This week I was visiting women who are still
working in situations of exploitation.
For over 3 years I have been visiting women in their work places. I have seen a lot of things over my hundreds
of visits. Due to my exposure to direct
exploitation, it takes a lot to rattle me when I visit.
This week I was shaken to my core. My two friends and I were visiting a shop and
talking with a women we had known for a few months. I have never met any of the
women in the shop, but my coworker did.
She was introducing me to the women that we have existing relationship
with, Miss Wang. After talking with Miss
Wang, I introduce myself to her coworkers.
After giving my standard introduction* I asked for their names. Without pausing, the 2 new women introduced
themselves by a number. [As a way to
protect their privacy and make things fair in the brothels, the women are
assigned numbers. The numbers rotate and
the customer is served by the next person up on the rotation. When talking in front of a client the women
will address each other by their number, not their names, as a form of privacy
and anonymity.] I met #16 and #8. No names, not even a made up nickname to
pacify us.
It broke my heart how in the month the new employees
had been working there had adapted to being referred to as a number. The thick walls they have put up as means of
survival have penetrated their very identity.
They have accepted the reality that they can be referred to a number and
seen only as a thing to be used. During
the course of our 45 minute visit, I heard the women refer to each other as a
number the entire time. I was on an emotional
roller-coaster as I went from being on the verge of tears that these women are
looked upon so poorly, to sad for the fact that their personal histories have
made this seem acceptable, to admiration for the fact that these women have
figured out a way to cope with circumstances that I would never survive, to
prayer as I asked the One who can shatter the walls to do His work.
I don’t think I will ever get used to starting
injustice and exploitation directly in the face. I am not sure what I can do
personally that will chip away at the protective walls these beautiful women
have put up. I know that I have the most
powerful weapon, asking our Loving Father to meet them where they are and woo
them to Himself. However I can help in
that process, I am thankful I am in a position to do so. Until that day, I am going to do my best to
build trust and learn these beautiful women’s real names.
*(Hi I’m Jennifer.
Yes, I’m American. Yes, I am tall
and this is my natural hair color. If
you want to study English I can teach you free lessons if you agree to teach me
free Chinese lessons.)
