India Part 3: Sari Bari - January 2012

India Part III:  Sari Bari

http://saribari.com/about-human-trafficking/

The name "Sari Bari" comes from two symbols. A sari is the traditional clothing worn by women in India. In India, a sari represents the essence of womanhood. The word bari mean "house or home" in the Bengali language.  Sari Bari is a safe place of employment where women who have been exploited in the sex trade or who are vulnerable to trafficking can experience a new life in the making.  Sari Bari is an organization that seeks the sustainable restoration of red light communities and the prevention of the exploitation of women and children in the commercial sex trade in Kolkata, India.

A somber spirit follows me from the temple out into the clamoring confusion of city streets.  The lame approach with hands extended wheeled by children whose eyes speak of a hunger not just for food.  Yet, a dazed emotion lays heavy upon my soul, and I walk as if in a drunken stupor with no real grasp on what’s going on around me.  Everything has become slow motion as my mind tries to rationalize the blessings of sweet tea and steeples on every corner in the Bible-belt, while the calamities of ailment and altars in this foreign land stagger my foothold.  Suddenly, the group’s pace quickens as dusk approaches and we begin to deftly move through a winding tunnel of back street businesses that slam-snaps my mind from its coma to a heightened sense of awareness.   Once again, I’m blindly following a trusted leader into a darker alley that will prove to grip my heart even tighter.  We silently weave through the stoops of marred wooden doors and toward a light amidst the darkness.

We approach an adobe, maybe 600 square feet of clay with a small entryway and 3 small rooms.  A girl in her mid to late 20s, greets us with a warm, “so nice to see Americans” face.  Her excitement isn’t just in seeing familiar faces, but it’s the opportunity to share her diamond in the rough in this secluded, x-rated part of India.  All ten of us crowd into a haven tucked away from the harshness of reality, and I feel as if I’ve entered into a secret society to which few are privy.  I huddle into a crouched, cross-legged stance and begin to listen to the conception of Sari Bari.  As the story unfolds I glance to the right to a room occupied by two women and a child.  The women appear intent as they stitch a long swath of fabric and their humble smiles dance upon the corners of their mouths as they keep their gaze directed downward.  To my left in another 10x10 room sit three other women upon the cool dirt floor; they also are steady at work creating a masterpiece of distorted string.   The colors are always so vibrant; bold reds, oranges, and yellows contrasted by the worn brown hands of several Indian woman.  Colors that make me reflect on my precious Savior’s blood that was shed, so that I and these women might experience mukti. Mukti means freedom in Bengali and is the first name that every woman at Sari Bari is given.

My heart intertwines with these women as they weave tapestries of grace out of the scars from their past. Women from desperate depths who were likely first trafficked in their teen years, and many are now middle-aged and trapped by circumstances that have bound them since childhood.  The struggles of poverty and lack of empowerment whisked them from protection and into the darkness of isolation, abuse, shame, fear, and hopelessness. Kolkata's red-light districts are home to approximately 20,000 female commercial sex workers plus their families. It is estimated that these women see an average of three to four clients daily, (so) then between 60,000 to 80,000 men are visiting commercial sex workers every day." (Guilty Without Trial).  “The majority of sex workers who come to Kolkata via trafficking are not kidnapped but lured, coaxed and cajoled with false promises or some offer of help out of a dead-end or crisis situation. Force is used later after the women (girls) have already been sold. Mashis (brothel owners/older sex workers) use friendship, sympathy, also veiled threats to convince the women that it is now in their best interest to conform and begin working.” (Guilty Without Trial).  How many can emotionally connect to these feelings?  How quickly can the effects of our own sin, or the sin of others bring us to a place where we do not recognize ourselves anymore?   At times in our lives we are brought to a place where the pain does not subside, but overflows like a sponge of salt in open wounds.  Lies, manipulation, neglect, and the ramifications of the fall burn and singe the fiber of our lives.  Yet, our hope in the midst of such affliction is that the universe was created out of an overflow of love. 

God created everything to have a higher purpose, to stir in us a gratitude and worship for His name, yet where is the hope when the fracture of the fall weaves a dark strand into our lives?  Our hope lies in the fact that He is in control of every life thread, “for we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7).  We must live life based on the confident trust in God’s promises for the future, even when we cannot yet see the fullness of His glory.  We must hold fast like Joseph through our deepest, darkest pain and when everything goes wrong loudly proclaim that our Savior is enough and be able to say, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today (Genesis 50:20).  The Holy Spirit sustains us through the mixture of bruised stains of sorrow and the vibrant hues that hint of heaven.  God says, “I’m here” (Matthew 28:19) through the difficulties; “I haven’t abandoned you through the valleys” (Psalm 23:4); “I will carry you” (Romans 8:26) to the other side, do not fear (Deut. 31:6).  Things will befall us that we may never know or must wait for a long time to see the implications of His mighty hand at work, but he remains faithful, he is good, he does not betray, abandon, or abuse.  “And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher.  And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it,’ when you turn to the right or to the left.” (Isaiah 30:20-21)

Life is But a Weaving
Corrie Ten Boom (The Tapestry Poem)

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft' times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver's skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.