Beautiful light.

I have so many things to say in this blog. I'm really not sure you actually want to read it. This will be my processing method, so of course it will be chaotic and probably really unorganized. This will be the only way of expressing with words what my eyes viewed, so it will be heavily judgmental and probably a bit angry. This will be pretty raw, so be prepared to hear true words...you may know me a little better after this, heck...I may know myself a little better after this. Anyways, shall we?


I'll begin at the beginning of all of this crap...

So we left for Thailand to relax (for a few days at least) and then head to Bangkok to see how that city operates. First issue:  our flight got pushed back...only by a couple hours, but we weren't told. We found out once we tried to board our 9:30 flight, only to be told we fly out at 11:45. No big deal. So we sit for a bit longer (forget that we could have slept a few more hours). We fly to Dhaka, Bangladesh. Second issue...we arrive to be informed by all the frantic Indian people that our connecting flight doesn't actually have a plane to fly us on. Yep, that's right. This airline scheduled a flight for which they had no plane. So what happens? Well, our Indian friends who are very obviously perturbed, scream/yell/shout and eventually have the airport grant us ALL transit visas for Bangladesh, pay for a hotel room for each party, and provided dinner. Ladies and gents, I now have a stamp from Dhaka, Bangladesh on my passport. I dined in the city...me and the team dined at a table with three Indian men that we do not know; during this the electricity cut out multiple times. That was fun. We go back to the airport, board on the plane that now exists (10 hours late) and head to Bangkok. We arrive at 3:30 A.M. Yep. Third issue:  Erin's bag is not at baggage claim. That girl has great strength and can most definitely explain this situation with a bit more agitation than I, but she was a trooper. Fourth issue: no where to stay. Don't worry this is resolved. Thanks, Scott. Some random American boy who happens to own a five story apartment in Bangkok, which he rents out to travelers. Beginning of scary story, but because I have no exciting ending besides the fact it was a super cool place, super comfy bed, and had A/C...there won't be a scary movie about that one, sorry kids. We are in bed at 5 A.M. Yay. Next day, rush around the city, find Erin some things to replace the lost luggage, and luckily have no issues getting to our bus that takes us to the beach. But I won't disappoint...fifth issue: bus breaks down. Flat tire or something. Oh joy. No worries, we did hop on another and made it to the beach. Only to have the sixth issue:  our room booking was mixed up and we have the beach one less night than was intended. It's all good. We have a killer team leader who searched out and found another place with a free room. Enjoyed the beach. Enjoyed awesome food. Relaxed. Rested. Breathed. It was well. The Lord opened my eyes to a ridiculous amount of things there...lots of tears, lots of joy, lots of hurt, lots of everything. Played a few games. We all did our best to forget how hard we worked to get these days of rest and just soaked it in.


So what's something I never thought I would confess...let's begin with the fact that I don't like hurt. I don't like pain. Well duh, Taylor. Tell me something new. Who likes those things? Well the thing is, when those things come my way, I check out. I do everything in my power to forget this world exists. I exit. Mentally. Physically. In whatever way works. I coast. I just make it through life, I don't actually live it. For that time of pain, of hurt, I die. I shut down, because that is easier. Not feeling is always easier. Right? Wrong. When I've done this in life, I forget about those who are walking through that pain with me. I shove them to the side. I forget to love, because who can do that when emotions are ground level. I'm blind to the world. I'm blind to it's needs, because I'm too freaking stuck in my own. I'm blind to the ways I can serve. That's what I've been doing in Kolkata. I came here to love, but I've forgotten how because I'm too focused on keeping out the pain. I prayed for open eyes, open ears, and open hands before coming here, but on my own account I have shut them...because that seems easier. I haven't wanted to take on any of the sorrows here, because it seems there are too many. I've been so guilty of the thoughts that "this city is what it is...my hands won't change a thing." I've let the darkness of this city, of the suffering, of the brokenness here completely snuff out the light I wanted to shine so brightly. I wrote a blog a few weeks ago confessing I don't love here. That I grow angry. That I judge. I do. But the Lord showed me that it is only because I don't want to open up enough to allow their hurt to hurt me, because naturally I despise pain. The thing is...with pain brings joy. Twisted, right? But that is how it is. I will sit and have coffee with anyone and tell you that exact thing face-to-face and why I know it to be true. So why stay closed up to the suffering of this city, when I know that so much joy to be found? I don't know. Other than the fact that everything in this city does it's job to convince me that it's hopeless. It's not. The Lord showed me that he has called me to nothing more than to being present here. To exist in every moment. I can't love well, but He can. He can be the overflow of my heart, but I've got to let Him. I've got to stop hardening myself and my heart and allow the God of the universe to use my presence. And there, joy will be found. Suffering too, but that can't be the focus. Good does come from ugly. I promise you that. And if you don't believe me, let's schedule a date when I'm back in America.

What is my take away from this? I'm called to exist in this city. Not conform to it; not coast through it. Exist as I have been created. Exist as I do any other place in the world. When I conform, I put myself at equals with the darkness of this city. I think and behave like I belong to the darkness here. I'm swallowed by it. And I find zero joy; zero reasons to be joy. So, I can smile when they do not. I can be patient when they are not. I can give when they do not, and I can take (the ugly, the pain, the rudeness, etc.) when they would not. I don't always have to be on the defense. I can turn the other cheek. Providing myself permission to do these things has already brought a great joy to my heart. And a great thankfulness for the 11 weeks I have left...that I can be different than I have been. Sorta like a second chance. Haha. Jesus is kind in that. Oh yeah, it has a name...grace.


And Bangkok. That is a large city, in case you haven't ever heard of it. It's ginormous. And so very different from Kolkata. Whoa, buddy...that was a change. People wait for you to get off the metro before they try getting on. It's also safe to sit next to a man on the metro, sky train, or a bus. Imagine that. I'm so used to being fearful and aware of my proximity to men that I didn't know how to react when a person of the male gender was next to me. They also don't stare...that was awesome. Everyone was eager to help us when we looked lost. Lots of unexpected kindness. It was very, very different from Kolkata. But, I'm not going to paint a beautiful portrait of Bangkok as being a perfect city. It is far from it. As a tourist just walking the streets of Bangkok and excited to see the world - yeah, sure - it's a great place. But going to the city in the context in which we did, I saw the broken side. I saw the ugly. It's an obvious, but hidden ugly. Sad, but so accepted.

We walked through the three largest red-light districts of the city. At midnight. The working hours. My heart hurts as I start to share this with you. I really don't know how to share. I literally feel sick just thinking on this night and my hands shake as I try to chose words that will somehow convey what it is like on those streets. I can't. I'm going to try, but I promise you my words will not do justice. I'm so afraid to even try, but I'm not going to not just because I'm nervous I cannot communicate the emotions those faces stirred in me. But before I even begin to tell you the sights and my thoughts, I want you to pray for these women and men. Bangkok is not the only place like this. It's in the world. It's just visible in Bangkok. It's visible in many places. Here in India, it's so under the radar, but that doesn't make it any less present. It does exist everywhere. Know that. We began the night walking through a red-light area with bars on either side. Women very scantily dressed even on the outside of these places. Men and women were walking up to us and throwing their "menus" for the sex shows into our faces. We just had to smile and say no thanks as we passed these people. This was the walk that shocked me. The first street we were introduced to. I tried to stay composed as my heart was almost beating out of my chest. I wanted to put all the women in my pocket and run them to safety. Not possible. We continued walking into a second red-light area that was much like the first. Strings of bars that all offered obvious invitations of entry...with services and shows displayed very openly. This area also had bars that "offered" men, which is not necessarily disclosed to only the pleasure of women. It was so sad to see. And lastly, we walked to the most popular red-light area. On the streets of this third red-light area, customers were out in the open. Bars completely open to the street. All very noticeable. They were all men visiting Thailand...for one reason or another, but ended up on these streets at this time for another purpose. Business men, vacationers, tourists, all of the sort. Men I would look upon as possibly respectable, but in that context, they are the farthest from receiving my respect as is possible. Again, I judge. I think the third place was the most difficult to absorb. I could see the men. I could see the faces of those purchasing these women. I could hear their voices as they spoke to these women. I could see the ways they were moving. It all disgusted me. It was so easy to target them as the one to judge. To look into his eyes, whoever he is, and to hate him, to be angry with him, to blame him for the state of these women. After all, if it wasn't for demand, there wouldn't be a supply. I have several faces of these men burned into my memory. Ones that my heart hurts for, but also ones that I despise on behalf of every woman and man being purchased on those streets. I hate it all. It is so disgusting. This business. I'm so quick to blame the men, to be angry with them, but I have to remember they have a story, too. Just because these women who have no desire to be selling their bodies end up on the street to do that very thing, doesn't mean they are the only ones with a reason to be angry at the world or to seek an escape of some sort. I looked at those men as the enemy. Which may or may not be justified, but the Bible speaks of loving enemies. I think that's the first time those verses hit me in the manner they did...an enemy doesn't mean that I was done wrong, it means someone is oppressing another human that doesn't deserve to be oppressed. They are cherished by our mighty God, just as much as the women are. The Lord opened my eyes to the fact that the faces I'm staring into to hate, are the faces he loves. But one thing that amazed me is the different emotions that can be read on the faces of the women. So many of them looked inviting, like they are enjoying their life; they read that all is well and I'm interested...they laugh and smile, but all of that is fake. If you look hard enough, you can tell. Or if you care anything for their hearts you can tell. Others straight up read disgust, anger, fear, pain, and that "I do not want to be here", those are the ones telling the truth. The ones that were honest with their eyes, but would never say so with their words. The ugly game with this is that this isn't a choice made by the women. They are sucked into this. They are brought one way or another into this lifestyle...because they are forced/owned, because they were once forced/owned and now have no other choice, because they have a family with needs and no money, because they have ran out of options or feel like it's just how it is with no escape. So many more stories, but all have roots in something ugly. The whole process is just sick. I cannot say it enough. Knowing this game, and I do not...I've only heard pieces or been told a part of the system, is burdensome. Men walk to these streets to purchase humans who act like they actually are interested in selling themselves, but aren't in the least. And what blows my mind is that it is every night. This wasn't just something that happened the night we went out...it operates every day of the week. Every day of the year. This ugly continues, even when I'm not staring it in the face. The darkness doesn't end. Or does it? Maybe not for every girl, for every man using the girl, but for some it can. There is hope. And holding on to that hope is what feeds the desire to see another day. I pray the women on the streets of Bangkok can see a light. I pray the men purchasing these women can find freedom from whatever it is enslaving them to the desire to use another human being the way they do. It's so, so, so heartbreaking. I cannot imagine how much the heart of our Lord breaks over this...unfathomable.


Anyways...spent those days there and returned home. Not before we had issue number seven:  lost/late baggage. The airline totally forgot to put all of our luggage on the plane to Kolkata. Oh man. The fight continues. Here I've been praying to be different. To hold on the truths that the Lord revealed to me, and to put them into action. Purchased 30 little chocolate bars. I know once I give one out, it's going to be addicting. Might as well have bought 30 while I was at the store. So excited. So joyful. I smiled a lot today. I even let myself shimmy in the coffee shop (when no one was watching, of course). I'm going to exist here just as I would in any other place. Maybe a bit more mildly, but I am finished conforming. No good in attempting to be a light in a dark place if you conform to the ways of the darkness. Done.



Goodnight, folks. Gonna go eat dinner. It's 9:30 P.M and some homeboy is seriously wanting on my computer. His World of Warcraft game is calling his name.