Same Same… but VERY Different

This is a common phrased used among Thai people and is now a part of my team’s favorite things to say. This phrase is fitting for how I would describe myself and the prostitutes I saw on Bangla Road after ministry Tuesday morning.

Let me explain, usually my team will go to Bangla from 9:30 p.m. to 12 a.m. to do ministry, which usually consists of prayer walking the street, talking to various bar and ping pong (strip show) promoters, and women in the bars. We’ve done this for the past 3 months, it’s been wonderful and eye opening, but leaving Bangla at 12 a.m. leaves a lot of the night with a lack of ministry into the morning hours.

Mark, our contact for SHE, asked us to do a different kind of ministry. When the bars begin to close at 2 a.m., there is a shift in the atmosphere on Bangla. Bar girls go from selling drinks and flirting with tourist, to realizing that they desperately need to make money. What’s the best way to make money? Sell yourself for night to any tourist who will pay for you. Mark asked our team to go out onto Bangla and the streets of Patong to minister to these desperate women between the hours of 2 a.m. and 5 a.m.

Here’s how it went. We went to Patong on Monday evening around 6:30 p.m. to prayer walk the streets, it’s like priming the streets for God’s spirit to be moving over the city and preparing the night for ministry. We went to the beach and worship for an hour with our iPods, it’s just you and God on that beach singing aloud for all the people who walk by to hear. We went home and slept from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. and then headed to Patong to do ministry. I parked the truck and we began to walk the streets. We prayed fervently over the streets. Asking the Lord to bring his redeeming spirit to this city, to raise up an army of laborers for a harvest, to rain down his love on these people, to recreate this city for his glory. We walked for hours praying and observing all that was going on.

When we walked down Bangla, I felt a pang of empathy move in my heart for these women who sell themselves, who walk these streets every single night looking for a man to take her home. She is harassed by drunks and seen as an object.

I was walking down the street when a drunken Australian tourist grabbed me by the shoulders and loudly said to me, “Ah, you’re not a Ladyboy! I can tell you are a women.” I began to lift his hands off my shoulders as I reassured him that I am indeed a women and not a transvestite, I assume the ladyboys had bothered him earlier that night. He moved and hugged me from behind and then kissed the back of my neck. I flinched quickly, while Katie, my team leader grabbed to removed him. I shook him off of me and walked away feeling my personal boundaries violated. That kind of situation pales in comparisons to how men treat the women on the streets. These men are so drunk and belligerent, they often have no concept of respect and morals for people around them. 

Around 4 a.m. the largest bar on Bangla was finally closing and asking customers to leave. Katie and I stood on the sidewalk watching and praying over the various scenes of Bangla Road. Prostitutes opposite of us on the street were waiting to be bought, there was men escorting women back to their hotels, vendors selling roses to women who are finally bought for the night, people stumbling over each other and running into parked cars.

The night was winding down when two drunk American men approached Katie and I. They were hesitant at first because they thought we were Russian prostitutes waiting to be bought for the night. They asked us if we knew where to buy some food. They were shocked to find out that we were actually American, and even more surprised when we told them that we were there because we want to see the sex industry on Bangla Road end. That we have come to show these women that God loves them and that they are priceless, worthy, and beautiful. Little of what I said to him actually got through to him as he continued to flirt and invite me to go eat and hang out with him during the rest of his vacation. The thing that hit me hardest was when a flower vendor came up to us and asked if he had bought me yet. I smiled politely and said, “No, I’m not for sale.”  I felt like an object.

Ministry finally ended and I was beyond thankful to lay down in my bed that night.  I thought of the prostitutes that night, how similar our experiences were that evening , how people stare at you and make assumptions of what you are there for and what you’ll be doing that night. So yes, it is “Same Same”, but very different between me and her. The difference rests in the fact that