Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Loss and Restoration

So we have done alot of training in the time I have been here, and part of that is doing excercises that make us aware of what the girls are going through culturally, emotionally, etc..

This one impacted me most.


List five things in life that are most important to you. List the fice things you cannot do without or that rank on your priority list. Here are mine:

1. Faith
2. Family
3. Friends
4. School
5. Security and stability

We wrote these on little cards. Then Kelsey would ome around and take one from each of us. She took security from me. Pretend one of yours is taken away. What would you do if it really was? For me, not to have security basically meant something was wrong in all the other areas of my life. I found myself trying to figure out which one I wanted her to take. Take school and education, I will lose that before the others, after that it becomes hard.

Then we got all our cards taken away.

ALL. What if you lost all the things you listed? What would you do? What would that feel like? Horrible. I honestly do not know how I could function. I probably would just shut down to be honest. It seems like too much loss. It is too much loss for anyone to handle.

Welcome to the life of a girl in prostitution and sex slavery.


She has lost everything. She has lost her family for she is all alone. Her family is her Madame and pimp. She has lost most of her faith for how could one be worthy of anything after all she has done? She has lost any real friend. Her friends are now the other girls on the street. Her competetition to beat out in order to earn more money to pay her traffickers back with. Stability and security? I do not think I have to explain why those do not exist. School? Her heart had longed for education, but education did not offer immediate payment. Who wants her intelligence? She is just body. I met one girl who had told me she wanted to be an accountant. She became excited as she told me about her love of numbers. She loved the order of them. The neat way they all fit together. Her face became downcast as she said everything changed when her family needed money. She looked up at me and asked "Its not too late is it? I can go back when I get out right?". Such a painful look with a tinge of hope, I encouraged her that she could do just that.

Most of us live off our hopes and dreams. Especially when we are young. The future is a vast and scary thing, but there is so much hope in the unknown for us. We have not lost it all. But what if we did? What would change in us? What happens to a person when everything they wanted and loved is crushed. I will tell you what happens. Something dies within them. They lose parts of themselves slowly, each time feeling like they will never get it back. They slowly lose who they are.

Another excericise we did was Kelsey had us all draw or write who we were on a piece of paper.

What would best show/describe who we were. I made my little drawing and handed it over to kelsey expecting that we would have to explain ourselves. I was proud of what I had drawn. I like to be appreciated for who I am. Dont we all? Well, instead of uplifting, she went through one by one, said something demeaning or derrogatory (to the best of her ability) about our pictures, ripped them up, and handed them back to us. I must say even though I knew this was an excercise, I could feel myslef hoping she would not get to mine. Please please pass it over. I did not want who I was torn apart or criticized.

Once again, in this act we were shown what the girls feel like. All the dreams they had, who they are, who they wanted to be, it is gone. It has been ripped up and torn to shreds. They have been shown and told they are worthless. They have been told that they are nothing more then a prostitutie. Nothing more then an object to be used. Nothing. Anything they thought they were, anything they thought they wanted, it was all gone. A fantasy that could never come true.

These excercises really impacted me.

In some small way, I could grasp the complete and utter loss that comes with sex trafficking. It makes my heart hurt, but realize how much I have. I am so glad that my God restores. Restoration. That has become my prayer for these girls. May the Lord restore all their dreams, their hopes, and their needs. May they find their hope and future in Him. May they begin to see a future, to have hope. May they know they are loved in the depths of their heart, and may they know that they are worth so much. May they find comfort in their grief. May they be able to grieve the loss of so much, but after find joy in all that God will give them. I know their lives have forever been altered, but I also know that all things work for the good. Please continue to pray.

"And I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.And you shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise the name of the LORD your God, that has dealt wondrously with you: and my people shall never be ashamed." Joel 2:25-26


Also remeber to give thanks.
Appreciate and love all that you have. Because there are those who would give anything to have just a fraction.

"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever."

Psalm 145:7

Monday, July 26, 2010

Twirl Me

You know those times in life where everything just slows down.
The times where your mind is not wandering with a million things racing through your head, but rather you are just in the moment. I had one of those the other night. It was very simple, but I find that sometimes in the simple things, the greatest joy can be found.

We went out to the streets.


Just like the other nights, we smiled and waved at the girls. We told them we had some tea, literature, and cookies around the corner for them whenever they wanted to come over. It gets hard to tell the girls apart and remember their names because they change their hair and even names so much. But there are a few that I have put to memeory. These ones I have shared more then a a mere "how are ya" conversation with, actually we have become friends of sorts. They have asked for help finding new jobs, for prayer, or we have just enjoyed each others company.

One girl all night stayed in the vicinity of our table.


She kept walking back and forth talking on the cell phone. A few times i was pretty sure she was not even talking on the phone. I think she just liked being in our prescence. I had had a few conversations with her before. She was the one who had warned me of a man who was going to steal a necklace off one of our team members. P has a raspy, deeper voice so I can always tell its her. She also seems to be very no nonsense, and I appreciate that quality in her. Finally,towards the end of the night, I was able to strike up a converstaion with her.

Me: "Hey there, hows the night going?"
P: "Oh fine fine."
Me: "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
p: "ya..sure sure..go ahead."
Me: "What is love to you?"
P: "LOve? You mean sex?"
Me: "No No.. I mean if you were to love someone..like to love me.. what does that mean to you?"
(I tried to use hand motions to express what I was trying to convey.)
P: " There are two kinds of love: there is friendship love like between you and I.. and there is husband and wife love."
Me: "Do you want a family and a husband?"
P:" Me? yes I do I do. But not here. Not on the streets. There is no love here."

There is no love here.

She spends night after night with the exception of Sunday nights on this street. Can you imagine inhabiting a place where there is no love? Most of us cannot. Love means you matter. You are cared for.

As a little girl, I loved to play dress up. As much as I was a tomboy and enjoyed rough housing with my brother, there was something marvelous about dress up. What is the first thing my little girlfriends and I would do when we played dress up? We would dance. We would twirl in Mommys dresses.We would play pretend. We were Princesses in a beautiful castle. You see in a house or a place where there is love, there is freedom to twirl and pretend. Up into high school, there was nothing like listening to music with girlfriends, bouncing on the bed, twirling , and dancing. Even in my college years, I still love to do this. So many giggles and so much joy in these moments. It is in the subconcious knowing that you are loved, you are with people who love and enjoy you, thus you have the ability to be free. I still sometimes twirl in a dress that is flowy. I can still be the twirling little girl in her mommys dress because I have the freedom that comes from knowing that no matter what I am loved.

P was robbed of this.

These girls were robbed of this. Their dress up consists of putting on clothes that come off the easiest. They listen to music that has to be shut off when a client is in want of their services. There is no love. There is no twirling. There is no pretend. They just have the reality of being a product, a commodity, and nothing precious. They do not have freedom.

Me:"Do you like to dance?"
P: " Yes yes I do."
Me: "Like what kind?"
P: " I like the couples Greek dance."
Me: " Could you teach me.?"
P: "Oh no, I do not know how.."
Me: " You know I could teach you to waltz.. couples dance."
P: "There is no music"
Me: "Oh it is fine.. here let me see your hand.."

So we began to dance.
I am not very good and not the best teacher, but we giggled as we stumbled on each others feet and counted.. 1234...1234.. The team began to sing Waltz music behind us. Princess began to try to twirl. I could see that she wanted me to spin her. So that is what we did. We were not too good at this and pretty soon we were more of hugging and spinning together then dancing. In the midst of the filth of the streets, I danced with a Princess. We got to play pretend. She got to experience what it felt like to be safe and loved. We forgot where we were. We were just two girls laughing as we spun together. In that moment, there was freedom. Finally, after spinning and laughing, she let go and ran away to another group of girls taking her giggles with her.

You see it may seem like this was a blessing to her. A blessing to a girl who has no love for a moment was allowed an expressive act of it. But this dance was a blessing to me. In that moment, princess showed me where God was in the midst of all that darkness. He was right there. I had been struggling with trying to understand how I felt the love of Christ in this darkness but still with mixed feelings of questioning Him on how He could allow this.

The tree. The fall. The choice. This.. all this horrific pain.. this hoplessness.. did not come from the Lord.This was not His perfect plan. You see darkness is the absence of light. Light is never overwhelmed by darkness. Rather it penetrates and defeats darkness. There is no place for darkness where there is light.

The Lord said that He comes to give life and life abundantly.

It was in this moment with Princess that I understood the grace of God. I know that He is good, and I feel His love in this atrocity of sex slavery because I see Him and all that He brings contrasted with this darkness. "Taste and see that the Lord is good." I know that this is not all there is for these girls.. I know there is hope. There is abundant life, for I know the One who brings it. I have experienced it. This is Gods grace. He gives us hope. Hope for the future. He gives us undying love. Unfathomable love. He gives us Joy. He brings justice. He comes to bring abundant life! He comes to set the captives free.. He brings love and with that love comes freedom. Gods grace is that He comes into our darkest places and conquers our darkness.

I cannot offer any of these girls a promise that life will be easy. If they get out their road to healing is long and hard. But I can offer a hope, a love, and a freedom that only comes from knowing and believing that Jesus died and defeated death by rising from the dead for every sin and every wrong thing we have done. This world is not the end. There is glory and beauty that awaits us in heaven. Maybe we will get to dance and twirl with our heavenly Father.

You want to know how good God is?


I had been talking this entire trip about how much I wanted to be able to go dance or to at least go and watch it.. Not club dancing, but pretty couple dancing. Like on a beautiful terrace or something. Who knew that my one dance while in Greece would be on the streets with amongst prostituted women. Who knew that my dance would be with a Princess.

Who is more blessed then I?


Psalm 146

1 Praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD, O my soul.

2 I will praise the LORD all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.

3 Do not put your trust in princes,
in mortal men, who cannot save.

4 When their spirit departs, they return to the ground;
on that very day their plans come to nothing.

5 Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD his God,

6 the Maker of heaven and earth,
the sea, and everything in them—
the LORD, who remains faithful forever.

7 He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets prisoners free,

8 the LORD gives sight to the blind,
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,
the LORD loves the righteous.

9 The LORD watches over the alien
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

10 The LORD reigns forever,
your God, O Zion, for all generations.
Praise the LORD.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Some Experiences with a Tinge of an Education Push

I am really starting to bond with Athens.

In a love/hate sort of way. I have conquered mass transit and the ability to be discrete when suffering by someones lack of hygiene and/or refusal to wear deoderant. You would think that after squeezing onto a packed bus or metro every day of their lives..one would want to wear deoderant, but this seems not to be the case. Also, I now have a newfound appreciation for the US plumbing system. God bless all your souls. I may cry the first time I do not have to stick TP in the trash can. Oh the relaease of the fear that I may be the cause of some mass plumbiing problem because I had done the unthinkable: absent mindedly put tissue in the toilet.

I am also starting to realize why very few people are fat.

First of all, it is very very hot here. As in 100 degrees and the AC is too expensive to run (if you even have it). I find no shame in basking in front of the cold air or fan coming from a shop, but not buying anything. We counted the stairs we took one day. It was close to 400 one way. Thats almost 1000 stairs a day if you do not take an escalator. But dont you worry. I will find a way to be the one person who goes to Europe and gains weight.

The city has its beauty.


I went to the Acropolis. I could not get over that I was walking in a place that at one time only existed to me in my history books. The parthenon and the other temples were magnificent. I kept picturing all that went on there. People lived and died. I imagined wras being fought on the gorund I was standing. People probably fought and lost their lives in the Parthenon. From atop the hill of the Acropolis you could see it all. All of Athens, the Sea, amd the surronding hills for miles. It was no wonder Athens was such a great city for so long. I also stood on top of Mars Hill that day. It was incredible... all around you could see the sights of the city. On one side you have the Acropolis, Mars Hill sits below (but close) to it so you can see the Parthenon and ancient temples atop the acropolis. On another side, you could see the temple of Zeus... in front of you lay the city and the Sea. This was where Paul stood and preached a message to Athens. Acts 17:22-34. What a wonderful place to preach the message of Christ! Another fun fact, Aeropagus (Mars Hill) was where the judicial council met, and some high officials had their homes at one time on the side
of the hill. At the bottom you can see the ruins of the church that Dionysis built after he was converted from the sermon Paul preached on that hill (Church of St. Paul). I will put up facebook photos someday soon. Read Pauls sermon and all of this will putin context.

I also walked where Paul walked... literally.


We went to Corinth for half the day before Outreach. I climbed the ancient ruins of the Acro Corinth. At the very top of that mountain, I stood where the Temple of Aphrodite was. They say over 1000 prostitutes were there. One of the missionariies told us that Corinth had the power of Washington DC and the sin/pleasure of Las Vegas. Mind you, we drove half way up the mountain.. then climbed for awhile.. I cant imagine going all that way by foot just to sleep with one of the girls of the temple. The missionary turned to all of us who are young and unmarried and asked... Dont you think it would have just been easier to have a God honoring relationship? Food for thought. Now back to walking where Paul walked. We went and saw the ancient ruins of Corinth. This is where Paul preached and walked arond. In one of the verses it talked about how he went and preached in the marketplace until the rest of his team came and then he went into the temples. There are two main roads in the main part of the city. Everyone who went to Corinth walked these roads. I walked on the actual stone..the actual road that went right through the marketplace. We made sure to go back and forth and criss cross to be positive we touched the same stones no matter what path he may have taken. So yes.. I really have walked the same road as Paul.

I do not understand the police here.

Pretty much every day on my way to the office I see people shooting up. Its really sad. A bunch of druggies are scattered everywhere slumped over. What a sad sad life. Mind you the police are there too. What for? Your guess is as good as mine. Omonia (the part of Athens we work in) is definitly the land of drug addicts. Often when we are out in the streets at night the police will give us a scolding for being there. They say our safety is in our hands. Funny how no one seems to be worried about the young Nigerian girls who are forced to be out there every night. Heaven forbid something be done besides just driving around in police cars or motorcycles all night making the girls run and hide. Its like a game. The girls just become mice to scatter and scare. The police do this repeatedly, and I still dont see the point. It just makes it hard for us to have conversations with the girls because they are nervous and cannot really concentrate. If they do get arrested, they will go to court and just be sent out again. Back on the streets. It does not really solve anything.

Funny, but not so funny story.

One of the nights we were out there, there was a ton of police. They kept driving through scaring the girls. So the girls spent most of the night running. We were well equipped with water, tea, and biscuits for them, but it still made it hard to have conversations. One girl came up to me and said, "I like your legs." I was a little caught off guard by this comment. Especially considering she has the long slender African legs, and I have the American (I played all the butch sports) Scandanavian legs. I tried to come up with a compliment in return, but failed. "I umm like your legs too?"

We shall call her S. Now a little later that evening I started to hear yelling. Screeching. A ton of girls came running and shouting. There was an uproar. Out came S. Screaming and yelling and pointing. I had no idea what was going on. Then a police car was coming and everyone did not run. They started yelling and shouting for the police to come. The police didnt see and the girls would laugh while still shouting and yelling. They began to run after the police. Now I was really confused. Finally the police stopped and one took off running. The entire time in this uproar. S has not fully dressed herself, I have a ton of shouting and laughing girls all around me, I see a police officer chasing a man in the distance, and I am completely lost. I wish I could explain and tell you all the details of why this was funny in an insane way, but I cannot accurately describe this night to you at all.

Turns out it was a pickpocket.

The girls hate pickpockets and apparently so do the police because in that moment they were allies. The prostituted women and the police.. trying to find justice and stop thievery.

What a warped sense of justice.

I am not going to try and pretend to understand what all this is about, but I really wish that the police here were more of a help. The justice system really has failed these girls. The police go after a pickpocket because more can be done to them then to one of these prostituted women. Prostitution is legal even if human trafficking isnt. So how would a girl prove she has been trafficked? Most of the girls do not even know these terms or know that they have rights. The traffickers are so highly connected, withinn the government and the police force, that any attempt to stop them seems almost pointless. How can justice ever be served? How can these traffickers be caught? You see, one girl can be saved, but hundreds more in her place will come. Its never ending. These men must be stopped at the source. Human trafficking has to be stopped at its root or it will never end. Lives will continue to be destroyed. Precious girls will continue to be terrorized. This is not just for Greece, but all around. There are places where girls in the villages just disappear. Villages you can go to where you will not find a young girl because they have all been sold. Places like India, Thailand, and Cambodia.. human trafficking allows for not only prostitution.. but more horrible horrible atrocities that are done to these girls. In any country, do not be fooled into thinking that prostitution is glitz and glamour. That is a terrible lie. Stopping all this,is so vast a task that it can be seen as daunting to try and stop this. Those at the aftercare level are overwhelmed by the endless amount of lives that have been ripped apart, forever changed. It must be stopped at its source. But How?

There has to be a way. What we need is not just ministers, but an educated people. One of the ladies that has been with Nea Zoi from the start has gone back to school to be a therapist. The missionaries say that ministry is begging for professionalism. A pastor once told me that to have a good heart was wonderful, but that he had seen many people in the church be frustrated because they could only do so much because of their lack of education and money. Why is the church afraid of education? Of a profession? Of money? Last time I checked this, and yes our Lord too..keep in mind I am holding Him as a constant, are very important to a ministry.

Hosea 4:6 My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou shalt be no priest to me: seeing thou hast forgotten the law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.


Do you know apart from loving God with all their heart mind and soul, I really truly believe that the way my generation and the generations to come are going to make a difference, is through having a profession, higher education, and knowledge. To gain respect in the secular world. To not be seen as ignorant and never venturing outside our churches... Gods people should be an educated people. Yes, I know that many have been used who did not have this. Some people have extenuating circumstances that do not allow for this. Each person has their own conviction in the matter. But it cannot be argued.. We are so blessed in America. So so Blessed. If the opportunity to learn is there.. TAKE IT!
So much can be done for the Lord. Why not enter the secular world as Christian professionals and fight for the cause of Christ? I guess all I am trying to say is.. Church please do not downplay the importance and role of higher education, because the mission field and hurting people are in dire need of those who have it.

In Conclusion..

As I said before, many of these girls know who God is. They were raised around Christianity at home. They even go to church on Sundays, but they are trapped and in bondage. They are in bondage to the witchcraft spoken over their lives, their traffickers, their overwhelming shame and guilt, and often their families. Pary for the girls. Pray for the team. Let us pray for freedom. Let us pray for Justice.

Psalm 145:19-20 He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them. [20] The Lord watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

My Grace is Sufficient

It is getting harder to leave at the end of the night when we go out to the streets. Can I just stay with them? I promise I will be safe. I know that I am not allowed to be alone out there, but who is going to keep them safe? I find myself wishing that we couold go out every night. I have the overwhelming question of "why" screaming in my head all the time. Why. Why her? Why not me? Why is this allowed? Why do you not save them right now God? You walked on water, you healed the sick, you made blind men see... Why are these girls here? Do you know that the girls regualarly stand on the streets singing praise songs? Often the conversations go like this: "What fun music! What is it called?" "It is praise music from my country. From Nigeria. Praise to the One who made it all." Then the girl runs off chasing a potential customer. My mind cannot fully grasp this. In all this darkness, these girls are listening to praise music? I am pretty sure I heard hillsongs from one of the girls. We are told that everytime Bibles are brought out, they are gone in an instant. The girls love to get Bibles. Some keep them as good luck charms to sleep with under their pillows. Often, you can find a girl reading one in a brothel. The girls know that what they are doing is sin, but they are trapped by their circumstances and their traffickers. "just as soon as I pay off my debt, then I will find a new job."
The girls have started to remeber me. I do not really blend in here you could say. I remebered their names, thankfully, and was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. I loved seeing them. Its hard not to just grab them, throw them in a car, and go far away. Sometimes I imagine that we could all start a cafe by the Sea, and they could be safe and healthy. I would take care of them. I would love them. In my perfect world, they would never hurt again or deal with the consequences of their trade. In my perfect world.
At different times, the girls asked me to sit with them.We would sit there. Just two young women have a conversation. One girl told me of how she missed home. She said she had alot of family there, but she was here in Athens alone. She told me that if she could, she would go back home right now. She would just fly away and be gone. I am going to find out why she has not done so and offer her the opportunity to go home through Nea Zoi next time I see her. Another girl offered for me to sit down on the cardboard box she had set out so the dirty sidewalk would not stain her dress. We laughed at our attempt to both sit on this little pieece of cardboard. We laughed at the size of my butt in comparison to her small frame. We laughed at my recent sunburn and awful tan lines from the merciless Greek sun. We laughed. We talked of how she loved to sing gospel music. I asked her if she would want to sing in front of a crowd ever. She said it did not matter. She loved to sing everywhere. We shared smiles and stories. But we shared an unspoken pain. We could joke and laugh, but we did it amongst the darkness of a street filled with men walking by and gawking at us. She sat safe with me, but I could not keep her safe. Everytime I looked at her I could see a yearning to be as far away from here as she could be. I watched her fiddle with her phone and hands, never really looking up. I wanted to throw away any normal conversation, and just grab her and hold her close to me. I wanted to let her cry. Cry for the injustice of it all. Cry for where her life had taken her. Cry for what had been stolen from her. I could see so much pain that could not come out. I once saw a movie with a poem and it immediately came to mind, It is by Antwone Fischer, but I am changing it to a girl for the sake of getting my point across.

who will cry for the little girl?
Lost and all alone.
Who will cry for the little girl?
Abandoned without her own?

Who will cry for the little girl?
She cried herself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little girl?
She never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little girl?
She walked the burning sand
Who will cry for the little girl?
The girl inside the woman.

Who will cry for the little girl?
Who knows well hurt and pain
Who will cry for the little girl?
She died again and again.

Who will cry for the little girl?
A good girl she tried to be
Who will cry for the little gilr?
Who cries inside of me.

You see this girl who I sat on the box with. She has not been making enough money, thus her family has been threatened. They have reduced the amount she has to pay off, but she still has another two years ahead of her. She is dying inside. You can see it all over her face. Her family has been threatened so she receives pressure from them. She receives pressure from her traffickers. She is ravaged by her customers. She must go out night after night allowing others to take advantage of her. Noone seems to care for her. All is hopeless. I look at her and I want to scream at every man that walks by with that disgusting look. I want to fight for her. tell her she is loved. Oh, she is adored. That is when the question , "why" begins to scream in my head. I hear "My grace is sufficient." What does that mean? Everytime I cry out to the Lord this is what I hear. Grace. Grace. My Grace. I am not going to pretend to understand. I am not going to play all knowing holy Christian.
Was I blaming God for all of this? Paul is talking about nothing being out of his own good, but rather from God. I see all this injustice and it is hard to comprehend and understand my God in this context. But why this verse? Is the Lord reminding me that this pain I feel He feels even more then I do? All the filth, this is what sin does. This is what sin is. Have I not been walking in the grace of God? Yes. I know it is only by Grace I am saved. But what about these girls? I am not questioning that Gods grace is enough, but am I questioning his heart in comparison to mine? As if the Lord has turned His face from the wretchedness and hurt here? Am I forgetting the filth that is in me? So many questions. I am so thankful to know that God can be patient with me me and my questions. When I understand this verse in the context of my life right now, I shall let you know.
Pray For L. Pray for hope. Pray for every girl on this street. Pray for the team. I have no idea how I will ever be able to leave them. Pray. Pray. Pray. For I know His Grace is sufficient.

2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Friday, July 16, 2010

God's Favor

Today was a long day. We got up early and headed to our bus stop. We take one bus, two metro changes, and a walk through a pretty nasty area, in order to get to our offices. Once we got there we reconvened our training. We are being taught out of a book called "The Hands that Heal". There are very few materials that train on the issue of human trafficking and sex slavery so it is a blessing to have this. After I am done with this training, I will receive a certificate stating I finished the training and I will be able to train others. I thought that was pretty exciting news.
We started off going through a biblical view of sexuality. It is so important that while in working in this industry we keep our thoughts and minds focused on God's views on sexuality. The things that are seen can so easily distort our perception of sex. We all know that the Bible sees sex within the correct context as good; as an act of bonding and committing your whole self to one person. The interesting thing that I saw while studying this issue was the perception of sex in our culture and how it really does "sell". When the emotional is taken out of sex, which is what our culture does, it is just a physical act. We are told it is going to be so satisfying, but really it just leaves us wanting. Its not that big off a deal. This is because we have taken the emotional from the physical. This probably is not news to anyone, but what really opened my eyes was how by doing this, sex really has become a commodity. It is able to sell because it never really satisfies. Sounds like the perfect product to me. Is that not the point? To always keep your customers wanting? These girls who are in bondage to their traffickers, they are the hot ticket. They are products that keep on giving. They will never go out of demand.
We went over the realities for these women. Their behavior and speech has all become sexualized. They cannot really relate to anyone outside of a sexual context. One of the quotes that was given to us was "You cannot serve as a toilet for men for long without thinking you are a toilet." This is so true. These girl's images of themselves have been forever tarnished. IF they get out of the sex industry, they are going to have a lifetime struggle with trust and self esteem. They will have difficulties having any kind of normal relationship, especially in the romantic realm. Their ability to have any connection to anyone has been severely impaired. How can they ever see sexual things as a good thing again?
We ended our session and began Greek lessons. I can now read Greek. I say this as in I can sound out the letters, but I have absolutely no idea what I am saying. I consider this an accomplishment. I do not think I will ever be prolific in this language so I am not too worried. As long as I can read street signs and be able to ask people where things are, I am good.
Our second session of training went into aftercare of the victims. We went through spiritual and practical aftercare. Ideas such as mentors and support groups. How to get them jobs. The need for deliverance in all their lives. The need for networking and the need for church support.There is a great need for counselors for these women. The turnover rate in this ministry is very high. Because of the emotional toll this area of work takes on a person, many cannot handle working with human trafficking and sex slavery, even though it is direly needed. There was a 9 country survey done in the EU in which they interviewed prostituted girls. 89% of the girls, whether they were there by "free will" or not, did not want to be apart of the sex industry anymore. They wanted out. But where are they to go? Their whole world and everything they know revolves around prostitution. In a sick way, this is where they have found family. They know how to work this world. They know how to get what they want and how to survive. They do not know how to live outside prostitution. They do not know how to do the basic things in life, such as how to grocery shop, pay bills, and budget. The real world is an unknown place for them. They can achieve status in their ring of prostitution. If they leave, they are poverty stricken, disrespected, and shamed. Do they even have a hope for a normal life? The realities of all this become overwhelming. Because of this many girls that get out of the sex industry go right back into it. It is comfortable and it is what they know. The road to recovery and healing is not easy. Sometimes it is better to just be numb.
That night was our first night doing outreach on the streets. I was a little timid because I was worried about what I might see in regards to all the sexual acts that would be happening in front of me. This was soon to be put all at ease. We arrived at the outreach center at about 11:30 pm and commenced our worship and prayer time. This time was so uplifting, and I really could feel the Lord's prescence. We spent over an hour reading the Word, singing praises, and lifting up the name of Jesus. We all felt refreshed and ready to go as soon as we were done.
As I walked down the street and arrived in the district that the Nigerian girls walked, I found myself feeling no horror. I was expecting some emotionally dramatic reaction, but for some reason I did not. Actually, I was struck by how beautiful the girls were. As I think back on this, I think in alot of ways I had dehumanized these girls. In my mind they were prostitutes and I had a dirty image of what they should be and look like. Quite the contrary. I found that these girls were my peers. They were all young, with some of the oldest being about my age. We split into groups. Some people stayed at the table with the tea and cookies, while some walked the streets to talk to the girls and invite them to the table. We all had a guy with us at all times who stood in the back watching and praying over us. I observed the girls chasing the cars down. A lot of men would drive through just to get a look or to make the girls run after their cars. It was sick that they thought that was funny as I sat there anxiously hoping none of the girls toes would get run over. As I walked down the street I would smile and say hi to the girls. They were mostly all very nice and would smile and wave at me. One girl came right up to me and gave me a hug. She was carrying a phone that played music and kept telling me "that we should dance". She seemed so joyful and full of life. It was a little shocking to me. Then I remembered that that is how they cope and the way that they get customers. Throughout the night, I would talk with girls, I would ask them if they wanted tea and see how they were doing. I would ask if they needed help in any way (such as medical, english or greek lessons, or help getting a new job). The more hardened ones did not respond as kindly as some. One girl took me aside to warn me that some men were planning on stealing Peter's (the guy watching me) necklace, and that he needed to hide it. She told me that "these are not good men." That was the understatement of the century.
The police would randomly drive through the streets and send the girls running into hiding. I was told that alot of the cops do this just cause they think it is funny. At one point towards the end of the night, some real police came and arrested some of the men in front of me. I think they did not have papers. One of the officers came over to talk to me. He was a very large man, and I could tell he was a father by his nature. He asked me what I was doing there and said it in a scolding manner. I promptly explained why I was there. He told me that "I should not be here", but seemed to soften towards me as he realized what we were there to do.
As the night came to a close, we all started to walk back to the outreach center. It was about 230 am. On the sidewalk I saw a girl sitting on a crate. Her head was down, and she did not look happy. At first I passed her, set on getting to my destination, but then I stopped and turned around. She looked so incredibly sad sitting all alone in the dark on that crate in the filth of that street. The overwhelming feeling that no girl should have to endure this scene and its indignities had been with me all night, but something about her lack of false joy struck me. I turned around and struck up a conversation with her. At first she told me that everything was "fine." It obviously was not. I told her she did not look very happy and asked if I could pray with her. She just looked up at me and said yes. I expected there to be a hardness in her, but there was none. I asked her what she would like me to pray for. She gently held out her hand to me and said "Please pray for God's favor in my life." At that moment my mind went completely blank. I just wanted to grab her and hold her and take her so very far away. God's favor? I have never been so humbled in my entire life. This poor girl, who very well could be me if i was born in a different time and situation, was asking me to ask God for favor for her. In my heart, I knew I would not ask. I would beg. Plead. I sat with her and prayed a short prayer making sure she knew how precious and loved she was. And I asked for God's favor in her life.
Please continually pray for this girl. We shall call her L. Pray for the team and pray for each one of these precious girls. I wish you could see them. It is not fair that their beauty must be betrayed on account of man's lust. Pray for freedom. Pray for deliverance. Pray for God's favor.

Psalms 119:58-60: I entreated Your favor with my whole heart; Be merciful to me according to Your word. I thought about my ways, And turned my feet to Your testimonies. I made haste, and did not delay To keep Your commandments.

Wednesday-A Day by the Sea

So we went to Aegina today for some team bonding time. Aegina is one of the Greek Islands. We took a ferry there. I love love the Sea. As we pulled up to Aegina I noticed that it seemed to look like a Nevada island (if Nevada had an island). Actually, most of Greece looks like Nevada to me. It is so hot and very dry, very much like the desert. The city part of Athens is pretty dirty. I am not a huge fan. Probably because we work in the not so nice areas, but the other day we took a hike up to Mount Muses which overlooks the city. It was absolutely breathtaking. I could see Mars Hill and the Acropolis right next to it. In Greece, they cannot build over any ruins or special places, so it was easy for me to imagine this place as it was Jesus time. In Athens, you can be walking and then "Oh hi ancient ruins." The people here walk amongst so many years of history and culture. It does not get dark til very late and the city keeps the area bright. It is not all dirty, there are areas filled with laughter and dancing. God is so good. I cannot get over all the different kinds of beauty I have been seeing. It really was awe inspiring to sit upon that Mount and look down on Mars Hill and picture Paul preaching about the God of the Isrealites. Mars Hill is right next to the Acropolis and it overlooks the entire city. What a wonderful place to tell a people about the one true living God; on a hill overlooking the beauty that God created. The land is so vast and filled with sounds of small animals and insects chirping in the trees. One could not deny there is a God from this vantage point. I cannot wait to climb Mars Hill, go to the Acropolis, and the Acropolis museum. All my studies dealing with Greek and Roman literature is coming alive here. Thank you UCSD.
Anyways, back to Aegina. I loved standing at the top of the boat, closing my eyes, and just feeling the wind. Considering its been over a hundred degrees most of the time we have been here ( all without air conditioning). The sea breeze was immensely refreshing. Once again, I was struck by the greatness of my Lord. I guess this seems to be a theme for me on this trip. I am really finding out who God is, and in turn who I am in Him. Everything I see causes me to praise Him. I am more of a reserved person, even in my expression of faith. I have never seen myself as someone who could just go out and proclaim who God was unsolicited to the world. I guess I am more relational. But there is something welling deep within me. Something that I cannot contain. There is this overwhelming joy and passion. A love that so consumes me that I cannot do anything but praise God for all that He is and all that He has done for me.
Aegina was beautiful. The little town was placed right next to port by all the boats. I loved looking at all the fishing boats and the homes that were so colorful. It was beauty that a city by the sea could only hold. My favorite building was painted bright yellow with bright blue trim. There were window boxes filled with flowers and on the exterior someone had painted flowers. Outside sat a antique table with chairs that two old ladies sat at. Mom, Kathy, Grandma, you would have loved it. This is where I fell in love with the Greek people. There were so many old men and women on this island. They sat at the cafes overlooking the sea talking and enjoying life together. I began to watch and appreciate their culture, their community. The old men would get into groups and the old women in another group. I do not know what they talked about, but the sense of community was so strong. All their old faces, wrinkled and leathery from years in the sun, hold so many stories and so much history. Greece is not just a land filled with landmarks of history, but it is a land full of people with a rich personal culture and history. What had that old man looking at the Sea in silence, with dark skin and piercing blue eyes, do for most of his life? What had he seen? Had he loved a woman deeply? What pain had he felt? What brought him joy? I try to discretely get photos of the people, but its hard. I think I am just going to start asking if I may take their picture.
We rented bikes and biked around the island. Do I even need to describe the feeling of riding a bike along the Mediternean? I looked out at the blue Sea and admired all the boats and the colors. The island got even more brown and desert-like as we left the village, but it was colored by bright flowers such as magenta bougainvilleas . We stopped at a beach cafe by the Sea. It was SOOO hot. Immediately jumped in the water and stayed there until I was pruning. We had lunch next to the Sea and relaxed by the beach then headed back to the village so we could leave. I so enjoyed my time there. It was great to bond with the team. The full time missionaries explained to us that this ministry is so emotionally draining that it is really important that they all take trips and time for themselves or they will go crazy. When you deal with so much darkness and pour so much of yourself into others, it would make sense that you would need time to care for yourself.
I am so thankful for the love of Christ. There is nothing like knowing that you are loved no matter what. I think it may be the single most important thing someone can realize in their life. You are loved. Wholly and completely just as you are. No matter what, there is one who has an unending love for you.
"Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned."
Song of Solomon 8:6-7

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Light and Darkness

Today started out with Greek lessons. I now completely understand why they say "Its all Greek to me". This language is ridiculously hard. We do not use the same alphabet.The p does not make a p sound. It makes a rr sound etc.. The woman would call on each of us and have us sound out words based on the alphabet we had just learned. Everyone tried to pretend like they were super focused on writing so she would not call on us, but she spared none. All in all, we spent about an hour butchering the Greek language.
After our Greek Lesson, a Nigerian woman came in to talk to us about the specific culture of the Nigerian women we would be working with. Nigeria has a population of about 120 million. Of this large group of people, there are more then 250 ethnic groups and 400 different dialects. Because of this vast diversity of language, the main language of Nigeria is English. This is why we will be working with them specifically. We can actually interact and have a conversation with the girls. In Nigeria, the North is mostly Muslim, and they follow Sri Law. The girls cannot leave the house without permission from a male figure, thus they do not really receive any education outside of domestic duties. In the South, there is a mixture of Muslims and Christians. Here, the women are looked to to provide for their families. They often run the businesses, and support their families. The girls do get an education, but this is often interrupted by the fact that they must help out with the family business. This leaves no time for homework and ever actually learning anything. Arranged marriages are commonplace in Nigeria. The woman who spoke with us had actually had one. In the South the woman is allowed to choose after a period of courtship if she likes who her family picked. In the North, the woman has no say.
Most of the women we will be working with all come from a small SW region called Edo State. Surprisingly, the reason so many are from the same area is because family members or friends of family members are the ones who go back to their homeland and recruit. A cousin or an uncle may go back to his village with large sums of money and offer a relative a chance to go to Europe. A chance to have wealth, travel, and take care of their families. This creates a endless circle of prostitution with people within this part of Nigeria. They are often told they are going to go to the bars and just "dance". Even in some cases, the mothers pressure the girls. They see other girls who became prostitutes and come back bearing gifts, and they become envious. "Look at her mother and how rich she dresses. Do you want me to die in poverty?" One woman that was rescued from the streets was told by an uncle that she would just do hair for the other girls. That turned out to be a lie. The girls are mostly illiterate. They are primary school dropouts who cannot read or write. They are also mostly teenagers. We are tld we will see as young as twelve. It costs about 2,000 euros to get them to Greece. At most it would cost 5,000 euros. The girls are required and told they must pay back an amount upwards of 60,000 euros.
Traditional worship is still in practice today in Nigeria. Traditional worship is what we call voodoo. There are still JuJu priests that the people go to with prayers and requests. They are often required to make sacrifices or pay based on the requests. In some rare cases, depending on what is wanted, even human sacrifice is required. The madams and pimps use this against these women. Before they take them away, they bring the girl to the JuJu doctor. He preforms rituals and incantations on them. They are forced to take oaths of secrecy from ever disclosing what they are doing in Greece or what their pimps are making them do. They are told that if they break these oaths they will be cursed. Terrible things will happen to their families and to themselves. Often the pimps will bring all the materials to preform these spells on the women while they are in the brothels. These women are in bondage in every way possible: physically, mentally, and spiritually. The threat of demonic attack often makes it hard for the girls to open up. They are terrified of the witchcraft that binds them.
One of of the men in our team was able to go out on an outreach with another team before us. The theme of the outreach was light and darkness. Ironically enough, when everyone came together for a time of worship and prayer before going out into the streets and brothels, the power went out. Then some of the women experienced their purses getting slashed so that thieves could steal what was inside. What a way to start an outreach.
After worship, they split into teams. One team went to the bars and another went to the brothels. Chris was on the team that went to the brothels. The men here have the duty of praying the entire time and watching out for the safety of the team girls as they go out and talk to the prostituted women. The men are not allowed to speak with the girls. They were not having alot of luck as the team was turned away brothel after brothel.
Finally, at the second to last brothel, the Madame let her girl talk to a team member. The prostituted woman was a Greek girl who had been in the brothel for awhile. This woman began to open up, although she could only get parts of her story out at a time because she would have to leave for a little while to preform her services, and then she would return. She told them that after she worked her shifts in the brothel she goes home to a tiny one room apartment. As soon as she is in the room, she shuts and locks the door, collapses on the floor, closes her legs, and pulls them tightly to her chest. She just lays there and holds herself in a little ball. She said that it is only in this time, lying on the cold floor in a shabby apartment, that she is herself. It is the only time she knows who she is.
What do you even say to a story like that? I cannot picture a worse prison. I cannot imagine going through life just existing. Living in a self-induced daze in order to not crumble, in order to just survive. Going from one place of darkness to another, never entering into the light. The only place this woman is able to find some sliver of comfort is in a dark room where she still suffers alone. She must hold on to herself so tightly because if she lets go she is not safe. Many of the girls suffer terribly from nightmares. I am sure this woman is no stranger to night terrors. Her life is one.
The last thing that this woman said to the team member was that they (Nea Zoi) were doing the Lord's work. They should continue and persevere in this work. The woman said that although she was too lost, that Nea Zoi would be able to save many girls. She said that all of these people working with Nea Zoi would be blessed. She proclaimed that not only would God bless them for what they were doing, but He would bless their children and their grandchildren and teh generations to come. Later on, they learned that this woman's name meant light.
Let us pray that this woman and the other woman who live in this horrible nightmare see the light of Christ. May they know the love and joy that we find in our Lord Jesus. May they rest and be comforted in his arms. May Light pierce their darkness and set them free.

Isaiah 50:10
10 Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the word of his servant? Let him who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.

Psalm 4:6
6 Many are asking, "Who can show us any good?" Let the light of your face shine upon us, O LORD.

Psalm 36:9
9 For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Into the Brothels

There are times in our lives that merit silence. This happens to be one of those times for me. I do not know if I can accurately put into words what I feel or what I have learned so far. I have only had the orientation and first teaching about what we are dealing with and already my heart is heavy.
Did you know that there are 270,000 documented victims of human trafficking in the EU? The UN states that you must times this by 30 to really get an accurate picture of the amount of people in bondage in the EU alone. Eighty percent of the victims are women and fifty percent are children. Human trafficking is the second most lucrative illegal business behind drug trafficking. It brings in about 45 billion dollars a year. That happens to be more then Coca-Cola, Walmart, and McDonalds all make... combined. Of the people trafficked into the EU each year 90% end up in the sex industry. Only 1-2% of victims are rescued, and only 1 in 100,000 europeans involved in trafficking are convicted.
In relation to Greece, it is estimated that a little over half the sexually active men in Greece participate in sex services. It is not uncommon for a father to take his son to the "family prostitute" for his first sexual encounter. We walked around the brothels, and went to one of the streets we would be doing outreaches on during the women's working hours (11 pm - 3am). The white light that shines over the doors at the brothels means there is a woman in there working. In each brothel, one woman and one madam, with an 8 hour shift. The men go to the brothel, the woman steps out from behind a curtain, half-naked, and they access her. If she is not what they want, they move on to the next brothel. A prostitutes life is one of rejection and judgement. These brothels run 24/7. Because of the economic decline, the women cannot be too disparaging in what their clients request of them. Thus, they have to do more and more degrading and risky things that these perverts request.
How can a woman stay in this? How do they allow themselves to get involved? Do they do this to themselves? Is it their choice? Honestly, I do not know how you even begin to differentiate any of these questions. Many of these women wanted out of their country, they were starving, they needed money for their families, they had no where to go, they were alone, they were lied to, and they were taken advantage of. One of the women that works here full time said "It is humbling to see how these women are just a few bad life circumstances away from being me. Look what I have and look what they have." 90% of women who are apart of the sex industry have been sexually abused. This realm is full of woman who are unwanted, shamed, and alone. Many do not leave because they cannot go home, they have shamed their entire family. They leave or they will be beat. They have been arrested so many times that there is no way they are getting papers. How would they even be able to support themselves on the jobs that they would get outside of prostitution? They have no skills. They live life in fear and disillusionment. Last November a woman was beat to death because she was not bringing in enough money.
My heart breaks for these girls. Many are between the ages of 14 -20. That is the age of my little sister and I. As a girl, I know the desire to be loved and cherished. To twirl, to play, and be delighted in. We all have the desire to be the love of someone's life. We want to be known and wanted. Oh, the joy that comes from being adored by one's father... by others. To know that you are safe and secure and that no one can take that from you. Is this not the desire of every girl deep down inside? Do we not all long to be princesses in our own fairytale? The women that work with these girls say a common comment of the girls as to why they can't leave prostitution is "Who would want me? I am worthless. " I am worthless. I am nothing. I am not loved. I am not cherished. I am soiled. I am unworthy. Who would want me? Who would love me? I am not precious. I am not beautiful. I am alone, and I am worthless. This grieves me. All I can picture is a little girl about the age of my baby sister or one of my little cousins sitting in the window of this brothel with so much hurt in their eyes thinking these thoughts. Believing these thoughts about themselves. No hope. No future of happiness. No true life. The tender innocence and youth torn from them, only to be replaced by a bitterness and hardness that will flavor the rest of their lives.
It took everything within me not to sob during this meeting. I just wanted my Dad at that moment. I cannot handle the thought of anyone being unloved. It took me awhile before I could even talk because I knew if I opened my mouth I was going to lose it. The Lord really spoke to me as I prayed and walked in silence for the next hour.
"Shelbi, do you know that I love you?" "Yes, Lord" "Do you think I love you anymore then I love these girls?" "No, of course not Lord." "Who am I Shelbi?" "You are Lord, You are Father and Saviour, You are gracious and kind and loving." "Shelbi who am I?" "You are the one who comes to bring life and life abundantly. You bring hope to the hopeless." "Shelbi, Who am I?" "Lord, you are Love." "Now go and abide in me."
Jesus wants these girls. He longs to love them. He longs to bring them hope and joy. Who will bring the light to their darkness?

"The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound" -Isaiah 61:1

(quoted again in Luke 4:18)

Welcome to Greece

So I have finally arrived in Greece. A very large greek man has already tried to set me up with his son since being here. While we were on the plane the father got up from his seat next to me, told his son to come over, that I was from California, and to sit down. He then proceeded to come up at different times in the flight to tell his son to tell me (as if I could not hear) that they would pick me up in Athens whenever I wanted and show me Greece. The poor boy seemed embarassed, but he was very nice so it was not too awkward. Of course this story does not end here considering I am involved. As we were landing, I was telling the boy about how alot of people have thrown up next to me. Like 4 people. I would say that is a lot considering they were all do to motion sickness. Most of them being boys that had a crush on me. In Italy, I had a little boy throw up at the beginning of the bus ride next to me so it seemed I was cursed. We had laughed about this until I noticed he was sweating. Now he was a very large Greek boy so I thought this had to do with it, but no.. sure enough the poor guy started puking. I nicely gave him my bag when he needed another one. Poor guy. Moral of the story, if you get motion sickness at all, do not sit next to me.
Athens is quite a busy city full of graffitti. Like alot of the historic cities I have been in lately its interesting to see all the historical landmarks and ruins just sitting there in the middle of the city, everyone living there completely oblivious to the tremendous history and age of the places and things most of us just learn about in books. I really cannot wait to see Mars Hill, the temple of Zeus and the Acropolis.
I am staying at a missionaries house while the family is on furlough. Its so nice! The girls on our team are great, and I am so looking forward to getting to know them. My heart is full after so much great fellowship with Pastor Aidoo and his family, as well as great time spent with my amazing sorority sisters. I cannot help but sing all the time in my head the song about rejoicing. I just feel so happy :-) Below I will put the verse that has really been on my heart lately. Tomorrow we have our orientation and we will walk the brothels. So it begins.

Philippians 4:4-7
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Cinque Terre- Example of God's Artistry

We went to Cinque Terre this weekend. Cinque Terre is actually five towns on the coast of Italy along the Mediterranean. You can hike to each of them once you get to the first one or you can just take a 2 minute train ride through the mountains. I was completely unprepared for what I saw. It was breathtaking, The first village we went to was Maranola. This was the one that when we googled Cinque Terre most the pictures came up from. Once we got off the train we did not know where to go, but sooon found the most gorgeous walk ever. We had to pay 5 Euro to walk to Maranola, but it was worth it. The walk of love or something di amore was what the pathway was called. It wound along the mountains and the sea. All along the walkways there was steel hearts and wire. On these things couples would place locks to signify their unending love for each other. We were definitely in a honeymoon spot. The village of Maranola is like one big hill. You walk up the streets in the midst of tall vibrant buildings of red, yellow, and blue. Olive oils, postcards, and homemade jewelry all line the streets. I loved peeking into the different stairwells and seeing how they wound up into the buildings and different doorways. Everyone in Italy hangs their Laundry outside their windows and it was no different here so you can always see an ample supply of laundry. I dont think they use dryers. Probably better for the clothes anyways. We had not reserved a room because we thought we could find one when we got to Cinque Terre. False. Turns out this place is a hotspot and since the villages were so small we were only able to get a room for one night in a different town. The tourist lady was nice enough to let us leave our luggage with her, so we changed into our bathingsuits grabbed our purses and headed down towards the water. We ate at a little restaurant first by the sea. I had ravioli seabass. It was amazing. Carbs carbs everywhere. The bread they serve at every restaurant is straight from their bakeries. I am almost not even hungry for a meal after I am done eating the bread haha. After we finished eating we hopped down to go swimming. I have never been anywhere so beautiful. There was no sand, just rocks. The water was a beautiful blue I cannot even describe. Crystal clear. I looked up a word to describe the color and all I got was Mediteranean Blue. It is so beautiful it has its own color. The girls and I went rock jumping into the water. We would look up at the green mountains and the colorful city and marvel at where we were. "OMG can you believe this" "this is so unreal" and "I feel like I am in a dream" were all phrases that were repeated over and over. After we swam and took pictures we headed up for our luggage and on to the next town. This town was called Corniglia. We stepped off the train and all we saw was sea and road. Where was Corniglia? The answer: Up. A few tourists from Oklahoma grabbed us and showed us the way. We could not see a town but we could see stairs that led into a mass of green. I looked at my little rollaway suitcase and wished it was a backpack. This was not a problem for long. The guys showing us how to get to Corniglia were from Oklahoma and later on I found out were Christians so there was no way they were going to let me carry my suitcase up the 370 stairs (we looked it up). The other girls turned down the offers for the boys to carry their things, but not me. I was all about that haha. Turned out two of the guys had been traveling since February. They had been all over, and not just in Europe, Africa too. As soon as we breached the green we still could not see a town. So we kept walking, and then there we were. Possibly the most quaint, picturesque town I have ever seen. Corniglia is built into the mountains and once you reach the city there is no place for cars. There are stairs and that is it. The houses go straight up in Italian fashion and are very close together. I wondered how old the village was, I imagine really old. The Oklahomans told us that people in this village have lived up to 120 years old. The low stress environment plus all the stairs that force them to keep active makes them live a long time I guess. I loved how all the villagers just sat outside their doors. People were so kind and I really enjoyed seeing so many elderly people. The little kids were so cute. The old people took so much joy in the little ones. I hardly ever saw a child with their parent. They always seemed to surround the older folks. What a wonderful sense of community. The view of the ocean was wonderful, but i so enjoyed seeing a place where the people loved and cared for each other. They supported one another. They fought. I witnessed a coupe of fights actually that were pretty funny. Italians are so passionate. So much PDA and so much public fighting, but so much love :-) The last town we went to was Monterossa. This was a beach town and we had a blast laying on the sand until we were so sweaty we couldnt take it anymore.. then running into the water. Sooo many speedos were there. I am so glad that is not part of our culture. I for one prefer to have my Mom leave her top on at the beach and for my Dad to wear his swim trunks. But thats just me ha.. Now on to Florence :-)

The Problems Bella are in the Hospital

I had heard Rome was really dirty, but I was not prepared for what I saw. It looked like a third world country. The airport and train station were not nice at all. It was not that they were old.. they were just dirty and not taken care of. I had wanted to get out and explore Rome, but after traveling so much and seeing what Rome looked like from the train, I really had no desire to venture out with all my luggage by myself. So I headed straight for Florence. I arrived in Florence at 3 pm. Florence is absolutely beautiful. It is full of old churches and architecture. The whole town looks like old Italy. You do not see any new buildings anywhere. My friends were not at the train to pick me up so I waited a little and tried to find them. Finally I realized they were not coming so I got a cab and told him to take me to an internet cafe. We drove round looking for one and he was very nice ( he probably drove me around to run up the cost but he was such a nice old man and I was happy to have company) I saw the Dumo and other cathedrals. Finally we found the internet cafĂ© and I tried to reach my friends. After an Hour and a half I went on a search for where I thought their apt was. I noticed in Italy all the people are very nice. Many asked if I needed help as I dragged all my luggage across the cobblestone streets of Florence. You get to hear "Chiao Bella" about a billion times as you walk by. I sat outside of what I thought was their apt but it was not it. So I dragged all my stuff back to the internet cafe. The poor internet man. I was so tired, jetlagged, and hungry at this point, it was really hard not to cry. They told me not to worry. That “the problems were in the hospital. Look around you are in Italy, Florence, The most beautiful city. You have no problems, the problems are in the hospital.” Then they would make me repeat it to them. God is so good! Even now and for a long time I will look back on that day and remember where the problems are. I needed that reminder for life. How blessed am I? How blessed are we all? Well, it was about 3 hours til I got in touch with my friends and finally got to their apartment. There had been a miscommunication and they had thought I was arriving that night. Oh well. I got to go out to an Italian restaurant and have some pasta. Sooooo good! Maybe I will leave Italy looking like my picture from my airport fiasco haha That night the jet lag wore off and I was finally able to sleep more the two hours. I forgot how much I loved sleep. The next day we left for Cinque Terre so I will tell you more about Florence when I explore it!

Saturday, July 3, 2010

I have no shame.

So this is where my day in London stars to go downhill. I arrive to Gatwick airport nice and early before my flight. I pick up a pastie to eat. This is some kind of curry chicken calzone that was very satisfying. Finally., It is time to get my boarding pass and check in. I get up to the front of Mediana desk and the lady informs me that I am only allowed 2 bags. That is it. She flatly tells me that my backpack, even though it is not large, is considered a carry on not a personal item. That makes my carry on bag an extra piece of luggage. This woman then informs me that on top of the fact that I have three bags, my main bag is overweight plus my extra bag, and she will be charging me 12 pounds (roughly 24 dollars) for every kg I am over the limit. I was 15 kg over. Now, I am not going to pay an extra $360 for my luggage. I start to beg. She tells me to throw stuff away or just leave things in London. I want to kill her at this point. She is not only not trying to help my plight, she is completely unsympathetic and an idiot. I obviously am not from London so where would my stuff go? I had explained to her I am going to be in Europe for two months traveling, these are necessary items. I am not going to throw away clothes. She promptly hands me my passport back and tells me to come back when I figure it out. That is when I realized. There is only way to end this war. I needed to make my luggage lighter, and there is no rule against how much clothing I can wear. I make my way to the bathroom and somehow squeeze my way into the stall. At first I just stare at the suitcase and start to think thoroughly about what this means. “You will never see these people again” I kept reminding myself. Here is the running total of what I put on:

Underwear: 13

Pants: 3 (my pants could not button at all and my sweatpants drawstrings hung out from my nice business suit pants)

Socks: 5 under a pair of running shoes. It completed my fat person bloated look.

Skirt: 1 This was useful in hiding the fact my pants were not zipped.

Dress: 2 I put on my business dress that goes up to my neck and then my strapless lacy one.

Shirts: 13

Bras: 3

Sports bra: 1

Button up nice shirts: 3.. ( I put the largest one on the outside of all the shirts.

Belt: 1 stretchy that I put around my waist.

Scarves: 3

Suit Jacket: 1 ( most of my shirts were tank tops besides the 3 buttonups.. so I was able to get my arms through but the jacket wouldn’t close. )

I then took my pea coat and held it and put some other sweaters inside it. I threw away 3 notebooks, a really large book, all my gum, my first aid kit, and all my hangers. By the time I was done I was sweating profusely. This made me feel even fatter then I already felt. I was so hot that I had to put my hair up, plus it was getting in the way. So I threw it up into a bun on the top of my head. I realize this looks ridiculous, but I had to. SO there I was with all my clothing. I just looked in the mirror and laughed. I felt like I was wearing a chastity belt and my feet were starting to lose circulation. Every time I bent or moved it was strenuous. But I did it. I then proceeded to walk out into the airport over to the woman’s desk. I cant really explain the looks people gave me, but there were a lot of snickers. At random times I felt like bursting into tears because I was so tired, so uncomfortable and hot, I looked huge, my feet were numb, my chastity belt was cutting off circulation at my hips, and people were staring at me. It was like my worst nightmare except that I kept giggling because it really was funny. The airline lady looked shocked. She was trying not to laugh, and I was trying not to hit her. I realized that I had the padding advantage and I could totally hit her like I was wearing one of those fat sumo suits. I was still over, but this time only over 5 kg. After running around trying to find the place to pay for excess baggage, I finally get my boarding pass from the woman. Now it is time to pass security. As I walk up to the place where you put your carry on in to get checked, the security lady asked me to take off my jacket. Are you kidding me? So I took my jacket off and my scarves. I was not going to go beyond that. I am a blonde haired, blue eyed American who has so little shame that she has her made herself into a human clothing rack. I hardly think I qualify as a terrorist. Her comment was “Wow you are wearing a lot of the clothing.. that will make it hard if we need to pad you down.” Thankfully, the woman that was on the other side of the scanner just let me through. I now focused all my attention on getting to my gate and hiding til I got onto the plane. Turns out I had to walk through two very crowded waiting/shopping areas and my gate was at the end of the airport. WONDERFUL. I did not look anyone in the eye. I got to my gate and fell asleep. There was no one by my gate this entire time. They were all in the waiting areas by the shops, for this I was grateful. My flight ended up getting delayed twice so finally I went to the bathroom and took some folders out of my bag and crammed some clothes in. Long story short. My flight got canceled. I did all that. FOR NOTHING. I got all my luggage back and put all the clothing in it. There were 80 of us waiting at that airport for four hours til the told us they canceled. The airline offered us no promise for booking the next day, we would have to get there early and hope we could get a flight. People were furious. I was glad that everyone now hated this woman. I found great joy as she was bombarded with angry yells in all sorts of languages for the next two hours as she tried to find us hotels and placate the travelers. I called home and got a flight to Rome on a different airline. There were no flights left to Florence til late the next day and even that was not promised. I will get to Rome and take the train to Florence. Plus, I was not going through that whole ordeal ever again. I talked to a older woman and her husband from New York that were stuck in London with me. I started to explain to the lady my day, but she already knew. “Oh yes, I saw you.” Great. Hi, I am Shelbi . Welcome to my life.