Sunday, December 10, 2011
At Soma Cafe, continued...
Most of us had never been in a Nepali dance bar, and didn't even really know what one was. Basically, it is a bar with a stage where girl dancers dance provocatively to loud popular beats and music. Because Nepal is a conservative kind of place, the girls usually aren't so scantily clad; it is still more than enough to distract a man like myself, in all honesty.
The whole production is of course meant to do this. What happens is that in between dances, the girls come out to the bar area and speak with potential customers. It all appears innocent, as per the unprogressive Nepali style. Even the provocative dancing at times seems more hidebound. Everything is very covert. Eventually numbers are exchanged and the customer agrees to meet with the girl at a later time and place, at which point the acts of prostitution occur.
Continued on Sunday, December 11, 2011, at the Delhi Airport, at 7:15 PM
It was a little awkward at first, walking into that dance bar, and seeing a girl dancing on the stage, with two male dancers backing her up. She was the main event, and some people in the crowd were cheering her on. She wore a smile. It looked like she was happy doing what she was doing, and I can see why Nepalis and Westerners alike can be easily deceived into thinking thoughts like, What's the matter? Let her go, she's making money and enjoying herself. I'm not saying that every dance bar girl does not want to be there, I'm merely saying things are not what they seem. It is a lot more complicated than it appears.
So there I was, along with the other abolishionists, throwing out silent prayers onto the situation and asking God to reach out and help these girls. I won't hide the fact that it was quite distracting, being a man and trying to do that. When I wasn't awkwardly looking away (you're expected to watch, of course!), I was trying hard to keep my eyes on her face. I had to appear interested for the operation to work out, but when I actually found myself interested, I would force myself to look away. It's not exactly natural for a man to look away from a beautiful Nepali girl. It's also not “natural” for a beautiful Nepali girl to be forced to dance like this. You can decide which one was more important for this moment. My psyche was in a weird state; it went from being distracted to focused on prayer, and then back again.
The music was entrancing too. The heavy beats made me want to get up and dance, but that's not really the norm at these places – dancing is reserved for the those on stage – so I just sat there and nodded my head to the beat. Rob, one of the other guys with us told me that if they put on Bieber, he was going to have to get up and dance. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but later on when Bieber's popular tune came blasting through the speakers, Rob was singing along with a big grin on his face. He must be one of those die-hards.
At some point, the girls in our group started up a conversation with a couple of the girl dancers. This was as planned, because things can quickly deteriorate if one of the guys talks to a girl. She might get the wrong idea, and the whole operation could just implode. The point is to take it one step at a time, to see how much the girl opens up, and to see what her needs are, while keeping the entire moment wrapped in prayer and discernment. Our goal was to get their numbers, so we could meet them somewhere later to offer to help them out of their situation. But we wouldn't be able to help them unless they wanted it.
At first it was awkward, and I didn't think anything would happen. Over the course of the evening however, things really opened up for us, and we ended up talking to at least three or four girls. When I say “we” I mean it was mostly our abolishionist girls doing the talking while Brian and Rahul translated. The guys hung out at a distance, didn't say much, and mostly kept the conversations covered in silent prayer. The group bought the girls drinks (like Coca Cola) and I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly some of them were able to open up. I enjoyed watching everyone interact on this real level with these girls. It was a joy to be a part of it, even if by just silently praying for them as they talked with us.
There was one girl in particular, that I had the opportunity to interact with a bit. I'll call her Shati. Those of us around the table were all talking to her with either Brian or Rahul translating. Shati is 20 years old, and has been working at this dance bar for a year. When her father died and her mother became sick, there was no one to take care of the family. Shati turned to “dancing” here at night while cleaning houses during the day, in order to help pay her family's bills and to put her little brother through school. Out of the three or four girls we had talked to, she was the most outspoken about wanting to get out of dance bar routine. We had tried to convince Shati to call us later at a number Brian had given her, so we could meet up and talk some more. The hope was to be able to get a better assessment on her situation, and then maybe have our girls take her out shopping or something. Eventually, we'd tell her about one of the safe houses Brian has connections with. Shati said that she wanted to call us later on, but that she didn't have a cell phone.
At some point a light bulb went off in my head: I could give her my phone.
I was only going to be around in Nepal a few days more anyway, really there was not much of a need for it. I had been planning to give my phone to Roshan, who is in need of one because his is broken, but it seemed obvious that it was more important Shati had one.
I discussed this prospect with Brian, as the music pounded our ears, and he thought well enough of it to give me the go-ahead. It would have to be discrete though, so the watchful male managers wouldn't catch it, lest they become suspicious and view it as an escape attempt on Shati's part (which, well, I guess it was just that). I copied down numbers from my phone that I thought I'd need at some point, then went into the bathroom and took out the SIM card, looking behind me to make sure one of the guy workers didn't come in and catch me fiddling with a cell phone. I had been using my friend Roshan's SIM card since I first arrived in Nepal, and he would need it back. Shati would be able to find another SIM card elsewhere, at least that's what Brian thought.
I then came back and sat next to one of my fellow abolishionists – a girl from my home state actually – and told her the plan. I slid the phone out of my pocket and put it on the seat, in-between us. We were close enough together that no one could see it. She picked it up, hid it in her pocket, and then motioned for Shati to come with her to the bathroom where Shati was given the phone.
We ended up praying for Shati, right there in the dance bar. As we left the bar later on, I was stoked about how well the night went. The ball was now in Shati's court, because she had a cell phone. She said she would call us the following Saturday. There were also plans made to come back the next day to meet up with another girl who said she'd be outside the bar at a certain time.
I told the team to keep me posted on what happens with these girls in the future, as I won't be there to see it. I'm flying back to the States tomorrow.
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