy. Sometimes there is a righteous anger required in the face of injustice. Every culture, nation, and person (including me) should remember this.


Here’s an excerpt from the No More ‘Mai Pen Rai’ article:

“That seems to be our attitude. We don't express outrage. We don't demand justice. We don't monitor action. We just sit back and let the authorities pay lip service to having an investigation, then a few months later everyone forgets about it. Mai pen rai.

We Thais have it easy. There's fish in the sea and rice in the fields. When we run out of fish in our sea, we just fish in other people's seas and either get kidnapped by Somali pirates or thrown into prison by Burmese authorities. But that's okay, mai pen rai. They are just poor people.

Mind you, this attitude of mai pen rai, this cancer of apathy isn't just confined to just Thailand. It's a worldwide plague. However, at least to my knowledge, no other country has ever used "mai pen rai" (or the apathy of a culture) as a proud tourist attraction. There are even books written about the beauty of the "mai pen rai attitude".

Dear people, this mai pen rai attitude, for the sake of our King, our country and for the future of our children, we need to stop it. We really do.”

Read the full article at: http://www.bangkokpost.com/opinion/opinion/12098/no-more-mai-pen-rai

Andrea

P.S. The pictures are as follows: 1 & 2) the women's work clothes hung out to dry, 3) A graffiti message on a bridge overpass in Bangkok

Bangkok, The City of Angels

How do you describe Bangkok?

In trying to write this post I’ve sat here and looked at a blank computer screen for 20 minutes.

How do you describe any city?

In my work with Northwest Leadership Foundation, Center for Transforming Mission, and other influences like Pastor Ron Vignec, I’ve learned to recognize cities as living, breathing things much loved by God. And much like each individual person reveals something unique about the character of God, cities (as conglomerates of people) can reflect Godly traits and personality as well as the way people fall short of their potential.

Bangkok is a city of between 10-12 million people. The official census says 6 million but for many reasons, including how census questions were asked, this is not accurate. Over the last four trips to Thailand (this time being my fifth) I have come full circle with Bangkok. My first trip to Thailand (when Duncan was testing me out to see if I could love Thailand and thus if I was marriage material :) ) we walked outside of the airport at midnight tried and failed to find a taxi so we took the only available vehicle option - two motorcycle taxis. My taxi sped off into the night with one of my hands tightly grasping the handhold on the back of the motorcycle and the other arm hugging my suitcase to my body, trying and failing to make it more aerodynamic. My driver, having heard Duncan speak Thai assumed that I could also and kept turning around and asking me questions that I believe were about our destination to which I couldn’t answer. We sped along on a 4 lane road, deserted except for food carts being pushed home and then. . . an elephant (with his/her mahout) ambling along. While there were many other events and feelings (namely the sheer busyness and chaos of this huge city) that threw me into culture shock in the following days, I think this story of my first ten minutes of introduction to Bangkok summarizes it well. The first time to a new country is incredibly overwhelming if you don’t understand customs, culture, religion and language.

The second and third times that I visited Bangkok were through my work at Northwest Leadership Foundation. These trips provided an excellent opportunity to partner with another organization on excursions to experience, see, feel and hope for Bangkok. Finally the last time I was here was on vacation where Duncan and I spent one week in Bangkok exploring and meeting up with people who call this magnificent city home.

These trips were building the foundation that I have come to rely on now. Living in this city (even for a short while) is and will be an amazing adventure. As with any honest relationship, I love Bangkok and I hate Bangkok. There is a kind of indescribable beauty here that I have not experienced in other cities but this is coupled with some of the ugliest and darkest things I have ever witnessed. There is a heaviness to Bangkok that cannot just be attributed to its humidity or chaos. This heaviness, I believe, is directly related to Thailand’s and more specifically Bangkok’s position as a center of human trafficking and its huge sex industry. Thailand is not alone in harboring people (traffickers, pimps, mamasans) who make a living off of selling others, in fact, I think you would be hard pressed to find a country that did not harbor, willingly or not, such individuals. However, there is a difference here. Thailand for the most part tolerates these injustices, especially the sex trade. Like most evils of such magnitude in any country, it is accepted (because what can be done?) or at best it is ignored. These are blanket statements that do not accurately reflect the heart of every Thai person, but as an outsider, the blatancy of the sex trade speaks volumes.

Prostitution is illegal in Thailand, but walk down one of the notorious sois (small road) in Bangkok and you will pass beside bars and brothels that house 1000’s of prostituted women, children, and men. It is not hidden, in fact it is advertised, sometimes with glossy menus set up outside the brothel, not listing food but tricks.

How do they operate so openly if it is illegal?
Bribes, economics, lies, desperation, apathy, indifference. . .

Eventually this blog will have many postings on Thailand, some silly, some showing great beauty and innovation, some day-to-day descriptions of how things work, but I feel it is accurate to start out our thoughts on Thailand with the background on what consumes us the most and will receive many more postings – the sex trade (and human trafficking).


Andrea