I watched as the flower was bought, money exchanged from hand to hand, and carefully held as they approached the steps. Gently they slid their sandals off and their bare feet felt the stone steps leading up to the platform, and just as careful as the flower was exchanged, they knelt as their children follow and pray to the single statue erected in the middle of a park where the feeling of pain and darkness is truly tangible in the air. After minutes they rose to their feet, laid the flower at the foot of the statue along with 1000s of other accompanying it, and in perfect cyclical fashion, market workers came up to the platform with their huge green baskets, took handfuls of these flowers, and dumped them into the baskets to be resold.
This exchange of flowers showed tenderness from the sincere hearts behind every offering. So why in this park, not even ten feet from this worship, are women being sold and stripped of hope, of humanity, and of completely self worth? How is it possible to see tenderness in something as objective as a flower and not see it in humans?
Because in essence, the Prostitute and the Flower are the same. They are sold in a money exchange, from one hand to another, used for a purpose decided by the one who bought it, and left at the end of their use, where someone will take them to resell once again. Why is such pride taken in this cultures’ Buddhist worshiping, but so much shame put on the woman who most likely had no choice, and was sold by her own family for a small profit?
I find it hard to write in words the feeling of this park. In the middle of one of the largest cities in Thailand is a place where drug deals and prostitution exchanges happen regularly. It is the same park where a playground sits, where children are learning to rollerblade, where families come to ask for forgiveness to a statue with so many unfulfilled prayers, and where the birds fill the trees and rooftops so much that at times the sounds are deafening. I’ve never experienced the tangible feeling of darkness until I walked through this park. My heart physically hurts with each step in this place, and the feeling of hopelessness is overwhelming.
But in a place filled with so much darkness means that even the smallest amount of light can be seen so clearly. And that is my hope. I’ve already seen glimpses of it in a woman I spoke with last Friday. She kept thanking us over and over for coming to talk to her because no one ever will. Her self worth is diminished by people degrading her, by being too ashamed to tell anyone in her family what she does, and by her eyes unable to see anyway out of her situation. And the simple act of reaching out and taking the time to listen to her story touched her in a way words could never do justice. Hope showed its face in a woman that clearly hasn’t seen it in years. Hope took its rightful place for a small moment in time, and I don’t think that moment will ever be lost on me.
The song ‘We Dance’ by Steffany Gretzinger has had a strong hold on my heart over the recent months in my own life, but I don’t think it has ever been displayed more clearly to me than in listening to this woman’s story.
“… I’ve been told To pick up my sword And fight for love Little did I know That love had won for me Here in Your arms You still my heart again And I breathe You in Like I’ve never breathed till now…”
The world tells us that we as people, but especially women, have to fight for our capability of being loved, and that’s where our worth is solidified. Yet, love has already won for me, and I’ve been given it without even fighting for it. This woman’s worth comes from nothing the world tries to shame her for because she has the right to feel hopeful, feel worthy, feel human, and feel loved.
“… I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt. Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful.
Jeremiah 31:3-4
There is hope for the hopeless, and they will again feel joy. My hope is that the smallest of light will prevail through the darkness, and women will know there worth is not found in the shame society puts on them, and the same hands that give tenderness to the flower will someday do the same for the woman who stands only a few feet away.
much love,
HAYLEY
02.10.16
XXX
