Whores.
They don't rank very high on our list of respectable professions, do they? Oh,
let's see: doctors, professors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, business women,
writers, social workers, clergy. Nope. Call girls just don't make the cut.
As a woman -
prostitutes disgust me. As a professional - they insult me. As a mother - I am
appalled.
Before India,
I had never personally met a woman of ill repute (at least that I know of). Before
India,
I had never walked the streets of a red-light district. Before India,
I had only viewed the women behind this shameful profession through a window,
where it's much easier to judge and condemn than to understand and love.
On the
ground, as I walked through the streets of Mumbai where women posed at the
front door of their brothels, I locked eyes with their pimps and glared at them
with disdain for their business practice. But as I looked into the eyes of the
women, both young and old, waiting to begin their trade of service - with as
many as 20 men a night - my disgust quickly gave way to anguish.
Sitting in
a half-way house that rescues these women, many who have never learned to read
or write, I heard their stories as, one after another, they told of how their
uncle, their father, their mother,
sold them into the sex trade at the tender ages of 12 and 13. This is not the
exceptional story - this is the
story. When I looked into their tearful, shame-filled eyes as they wept, I was
no longer insulted by their choice of work, but found myself enraged that they had no choice.
Nearby, my
traveling buddies and I visited an orphanage full of little girls dressed in
their Sunday best. We sang and danced the Hokey
Pokey with these fresh-faced little cherubs whose mothers have tucked them
away from the ugliness of their world... mothers who long for a better life for their
daughters. As I sang and played with these happy, gorgeous children, I was no
longer appalled by their mothers' line of work, but in awe of their courage and
creativity to provide for these babies an escape from the destiny that could so
easily befall them.
Looking
through a window, it was easy to be judgmental. But on the ground, these women
become real people. As my senses awakened in listening to their stories, I was
quickly transported in my mind back to the States, wondering how often I have
misjudged others, too.
As a woman,
a daughter, and a mother - I am no longer disgusted with the acts of others but
rather I am heartbroken at my own judgmental spirit. It's easy to point
fingers, isn't it? Before jumping to conclusions, I hope you will join me in learning
more of the back story on others you judge, too. Because on the ground, things are
never as simple as they seem.
Giving up
the robe,
Ellen
Posted by Ellen on April 6, 2009 4:13 PM
| Category: On the Ground
On October
24, 2008, my excellent Indian adventure came to a screeching halt. As my
documentary girlfriends and I parted in the airport it was bittersweet: so hard
to say goodbye to those with whom we had experienced so much for the last
fourteen days, and at the same time, so good to know that we wouldn't be
pitching our tents three to a room, that night!
We were an
unlikely crew. Star is an entrepreneur who makes a living working a wide variety
of jobs - everything from providing manicures to acting; Toni is a successful
and focused litigator. Sue and I have each been married for 19 years; Jayna and
Star are single. Froswa and Traci are active Christians who are raising kids;
Sue is Jewish, with a recently empty nest; Jayna at 32 was the youngest in our
group and defines herself as "quasi-new age unhippie pseudo-intellectual with
skeptical tendencies and a secret supernatural bent." Kids are not in her
immediate future. We all possessed varying degrees of understanding of India's culture, laws, and religions, while
Nanci, our facilitator, having visited India over a dozen times, was an
expert.
We were
women of all sizes, from petite tiny-hineys to voluptuous va-va-va-booms. We
were women of all colors, from nearly translucent to luscious dark chocolate. Our
personalities spanned the gamut of slightly shy to in-your-face. At first blush
you'd think we'd have nothing of importance in common. But in reality we
possessed one critical, common bond.
We all knew
that to live intentionally, we had to get off of the bus.
We knew
that in order to fully capture life, we would have to do more than just watch
it roll by as we looked through a window. And we all agreed that to make a
difference in our world sometimes we're going to be hot, cramped, stressed, and
- well, there's just no such thing as a good hair day in India. We knew that we could not be
afraid to question and debate. And although we all had been selected to
participate in the documentary, we also chose to accept the challenge of the
adventure.
Every minute
faithfully lived is a chance to practice the art of living. A life of magnitude
does not just happen; it is consciously chosen. - Marianne Williamson
For
fourteen days I lived intentionally and dreamed dramatically with six
insightful, daring strangers as we became more than life spectators. I was
blessed to be amongst the India Seven who hit the ground running.
So what
about you, Girlfriend? In this rat-race world, do you find yourself thriving or
just surviving? Maybe it's time for you to get off the bus, too. Gain a fresh
perspective. Impact your world. And choose
a life of magnitude.
Looking for
my next adventure,
Ellen
Posted by Ellen on April 27, 2009 11:29 AM
| Category: On the Ground
