As we entered the alley back in September (2009), we were met by a deafening noise. It was a holiday, and, as per usual on such occasions, music was blaring from unseen speakers. No longer able to communicate with my friend/guide, I became lost in thought. The street before us was typical of countless others we’d passed here in the red light district.
Trash had collected along the stonewalls of the buildings in these narrow lanes offering delightful fodder for the large number of goats, dogs, cats, and rats that called the district home. Their neighbors, countless men, women, and children, socialized with each other from unsteady cots placed parallel to each home’s curtain-on-a-rod/front door.
Unlike other areas of this massive city, no one would meet my gaze. In this dark place, it was as though the sun had set in my mind and twilight had taken over. I could not stop the next thought: the cries of a young girl being sexually assaulted in any of these brothels would go unheard. This supposed day of celebration has only increased the vulnerability of the country’s estimated 1.2 million minors held in sexual servitude.
We drank in the toxic atmosphere for less than ten minutes before walking freely away, to explore the rest of this city. If only everyone could be so lucky.
As I entered my newest office, * where I have joined the fight to combat this seemingly impenetrable world of commercial sexual exploitation (i.e. forced prostitution) on a daily basis, I finally glimpse the light in all this horror…in my compassionate and brilliant co-workers.
In their strength and determination, I see a day when little girls will no longer scream, unheard, under the weight of a stranger. It will be a glorious day.
*Look for further explanation on WHY I am back in South Asia (but different city) in the upcoming post “Annnnd….I’m back!”
["Red Light Street": photo above courtesy of the org]
