Posted in India by Erika Clark on 5/9/2011
For the first two weeks in Kolkata, I absolutely refused to
acknowledge that there was anything negative about the place. I loved everything about it, and no one
could convince me otherwise. That
all came crashing down during my second weekend there.
Perhaps the reason I had loved the city so much was because
I was so insulated from it.
Really, the only interaction that I had with anyone other than my team
or the awesome people we were working with during our ministry was during my
commute. Granted, the commute was
stressful and time consuming, but after a few days, we had it figured out and
were no longer shocked by every thing I saw.
The time that I had a LOT of interaction with the locals was
on weekends. Everyone knew my name
because my team was some of the only white people there, so we stood out- even
though I was wearing my sari. This
particular Saturday, I was with a few teammates out in the market trying to buy
a gift for my friend Dharma in Maryland.
Many of the beggars in Kolkata are very crafty. The women run this particular scam
where they are holding out an empty baby bottle and asking you to go buy
formula for their starving child (sometimes they are also carrying a baby,
sometimes not). This is very
common in the Sutter Street area (which is very "touristy" because of its
proximity to Mother House, Mother Theresa's facility where many people from
around the world make a pilgrimage.)
It really pulls on your heartstrings- even when you are living on $2/day;
you want to give it all if it means a baby will get to eat. The problem is that many of these women
don't even have babies, and what they do is have you purchase the formula from
a particular store of their choice. They have an arrangement with the shop owner where you will
be charged a much higher price for the formula, and then as soon as you leave,
they will return it to the shop and get the refund- so they are doing it just
as a creative way to get cash.
This is apparently a well enough known scam that you are warned both in
the Lonely Planet travel guidebooks and the Mother House welcome briefing.
So, during this day in the markets, a woman came to me with
the empty bottle and asked for me to help her feed her baby. I said, "No, I'm sorry. Not today." She kept trying to get me to commit to a time when I would
help her if I were not going to help on that day. I didn't want to be mean to her, but I also wasn't going to
go along with her scam, so I kept saying, "No, I'm sorry". She finally left and went to my teammate
Katie who was about 10 feet away.
Katie called out to me, "Hey- I need just a second. I'm going to buy some formula for this
lady and then we can go". I called
her over and told her what was going on, and then she told the lady that she
wouldn't buy the formula for her.
Even as I write this, I know that some of you must think
that I sound like an awful person.
Who wouldn't want to help this woman? Maybe she was the exception and maybe there really was a
baby this time? Believe me, I
know. Probably one of the hardest
struggles for my whole team during our month in India was how to respond to the
overwhelming poverty that we saw.
We were told both by our contact and by Mother House that we were only
contributing to the problem if we encouraged the beggars by giving them
money. It was hard... so hard,
especially as missionaries who love people and came to serve to say 'no' to
someone in need. I still haven't
worked this out fully in my heart and mind, but when you are in a country for
only 1 month, I don't know how much sense you can truly make of it. Okay, back to my story.
So when the women realized that I had told Katie what was
going on, she came over to me, punched me in the stomach, and put what sounded
like some kind of Hindu curse on me.
She cursed me, my family, and any children that we would have. She called me a "stupid girl", and said
that I was a "very bad woman".
One of the things that the Lord is working out in me on this
journey is to not put equal weight into every comment that I hear about
myself. If someone I barely know
says something not very nice about me, I take it totally to heart. Why? I know it is totally illogical, but that is how I roll. I think that maybe they have really
'figured me out' and really know me.
I am always surprised when someone meets me and likes me. I am still surprised that my team knows
me as well as they do-having walked through life and lived in community with me
these past 4 months and they love me so much. Blows my mind.
We headed back
to the hostel after that, and my heart was heavy. Was what she said true? Did I become some kind of heartless monster? What would it have really hurt if I
just gave her all of my rupees?
How can I say that I have come to love these people if I am not willing
to give them everything that I have?
To be honest, I am still wrestling through that, and it was over a month
ago.
I did not have restful sleep that night. I know that satan has power in this
world, and all I could think was, "What if Jaimie and I get pregnant, and then
have a miscarriage?" I knew that I
would always bring it back to that day that I didn't help the poor woman in
Kolkata, and I would blame myself even more than I'm sure I already will be.
The next day, we were supposed to go to church with our
contact, and then they were going to show us kind of a 'behind the scenes tour'
of Kolkata. I had been so excited
about it. But I lied to my team
and told them I was having stomach issues (totally believable in India) and
needed to stay back. So they all
went on, and I had the room to myself- to beat myself up about being the worst
missionary to ever live, being a heartless monster, and my bad decisions
causing potential problems for my future children and current family. I cried for 8 hours straight. I just allowed myself to slip deeper
and deeper into darkness, and it was a scary place that I wound up in. Then I knew that I needed to
leave. I got on expedia.com and
started pricing one-way plane tickets back to Boston. I just wanted to be with my family, and I knew that
everything that my friends and family had spoken over me before the trip- about
how I was strong and courageous and was going to go fight injustice and save the
world... it was all untrue. And I
was a huge disappointment. So I
e-mailed the hubbs in Afghanistan and asked him if I could drain our savings
account to buy a ticket home. I
was going to leave either that Monday or Tuesday in total defeat. And I was completely fine with
that.
I felt like I had gone on the World Race, and found out who
I really was- and it wasn't good.
When I left home and joined the military when I was barely 18, it was
not under good terms- but I felt so much redemption when I went up to Boston
for the month after Jaimie left and before leaving on the World Race because
both of my sisters made such a big deal out of me being there. They planned all kinds of fun sister
dates for us to go on, and there have been few times in my life when I have
felt so very loved. They poured
into me, and that is why I was able to go on this trip and pour into other
people in the first place. So, at
28 years old, all I wanted was to run home to my family.
Sooo... when I spoke with Jaimie, he said "no" to me flying
home. He said that he didn't care
about the money, but he knew that I would never forgive myself if I left, and I
needed to lean on my team and let them help me rather than running away. I love that I am married to a man who
loves me too much to let me be any less than God's best for me. This was not my opinion at the time,
however.
So by Monday morning, I was a freaking mess. I had been crying all day on Sunday,
didn't sleep much again on Sunday night, and by Monday morning I was just
completely done. Kristen asked us
all how we were doing and how our weekend was... and I lost my crap. I was trying to explain it to them, and
they all got super pissed. They
could see that there was a lot of spiritual attack going on, and they started praying
for me, and telling me specifically which things that I was believing that were
lies. And then something really
crazy happened- the darkness started lifting off of me.
After that, I stayed back from ministry for a couple of
hours to pray and rest. And I am
so thankful that I was in a much better place emotionally and spiritually
because of what came next.
On my way to the metro, in addition to the standard
onslaught, I also got my butt grabbed by some creepy Indian man. I had been warned that this was a
possibility, and I often wore Indian clothing to try to avoid that, but on this
particular day, I was in sweat pants and a t-shirt since we were doing
construction at the ministry site.
I got very angry, especially since it was a completely inappropriate
sexual overture- directed at me, a missionary, who is there to do construction
work in a facility for women who are coming out of a life where they have been
sexually exploited by these same Indian men.
That same day, on the way home Cameron, Kylie and I stopped
at our favorite street food vender for dinner. While we were sitting on a bench waiting for the food to be
cooked, we felt water drops and thought it had started raining. But when we looked up, we realized that
there were 4 young men standing on the balcony a few stories up... hocking lugies
onto us. We gave them a dirty look
and thought they were finished, but a few minutes later, they started spitting
on us again.
Two days later, I was really bothered by how itchy my head
was. Several of the girls on my
team and the team we joined with ended up having lice back in Thailand, but
when they checked my head, I was free and clear. "Just in case" I had Kristen check my head to see if I was
still lice free. I wasn't. So I slept with mayonnaise and a shower
cap on my head- and yes, that was every bit as disgusting as you would
think. And Kristen spent 3.5 hours
the next day picking nits out of my hair. 
Yet I love India.
All I can figure is that it must be the Lord working in my
heart. One of the biggest lessons
that I learned during my month in India is how to love the "unlovable", how to
love people it is difficult to love.
I am definitely not perfect at this yet, but I felt my heart changing
and stretching the whole month I was there. And even now,
when I have been back in the states for almost a month, when I think back on my
month in India, it is with tender love and affection. 
43-47"You're familiar with
the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate
your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let
them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard
time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your
true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his
best-the sun to warm and the rain to nourish-to everyone, regardless: the good
and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a
bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do
you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.
48"In
a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it.
Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward
others, the way God lives toward you."
Matthew 5:43-48
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Posted in Atlanta by Erika Clark on 5/2/2011
I knew almost nothing about India when I landed in
Mumbai. I had basically only seen
Slum Dog Millionaire and knew that Indian women wore saris. Lame, I know.
We arrived in Mumbai late at night, got our bags and cleared
customs. The first thing that we
noticed was how very different the Indians interacted with us than the Thais
had. Thailand is nicknamed "The
Land of Smiles" with good reason. But
when we made eye contact and smiled at several people in the Mumbai airport, we
were met with scowls. Maybe people
were just grouchy because it was very late at night and they were tired from
traveling? We wanted so badly to
believe that!
The weight of what I was walking into began to hit me on the
bus ride from the airport to our hostel.
I expected poverty. But
then, there was poverty in Cambodia also.
We worked in the slums, for crying out loud! But Kolkata features poverty on a whole new level. We passed hundreds of homeless people
sleeping on the streets during that bus ride. Some had a blanket, and others were just curled up with the
curb. Homelessness in India looks
so different from homelessness in America.
We spent 4 days in Mumbi for our mid trip 'debrief' before
heading to Kolkata. It was
supposed to allot some down time for us to kind of process what we had gone through
the past 2 months before continuing on with our journey. The reoccurring concern at debrief was
"fear". We were encouraged not to
be afraid of India, and people kept praying about the fears that they had. So I, being the clueless wonder that I
was, started to get nervous. What
did all of these people know that I didn't that was making them so freaked out
about India? Thankfully we had no Internet
at the hostel that we were staying at, or I would have researched every awful
thing I could have about India.
As it turned out, I didn't have anything to "fear" per se
about India. But it was definitely
a foreign land. Much more foreign
than Cambodia or Thailand- or any other country I have ever been to, for that
matter. For one thing, there is a
caste system. For those of you who
are unfamiliar as I was, let me break it down for you.
There are basically 4 'castes' or 'classes' of people. You have the Brahmins who are the
elites- traditionally Hindu priests or other religious officials, the
Kshatriyas- the warriors, the Vaishyas- the merchants, and the Sudras-the
laborers. They are represnted by
parts of the body, (Brahmin being the head, Kshatriyas being the hands,
Vaishyas being the thighs, and Sudras being the feet). Then there is a group of people who are
not even considered to be a part of the society or the caste system. They are called the Dalits or
"untouchables". The Dalits
generally have jobs like disposing of human waste or animal carcasses. The body part that represents them is
the bottom of the feet- the filthiest part of the body.
They believe that the highest form or reincarnation is to
come back as a cow. Cows are holy
animals. They basically just roam
free and it is illegal to harm one.
And by illegal, I mean that you will be killed if you kill one.

As you might have guessed, prostitutes are Dalits. They are considered 'untouchable'. They are not considered a part of the
society, and they and their children are often excluded from schools and Hindu
temples. (Children need a last
name in order to enroll in school, and that last name needs to come from the
father. If the parents are not
married-as many prostitutes are not- the child will not have a last name and
therefore not be allowed into the school system.) In Hindu, they believe that people are reincarnated based on
how they lived their life, so there is no way to rise up from your
circumstances- which is a given in American society. Everyone believes that you are living out the life that you
deserve based on your performance in your past life. This is why most people won't help the Dalits- they think it
is basically their penance, and if they "get it right" this time around, they
might move on to a higher caste in their next life.
Another shocking thing about India is how they treat their
widows. When a Hindu person dies,
their body is burned and historically, when a woman was widowed, she was tied
to her dead husband's body and was burned alive. In more modern times, this practice is less common, and
instead the woman has been allowed to live, but she was to eat only rice and
bread- only carbohydrates and no protein- so that she would die as quickly as
possible due to malnourishment.
This practice is fortunately fading, but it still happens- and this
complete disregard of women is a reoccurring theme.
You can find signs of the unimportance of women in several
places. One example is in the
airports. There is a separate line
for men and women to go through security.
This makes sense, and there is a privacy screen for the women to stand
behind, which is nice. The problem
is that the women's line has one security agent and the men's line has 5- or at
least this was the case in the Mumbai airport. It took us quite a lot longer to pass through security for
this reason. Another "interesting"
aspect of gender relations is that there is a special section on the metro for
women. We were told in debrief
that it is important for us to dress in traditional Indian garb and to make
sure to stand in the women's section.
Apparently, a girl on our squad had traveled to India before, got into
the wrong car, and was surrounded by men and groped until she was able to get
away at the next stop. So we were
instructed to dress in a certain way and stand in a certain place in order to
(hopefully) not get felt up on our way to ministry. (Awesome!)
Speaking of ministry, we were not allowed to be
"missionaries" in India. We had to
be super careful not to use "the m word" the entire time- and that is why I am
just now writing and posting blogs about India. All communication coming into and going out of India is screened. Big brother is watching.
In Kolkata, garbage and filth is ubiquitous. There are no garbage cans outside, so
everyone just throws their garbage in the ground. Also, the water is only turned on twice a day, and only for
a short time. You know when the
water is on because everyone comes into the streets and begins bathing in the
water from the waterspouts. The
men keep a pair of shorts on and wash themselves. The children strip down completely except for the black
cords that most have around their stomachs- which I am told they were given in
a Hindu temple during some sort of ritual. I never saw women bathing, although men, women and children
did seem to spend a lot of time brushing their teeth in the street.
One interesting thing I noticed was that almost every baby
seemed to have an ugly mole right I the center of their forehead. At first I thought it was just a
birthmark, but then when I saw it on more and more babies, I wondered what was
going on. It turns out that it is
actually very taboo to tell a parent that they have a beautiful child. They believe that the evil spirits will
hear you and will come and take their child away. In order to help mitigate this, they put these markings on
their child's heads to make them "ugly" so that no one will tell them that they
have a beautiful child, and no spirits will come to steal them.
The poverty is absolutely overwhelming. Crushingly so. It breaks your heart and makes you feel
helpless at the same time. We
didn't know what to do. We were living
on $2/day for food, and our first solution was to split that in half and live
on $1/day so that we could spend the other dollar on buying food for the
beggars. Then we learned that the
beggars are just targeting foreigners and you never see them begging from
Indian citizens-and the Indians are unhappy with all of the begging because
they are very proud of their city.
We were asked by the long-term volunteers at Mother House (Mother
Theresa's Missionaries of Charity compound) not to encouraging the begging by
giving in. Apparently, many of
these beggars chose to beg rather than work because it was such easy money-
such gullible foreigners. But it
still never felt right to walk past a starving man, woman or child who was
asking for help.
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Additionally, not all of the beggars even got to keep the
money. Our ministry told us on our
very first day, that all of the beggars on the street where we pick up the
metro were actually owned. They
had been trafficked as children, and put on the street as beggars ever
since. That is how they have spent
every day of their lives- sitting on the sidewalk begging for rupees. And what's worse is that they were all
mutilated. Every single one. Some were missing hands, some feet,
some hands and feet, some legs.
They sat on the sidewalk, holding out their bandaged stumps saying, "Please
auntie, please". And it broke my
heart to walk past them. I
wondered if they didn't make their quota what would happen to them? Would their captors do some other
terrible thing to make them more pathetic in order to garner more sympathy and
change?
So many of the beggars were children. Some were just begging and some were
trying to sell small items. Our
ministry contact also shared with us that in all of the studies that have been
conducted in Kolkata about the street children, 100% of children over the age
of 6 years old have been "sexually interfered with". So even if they haven't been trafficked yet, most are raped
regularly. I'm not sure which is
worse.
India was absolutely the heaviest and most intense place I
have ever been in my life. It is
the darkest, and most debilitating hopeless environment I could have ever dreamt
of. This is part of the reason
that I would love so much to move there.
I just cry when I think about India... and I know for a fact that Jesus
does, too. He loves those people
so much more than I do- and He wants them all to rise above their man made
caste and see themselves and each other the way that He does- as beautiful children
of God... so precious in His sight.
I want to be used by God to bring this message to India. To Kolkata. To the poorest of the poor. But for now, that is not the calling I hear from my Lord,
and I would so much rather be square in the middle of His perfect will for my
life than to run off and try to do it on my own. In the meantime, I keep weeping over India....and praying that
they will start eating cows.
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Posted in India by Erika Clark on 4/29/2011
I have been asked this question a lot since I have returned
from my month in Kolkata. How was
the food? How were the
people? What did I do? What did the Lord do?
If these are some of your questions as you have followed me
in my journey, I hope that these next couple of posts will answer some of your
questions.
I was working in Sonagachi, Kolkata's infamous sex
district. Our contact came out to
meet us at the facility we were living in the day that we arrived, and he told
us about what we were walking into.
Sonagachi is one square kilometer, and in it, there are
10,000 prostitutes. They service
20,000 men per night. In the city
of Kolkata, 200,000 people live per square kilometer. There are just stacks and stacks of people living in tiny
spaces. They sleep in shifts and
often have a platform built to divide the room in half horizontally so that
half sleep on the top and half on the bottom. Marital intimacy is for the most part impractical, which
helps to explain the large numbers of men who visit Sonagachi each night.
The average age that a girl is brought into the brothels is
11 years old, though some are much younger. These young girls are generally sold by their parents or
kidnapped from the villages or from neighboring countries such as Nepal. They are locked in their little cell
for years. Literally. They are often drugged in the
beginning, and they are raped non-stop for weeks in order to break them and
destroy their spirit. Often, awful
procedures are done to them to ensure that these little girls will never get
pregnant- when they are old enough to menstruate, that is. 
So there they live, in these little rooms, servicing man
after man for years. Once they are
about 16 years old, some of them are allowed to go out side and "wait in line"
(the Bengali euphemism for "walking the street"). They don't try to be sexy. They aren't seductive.
They just stand there and service the men who purchase time with them.
This goes on for years. Eventually, when they are in their 30s and 40s, and are
considered "used up" by their pimps, they are kicked out of the brothels where
they have lived since they were children.
Some of them now have children of their own, and have to find some way
to provide for them. These women generally
wind up returning to the only job they have ever known, but in the sex district
right next to Sonagachi. There
they are turn tricks for much less money... approximately $.50 each.
People who work at the business I was with all last month
usually find these women when they are going through some kind of
transition-which usually happens when they are kicked out, either from getting
pregnant or getting too old.
Hope.
These people offer the girls and women a chance for a new
life. They have a training program
wherein they teach them how to sew along with life skills such as making and
sticking to a budget, hygiene, and parenting skills. They are taught about the love of Christ, and how He died
for them. They then spend their
days making t-shirts and beautiful bags, singing and spending time with each other. This business also has a Trust where
they give zero interest loans to the women to get them out of debt - as some of
their captivity is due to debt bondage. Many of the women have moved up the ranks and are now in
management positions.
The organization I worked for is a business, not a
non-profit. It was a really
interesting model to see- "Business as Missions". They are a fully self-sustaining business, and that is
beneficial because-as I have learned on this trip- a difficulty that sometimes
arises is that the people whom the organization is trying to help become "NGO
dependent".
One of the really innovative ideas that this business has is
that all of the women who work there are encouraged to continue living in the
brothel room that they came from.
They pay a reasonable rent that they work out (sometimes with the help
of their new employers). The
reason that they do this is because the founder believes that if change is
going to come to Sonagachi, it will have to come from the inside out. There are millions of vulnerable young
girls in the neighboring villages and countries. If a woman leaves her room, that just creates a space to put
another young girl into. They want
to transform the city- so that the 10,000 women living in the brothels will no
longer be working as prostitutes but in respectable jobs, making fair wages,
and with dignity. Currently, there
are 170 women working there- and the dream is that we would have 200 free women
working there as of the 10th birthday of the organization in
September.
This is where I spent my month in India.
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Posted in Thailand by Erika Clark on 4/24/2011
So how did I know that my heart had changed was we neared
the end of our time in Thailand?
As you might recall, I was less than psyched about all of
the johns who seemed to want to chat it up with me when I was trying to do my
"real" job-ministering to the prostitutes. But that was before I met Alexander*. He was just sitting there at my
favorite bar one night, drinking and talking with a few of the girls who work
there. The girls saw me walking up
to the bar and invited me to join them at their table.
We exchanged greetings, and from his thick accent, I could
tell that he was from a Slavic country.
He asked me why I was there, and I told him honestly. During my time
there I found it best to lay my cards out on the table so that they knew my purpose, and could chose to engage with me about it or not. I already knew why they were there.
Alexander decided to engage with me. He told me that what I was doing was
pointless, and that "you can take the girl out of the bar, but you can't take
the bar out of the girl". He said
that many men come to Thailand and try to help these girls also, and it never
works because they always go back to the bars. I told him that actually I had seen very few men trying to
help the girls (there are only 4 men on my squad), and most of the men I saw were
just trying to have sex with the girls.
They are there for something that they can get FROM the girls, not to
serve them.
So Alexander started to tell me his story.
He grew up with what sounds like a very misogynistic father-
one who had been married several times and had had many affairs, and had taught
young Alexander that the only purpose that women fulfill is "something to get
off on". He didn't see much of his
father as a boy because he had moved on from his mother, but he obviously still
had a strong influence on his life.
This is why, five years ago when his father said that he was moving to
Pattaya, Thailand, the then 23 year old Alexander decided to move there as
well. He was excited about it
because he had never really gotten to know his father, and also, he had never
had a girlfriend, was still a virgin, and was looking forward to the sexual
opportunities that Thailand had to offer. 
Alexander moved to Pattaya and enjoyed his time there, and
the Thai women for about a year before meeting a bar girl who he thought he
could have a relationship with.
They ended up spending the next 4 years together, with him supporting
them both as well as the girl's mother, as is the Thai custom.
After telling me all of that, Alexander looked up at me and
said, "But about two months ago, I woke up and realized... what I was doing was
wrong. It was borderline
immoral!" I just smiled at him.
So he and a friend of his decided to take a road trip for a
couple of weeks all around Thailand.
When they got to Chiang Mai, he felt peaceful and decided that he should
move there. That that place "would
save him". When I met him, he had
been living in Chiang Mai for about one and a half months. He decided that he was a good looking
young man with a good job, and he shouldn't have to pay for sex. I told him that I agreed, and that he was
selling himself short. At the end of the night, he told me that what we had just had was the longest conversation he had ever had with a Western woman other than his mother.
And it was the strangest thing- I really felt compassion for
Alexander. I loved him. I loved him for being honest enough to
reassess his life, to leave what was comfortable and what he had been taught,
and to look for truth and meaning.
He gave me his phone number, and in the coming weeks I called him when I was going to head
out to the bars at night. Usually
he didn't come out because he works for an American company, and he had to be
working during American business hours, which was Thailand's night. But sometimes he did. We played pool, laughed, and talked
about love and life. He told me that he hoped to find something like what my husband and I have together someday. I told him about the café I worked at during the day, and
invited him to come and hang out sometime. I thought it would be a good opportunity to have a deeper
conversation when there wasn't so much loud music, seductive women, and
beer.
But then I ended up getting stupid Dengue Fever and was very
sick on and off for about 2 weeks.
On one of my sick days when I was at the hostel, a team-mate came home
and told me that Alexander had come into the cafe' that day looking for me! He had stayed for a few hours, and they
had discussed religion and Jesus.
I. Was. Crushed.
I had so badly wanted to hear his heart on that issue, but I
hadn't wanted to push or pry, and then out of the blue he came into the cafe' and wanted to discuss his views.
It is kind of embarrassing, but since I tell you guys everything, I will
tell you this: I burst into tears.
I was pretty much inconsolable - up until Katie gave me a giant hug and
asked if the irony of the situation had hit me yet.
"What irony?", I asked.
"Well, a few weeks ago, you hated everything about the
johns. You had no love in your
heart for them, and had big plans for how you were going to ignore them and not
minister to them at all. Now you
are crying because you missed an afternoon with one, " she replied.
I just started laughing and laughing. Touche', Katie Benson. I didn't realize my heart changing at
the time, but looking back, I suppose that I didn't stand a chance. As much as I hate what these men are
doing, after spending a month with them, I have a compassion for them and a
concern for them which must be Spirit led... it is certainly not Erika led. I am thankful for the change of heart because I think it will enable me to approach this problem more holistically, and with love rather than with anger. Jesus is pretty cool.
* Name was changed
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Posted in Atlanta by Erika Clark on 4/17/2011
I am on the airplane from Mumbi to Newark, New Jersey. 13 hours
down, 2 hours and 39 minutes to go. My head and my heart are so full
right now.
I am feeling a bit nolstagic- reminiscing about the last time I
was on an aircraft this large- it was on our flight from Seattle to Seoul, South
Korea. My heart was full then, too. So excited for the adventure of
it all-for the change that would take place in my heart. For who God
would mold me into. I am in a strange place right now because though we
are heading back to our home country, we still have 1 month of ministry yet to
complete. 
I know that my time in Asia changed me, but I don't yet know in what
ways and what that will mean in my life. I know that this journey has
probably been the most efficient way for God to do some deep heart
changes. I feel closer to God than ever before-He richly supplies for all
of my needs. And I have learned that the way that He does it is
interesting- He doesn't supply for my needs for the next month or week, even
the next day- but each day when I go to Him with my petitions I am confident He
hears me and He WILL show up for me. Like the manna for the wandering
Israelites, He will think of me and provide for me each day.
I don't know if I will be called overseas again anytime soon, or what
that will look like if I am. Jaimie and I are planning to start a family
upon his return from Afghanistan, and I am obviously not going to leave a child
to go all around the world trying to defend and help other people's
children. I never was much of a "kid person", but when I think about the
little nuggets that Jaimie and I will have together, I get completely
overwhelmed by my love for them, and the thought of leaving them makes me
heartsick.
I am ever more confident of the calling that I heard from the Lord back
in Thailand, and I will elaborate more on that in my next post.
And don't worry- posts about India are forthcoming. I found out
after arriving in Mumbi that India is a 'closed country'- meaning that
missionaries and evangelism are NOT ALLOWED there. My little sister
Elyssa played something like a "scrabble" guessing game with me via Skype chat
to determine what the off limits words were, and she notified family and some
close friends who I thought might be sending me some e-mails with phrases like,
"So what is the Lord teaching you right now?" and, "What is the Holy Spirit
doing there in India?". You know who you are, my Jesus Freak friends,
and I love you very much.
Oh-
and to all of you who have been praying for me, thank you. The great
Surgeon had definitely answered your prayers this past month and in addition to
keeping me very safe, He also gave me a heart transplant.
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Posted in Thailand by Erika Clark on 3/3/2011
For some reason, I like to think that I am a badass. I like to think that Angelina Jolie in
Mr. and Mrs. Smith is my alter ego.
I have worked with prostitutes in Washington D.C. since
November of 2009- some as young as 12 years old. Does it gross me out?
Absolutely- but working with the non-profit in D.C., my primary
objective is to remove the girls from their situation and get them to safety
and a new life. It is a very
focused mission.
But out here on Redemption Road, the 'mission' looks far
different. We are here to make
friends with the girls- and even the men.
We are supposed to go to these bars and just spend time building
relationships with these broken men, women and girls. And honestly- it has been a great experience. The problem is that you can't go into
the situation with a focused eye and a hard heart- you need to open your heart
to these girls. You need to love
them. You need to invest in them. You need to leave a part of your own
heart with them- and that leaves you very open to having it broken. And honestly, it hurts me a lot to open myself up as much as I need to in order to truly love these girls and be genuine with them. Hiding behind my 'badass facade' was so much easier...
One bar down from my favorite bar, there are two little
girls who work there.
Realistically, they are probably 13 years old- but Asian girls always
look so much younger. And these
girls look... so very young.
They say that they are there to help support their families
(a burden put on Thai girls and women which propels them into bars, massage
parlors and brothels in the first place.)
Tonight as I was playing pool and drinking my Coke Light with one of my
regular johns (who I learned tonight is actually married, his wife is here in
Thailand on vacation with him, and they "tell each other everything" so she
"knows what he is doing") I kept seeing them just outside. And why are they standing outside? Because here in Thailand, the bar owners
put their best bait out in front to dance and smile and seductively greet the
western passersby. In front of
this particular bar, these two little girls sit on motorbikes for hours.
Two nights ago, I saw one of them sitting inside at a
table. It looked like the most
jacked up family dinner you have ever seen. Allow me to explain:
My favorite professor from college, Dr. Lewis (he taught all
of my super interesting terrorism classes) and his gorgeous and awesome wife-
being the incredible people that they are, decided to adopt three little girls
from Asia. Two of them, Kaia and
Sammi are from China, and Tasha is from Kazakhstan. You want to talk about beautiful girls who delight in the
attention of their daddy and mommy- these three are the poster children. I absolutely hated children- until I
met these three. Dr. and Mrs.
Lewis came out to dinner after graduation, and these little nuggets were
fighting over who would sit next to me- a reaction I have never evoked from a
child in my whole life. Dr. Lewis
asked me to nanny for them for the summer before Jaimie and I left for
D.C. I couldn't believe it, but I
actually wanted to, and the girls and I had a lovely summer together.
I said that to say that I became accustomed to seeing
beautiful young Asian girls with an older western man. With Dr. Lewis and the girls, it was
just pure fatherly love. Beautiful
and sweet. And these girls adore
their daddy- always wanting to show him their latest painting and play "Jedi
Knight" with him (they each have their own Light Saber).
So the other night when I was walking past that bar on my
way home, I peeked my head in and noticed one of the girls at a table with a
western man, with his arm around her.
He was whispering something in her ear. There were other people at the table as well, but I don't
remember anything about them. I
just remember feeling like I was going to vomit- and I peddled my bicycle back
to the hostel as fast as I could.
Tonight as I was watching them stand outside of their bar,
dressed up in women's clothing- all I could think about was when I was a little
girl, and how I would love to play dress up with my mother's high heel shoes,
and makeup. That is how these
girls look- like little girls playing dress up, standing outside of a bar, baiting
western men to come into the bar and pay for another night of stolen innocence. 

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Posted in Thailand by Erika Clark on 3/1/2011
My team and I went out last Thursday for bar ministry. I almost didn't go because john John
had come into the cafe' for about 3 hours that day. At first, I was really excited to see him. But then he just went on and on with this illogical anti-Christian
rant, and anytime I tried to get a word in edgewise, he told me to let him
finish. He talked literally
non-stop for the entire 3 hours that he was there, and was generally unpleasant
to deal with. (Kristin Bruce
was in there with me, and she is far more gifted with Mercy, so she was far
better at dealing with him.)
Anyway, I felt really drained from that experience, and like I somehow
didn't represent Jesus well at all... but I don't know how to be any other way
than how I am. I felt like an epic
missionary failure and wanted to sulk all night. Kristin Bruce and Katie gave me a really beautiful pep talk,
and I was good to go for Thursday's ministry part 2.
Katie really has a heart for the "lady boys" here in
Thailand. Lady boys are basically
transgendered men/women. There are
two LBs on Bar Street (Rose and Nook) who she likes to visit. I agreed to go with her, and we hung
out with them, drinking coke and playing pool for an hour or two. Something that we are really trying to
figure out is how on Earth can God redeem that life? I mean... the surgery has been done- and Kristen Paulick
(being an RN in the states) looked it up on line and we saw all of the pictures
from the surgery. It seems that
there is no going back.

We ended up back in the tattoo place on our way to check out
a new bar. We talked to the guys
for a few minutes and I told them my idea for a tattoo. My idea is to get the word "REDEEMED"
in Thai as a bamboo tattoo, down the inside of my upper arm. Our favorite tattoo artist Sorranachai
(or "Chai" as we call him) didn't know what that word would be in Thai, so he
looked it up in his little electronic dictionary. He then went to the boss and asked the price. He reported it back to me and said it
was funny that I wanted that word tattooed on myself, because that was the name
of the street we were on. I was
surprised and REALLY excited, and I asked, "So the name of this street with all
of the bars on it is... Redemption Road?"
He said, "yes".


 (Thai girl, Western guy- walking off together.)
I have heard of prophetic names for people, but this is my
first encounter with a prophetic name for a street. I believe that God really does want to redeem this road- use
every evil that has occurred here for good. How thrilling to be a part of His great plan for these
girls... and even for these men. I know
that the 10 of us are not going to end human trafficking in Thailand or prostitution
on Redemption Road THIS MONTH- but it is exciting to think of the butterfly
effect that we might be able to have if we each connect with ONE person, and
make a difference in that one life.
God is ALL ABOUT the ONE.
Just look at your own life. :)
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Posted in Thailand by Erika Clark on 2/28/2011
The way that we do bar ministry is that the teams take
turns- so Julies team goes out and we stay back and intercede in prayer, and
the next night we go out and Julie's team stays back. On this past Tuesday, Kristen had some awesome time with the
Lord in the morning and got "words" for each of us from Him. She wrote them all out, and our
'assignment' for the evening was to spend time with God.
Here is what mine said:
"Erika, I did not come to earth to be judge
of your life. I came to be lover
of your life. Read the story of
the girl with the alabaster jar (Luke 7:36-50). I came not to weigh you down with condemnation You saw last night the painstaking way
I offered myself up for you. (I
had watched Passion of the Christ for the first time the night before.) Only love is a strong enough motivator
to endure so much pain. You have
walked a life of sin, I have come to release you into a life of forgiveness and
love. Only
love me. That is all I ask of
you. LOVE ME! Come before me with your tears. Come to me with all the sins you still
feel condemned for and pour them out at my feet like oil. Break the alabaster jar of sins you
still feel condemned for and pour them onto me and hear me say, You Are
Forgiven!
After you do this, listen and meditate on the song O Happy
Day by Kim Walker. You are
loved." (Kristen actually had a
whole playlist for me to listen to.)
God taught me a lot on Tuesday night. I realized that all of my thoughts about being seen as a
lesser Christian because of my divorce are lies. That just because I am divorced, that does not mean that God
will not bless this marriage.
Here is an
excerpt from my prayer journal:
"I just had a thought as I was writing this. Not having a penalty or a consequence
for my divorce is Your MERCY- but when on top of that, You gave me a great
husband who loves You and adores me- that is GRACE. You knew what I was up to-it's not like you
accidentially brought Jaimie and I together-and You did it after I had sinned
by breaking my marriage vows.
Giving Jaimie to me was You showing me Your Grace through my sin. You REDEEMED marriage in my life."
I prayed for forgiveness and redemption in my past with
wicca, tarot cards and astrology.
The reason that I was drawn to those things was because of my desire for
knowledge. I wanted so badly to
have some security in my life, and in my future-a security that could come only
from knowing what would happen next.
I read Tarot cards and looked to the stars for answers, and in that, I
felt security.
As I walked the streets last Saturday night during bar
ministry, I saw a woman reading Tarot cards and realized that I hadn't seen
anything like that in a while. I
did nto feel tempted by the cards, but seeing it brought my memory back to a place
where I was able to make decisions based on what I knew would come next-and a
part of me really missed that ill-gotten knowledge.

I
shared this at our team meeting last Sunday. Tim said that he could hear victory in my account. That even when I was really tempted to
read my cards or have them read back when I was so fearful and unsure about the
Navy-I didn't. And the reason I
didn't was that I knew how far God had taken me away from that life, and I did
not want to 'un-do' it all, or basically spit in His face. I thought it was better to endure the
uncertainty rather than to go back to where God found me in the first
place.
Kristen
made an interesting point- she said that just because the cards told me A
future, didn't really mean much. I
was using satan's power and it was predicting his future for my life- not
God's. Food for thought, for sure.
I
DO see the victory in this situation, but not the redemption. How is God turning all that satan took
from me and turning it for good?
How will my story bless the Kingdom? There are parts of my life that I can now look back on and
totally see the redemption- I have gotten to a place with a few things where I
am not only not unhappy that they happened, but actually grateful. These things have enabled me to hang
out with prostitutes and look at them in their beautiful, sweet eyes and say in
all honesty, and zero judgment, "Not only am I NO BETTER than YOU, I am also
NO DIFFERENT".
More from the old prayer journal:
"All of my sins have been atoned for-You no longer see
them. Now that I am hidden with
Christ, You only feel love for me and do not see my mistakes and sins-they are
already forgiven. So I guess You
just look at me with love. This
atonement already happened, so I guess You are never angrily waiting for me to
come and repent, You just miss hanging out with me when I run from You thinking
that You are angry with me. You
wanted relationship so badly that You paid my debt in full-and paid it in
advance so we would not have to keep a tally of transactions of debt and
payment, debt and payment. You did
not want any of that to get in the way of our relationship"
"I was made for intimacy! The whole reason You made any of us-was to be friends with
us. You think of me as Your
friend. You want us to hang out
because You love me. You made this
earth in all of its beautiful variety as a gift to us-there is no reason why
there should be so much on this earth to delight our senses other than you
created our senses and wanted to bless us in so many ways every day. It is a love letter from You to
us.
You must have known what a frustrating bunch we would turn
out to be-but You made us anyway.
It seems that the frustration was worth it to You to in the end have
authentic relationships with those of us who would love You back."
I am getting to a place where I mentally understand God's
love for me- there is absolutely NO OTHER EXPLANATION for my life. But I am praying that I will begin to
FEEL this great love that He has for me.
Not because I think that my emotions are at all a good indicator of
reality, but because it would bless me so much- and make this love FEEL REAL to
me.
That is where I am at. Redemption Road part 3 coming tomorrow
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Posted in General Posts by Erika Clark on 2/27/2011
The idea of "redemption" is one that has been on my mind
and my heart a lot lately.
Up until now in my Christian walk, I have known that when
you accept Christ into your heart, and you make Him the Lord of your life, you
are forgiven. All of your sins are
nailed to the cross, and God sees them no more. This is pretty sweet, and I have accepted this as a part of
my basic theology. I had no idea
that there could be more.
On the Race, I am learning that God not only has already
forgiven me for every single thing that I have done wrong and will ever do
wrong, but He also wants to redeam it all. What satan meant for evil, God wants to use for good. Every single struggle that I have had-
God wants to turn it from a source of shame to a source of glory for His
kingdom.
CRAZY THOUGHT, hey?
Is God actually aware of what He is dealing with? I was Wiccan, for crying out loud! I was an adulteress! I was divorced when I was barely 21
years old- aren't I supposed to be some kind of second class Christian- never
allowed in a leadership position and relegated to the furthest pew in the
back-lest I set a bad example for the good young Christian girls?
For the past week and a half my team has been doing bar
ministry here in Chiang Mai. We
ride our brightly colored bicycles downtown, go into the bars, order a coke,
and try to make friends with the girls.
Last Friday when we were out, all of the bars were closed
because it was a Buddhist holiday.
We were pretty bummed out- it was one of our first nights out and we
were really excited to be there.
Kristin Bruce, Katie and I decided to stay out anyway, and see what
ministry opportunities the Lord had in store for us!
We went to one of the only open establishments on the
street- the tattoo place. Kristin said
that the last WR team had made friends with the artists there, and they had
said the guys were really nice. We
went in and struck up a conversation, talking about tattoos that we might get
while we are here. I had planned
to get my nose pierced when we go to India next month- but then I heard that we
are probably going to Calcutta... and I don't know much about Calcutta... but what
little I do know makes me think that there are better places on this earth to
get a metal rod shoved through your nose flesh. Even if it does cost only 50 cents there! So I asked "Ugly" (the piercer) how
much it would cost. He said it
would be 300 baht (about $10). I
thanked him for the info and tucked it away to think about it later. I guess that he thought my asking that
question meant that I wanted to do it right that second, because he started to
get things ready and said, "I do now".
I said, "WOAH! Not NOW! I have to think about it!" This went back and forth for a few
minutes... but (spoiler alert) I wound up with a bedazzled face!

It turns out that the Lord was faithful, and did provide
people for us to speak with. Most
meaningful for me was a john named John (I call him john John.) As you probably know, I do NOT have a
heart for johns. I basically hate
them and want to punch them in the balls.
(Am I allowed to say that on the World Race blog? I guess I'll find out!) Laura Meyers said that she will be
praying for my heart to be broken for them, and I asked her not to pray that. I want to keep hating them and loving
the girls.
So when we were walking back to our bicycles to head back to
the guesthouse, I noticed a man hunched over on his moto, sobbing his guts
out. Men don't really come to this
street unless they are trying to pick up a prostitute, so I knew exactly what
he was when I saw him. Unfortunately,
I am physically unable not to comfort someone when they are crying... even a
john, it turns out.
I went to him and asked what was wrong- but he was foreign
(from Norway), drunk, and sobbing, so I could understand maybe every 5th
word. The jist is that his "Thai
girlfriend" (who he had been "dating" for the past 4 days) has a brother who
had just been in a terrible moto accident, and she was very worried about
him. John John was very worried
also, and that is why he was crying.
When we are doing bar ministry, we are not supposed to talk about Jesus
too much because they want us to make sure that we are nto seeing these men and women as our little
"ministry projects" and just trying to shove the gospel down their throats
before moving on to our next country.
I have, within reason, respected that guideline, but on Friday I didn't
have time to listen to this guy for 3 hours and build a relationship with him-
we had to leave Bar Street by 1:00 A.M to head back to the guesthouse since
everyone who stayed back was waiting up for us. I listened to him for a few minutes and said, "John, I need
to cut to the chase because we need to get back home in a few minutes. I am very sorry for what has happened
to your girlfriend's brother. In
times like these, when life is hanging in the balance and we have no power to
change anything, I have found that the only thing I can do is pray to God. Would you like to pray with me?" Even though he had just been preaching
to me about how all religions are the same, you can't trust the Bible, and his
highest virtue is kharma, he agreed to pray, so I called the other girls over
and the three of us prayed for john John.
I told him the name and address of the café' where we worked during the
day, and he promised to come and visit us. To be continued.
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Posted in Thailand by Erika Clark on 2/27/2011
So here I am, Chiang Mai, Thailand.
As many of you know, Thailand is the country that I have
been the most excited about visiting- particularly for the bar ministry. So I am ridiculously excited to
be here- I keep tearing up when I think about how lucky I am.
Getting here was a bit of a whirlwind- and an adventure, and
I would like to tell you about it.
We left Phnom Penh Monday the 14th (Valentine's
Day!). We got to the airport in
the early evening and after checking our bags, we boarded our short flight to
Singapore. We had an 8 hour
overnight layover in the Singapore airport. After buying what seemed to be the MOST EXPENSIVE Subway sub
on Earth (because I did not yet realize that there is a Singapore dollar- and
it is different form the US Dollar-even though they use the same dollar symbol!),
I decided to explore. My sister
Erin's favorite flower is the Orchid, so I made sure to get over to the Orchid
Garden to take pictures for her.
 
The highlight of the airport for me was the FREE foot
massage machine thing. It was
sweet. I don't have a picture to
include because I was basically catatonic afterwards and didn't really think
about it! I spent my final hour in
the airport sleeping on the floor.
For once, I thought ahead and brought my sleeping bag! Score! It was surprisingly comfortable. Or maybe I was just exhausted since it was 4:00 AM?

So the next morning we all boarded our flight to Bangkok and
I slept like a baby. We arrived
about 2 hours later, cleared customs, and went to baggage claim where we
encountered a fun surprise. NO
BAGS! Apparently we were supposed
to get them in Singapore and move them over to our next flight. That makes sense since we were
traveling between 3 countries... however, in order to have done that, we would
have had to clear customs in Singapore, and pay $40 for a visa just to go to
baggage claim and get out bags to return back into the gate and continue with
our 8 hour lay over. Thankfully,
by now I have had so many traveling mishaps over the years that I found this to
be pretty funny. I had packed my
toothbrush, some baby wipes and a change of undies in my carry on- so I at
least got to have a quick 'field shower' and freshen up a bit. It could have been so much worse.
From the airport we went to the YWAM base in Bangkok where
they let us chill for the day in their conference room. Everyone else went to get food, but I
was so tired (from my night of airport exploration and not of sleeping!) that I
pulled out my sleeping bag and slept on the floor. Later on I got a great blueberry banana smoothie and some
Pad Thai before heading to the bus station.
We were scheduled to take an overnight bus, which Cameron
(who has been on the full World Race before) said was pretty sweet. As we were riding in the back of a pick
up truck (called a "Sum Tao") to the bus station, I was getting really
sad. I seem to miss Jaimie the
most on travel days- and I think it is because he and I love to travel together
so much. Also, when we are
changing countries, it is obviously a time of transition, and the lack of
stability makes me miss my Jaimie, my rock, all of the more. Katie noticed that I was getting a
little misty eyed, so she held my hand in that Sum Tao all the way to the bus
station. I love how our team is
starting to notice the little things about each other- and how to be there for
each other when we are hurting.
Cameron was NOT KIDDING about these busses. There is so much leg room between the
seats! And you can recline really
far! And... AND they feed you! This was the most luxurious means of
traveling for us thus far on the Race!
Right behind me was a Buddhist monk. I know that as a woman I am not allowed to touch him at all
or he will be considered "unclean" and I am pretty sure he would have to do a
whole ceremonial purification ritual or something. So I asked him if it was okay if I reclined my seat back, just
to make sure that he was out of "accidental touching" range. He said it was fine, and he was very
nice. All of us girl started
asking him about what it was like to be a monk, and other 'monky
'questions. He told us that there
are 217 rules that he has to follow (including 'no dinner for monk'). It made me sad for him- to be trapped
in a religion with all LAW and no LOVE.
What is Buddha going to do when the crap hits the fan in his life? Where is the relationship? It just seemed like a very lonely way
to go about things.
We arrived in Chiang Mai around 6:30 AM, where one of our
ministry contacts picked us up and brought us to the guesthouse we are staying
in. We slept for a couple of
hours, but all had to be ready at 9:30 to go to a meeting with a different
ministry contact. The good news
about losing your bags? You don't
have to worry about taking a shower- because you don't have any soap, so you
get a few more minutes of sleeping time!
Score! We ended up getting
our bags and in orientation meetings all day. It turned out that we were overlapping by just one night
with another World Race team, so we were able to go straight from our
orientations (and taking a shower!!!
Praise Jesus!) to a night of bar ministry. We got to meet the girls with whom they had formed
relationships, and get the lay of the land.
I am sorry that the tale of my travel to Thailand is so
belated- we have been super busy doing bar ministry and cafe' work since I got
here. We have been here for 1.5
weeks now, and I truly love this country.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support. And thank you for caring enough about
me and what I am doing here to read my ramblings.
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