Reading Ezekiel 16 and 23 in the Red Light District

A variation of the following was published in Global perspectives on the Old Testament (2014), edited by Mark Roncace.

Calling someone a prostitute is generally considered a great insult. In Ezekiel 16 and 23, however, Jerusalem is called more than a whore: she is considered to be worse than a prostitute as she scorns payments and bribes her lovers to come to her. Furthermore, the descriptions of her prostituting would make many readers blush. The prostitution of Jerusalem is clearly shown in the text to be a metaphor for Jerusalem’s chasing after other gods, but that hardly abates the prostitution motif. The question asked here is whether a fuller understanding of prostitution as a social phenomenon affects how the reader understands these texts.

When I moved to the Red Light District in Amsterdam a number of years ago, I was immediately confronted with women behind the windows who were selling sex. Wanting to know and understand these new neighbors of mine, I read studies on prostitution, read prostitutes’ own stories, and even had short conversations with the women as I helped bring coffee with the Salvation Army. I also tried to see my neighbors: from the skinny young blond model type to the Eastern European with limited Dutch knowledge to the grandmotherly types who seemed like they’d be more at home entertaining in the kitchen. It soon became clear to me that prostitution is complicated, just like the text of Ezekiel.

Based on its use in Ezekiel 16 and 23 it would appear that to act as a prostitute is unambiguously wrong and deserving of punishment, even death (cf. also Deuteronomy 22:21). However, the stories of prostitutes named in the Bible paint a different picture: Tamar was declared righteous (Genesis 38), Rahab was the only one rescued from Jericho (Joshua 6), and Gomer was bought back as Hosea’s wife (Hosea 2:5). Prostitution in the Bible, then, like the phenomenon of prostitution in society, is not simply seen as all bad.

Those working behind the windows in Amsterdam perceive their prostituting themselves in various ways: a necessary evil, an interesting and even enjoyable job, or one’s worst nightmare come true. For some, prostitution is seen as the only option (whether by force or general circumstances) and for others, prostitution is hardly their only option but the one they still choose because of the opportunities it presents. The description of Jerusalem and Samaria in Ezekiel 16 and 23 falls into this latter category, what is sometimes referred to as the “happy hooker.” In such an understanding of prostitution, the person is so infatuated with sex that prostitution would be considered the “ideal” and he/she could not imagine doing or wanting anything else. Jerusalem fits this category through her longing after foreign men, bribing them to come to her. Yet, describing Jerusalem as happy in her prostitution is going too far: she is constantly thirsting for more and despises the men after she has been defiled by them. The judgment depicted in the text—that of being stripped bare and stoned—further clarifies that, irrelevant of any claims made about Jerusalem’s willful intention in prostituting herself, she experiences too many “bad tricks” for her to be described as a happy hooker.

The other extreme is to see the prostitute as being inherently a victim—no one could willingly choose to have one’s body used by so many different men. Human trafficking, pimps, and loverboys have most likely forced and sometimes brainwashed the women into selling their bodies. Abuse, lack of self-worth, political unrest, addictions, and/or a love of money push women into prostitution. Seen in this way, Jerusalem and Samaria would be understood as having been brainwashed by these other gods: these are loverboys who had promised her their love, but ultimately just abused her and pushed her into turning to even more gods. This understanding clearly shows Jerusalem’s need to be rescued by God; yet, it seems difficult not to hold Jerusalem responsible, since her blatant guilt is one of the main points of these chapters.

Very few prostitutes fall into either extreme: For many, prostitution is seen as a means to an end. While few of them would consider prostitution an ideal job, they have made some choice in either becoming or staying prostitutes, even if leaving is exceptionally difficult. Few would argue that prostitution is healthy or good for them; it is harmful for their body, it messes with one’s emotions, and it is often demeaning. Yet, few are rushing to leave the life: the money is too good, the other options are lousy, and this is the life they know. It is in this context—the complicated reality of prostitution—that one can better understand Ezekiel 16 and 23. As despicable as the description of her actions is, Jerusalem cannot be simply despised and dismissed as a deviant woman. Rather, she is a complex character in a messy and complicated world, much like each of us and much like the women in the Red Light District. To some degree, Jerusalem was lured into prostituting herself by the other gods, unaware of the dire consequences, and she became a victim of her own bad choices. The text depicting her story is intended to shock the reader; the shock is even greater when we realize that we are being asked to identify ourselves as the prostitute in the story, as people who also whore after other gods. This identification allows us to turn away from condemnation and toward hope for restoration for both Jerusalem and ourselves. Jerusalem and Samaria have been promised that their fortunes will be restored in order that they, and those who identify with them, might remember and be ashamed.

In the years that I have lived in the Red Light District, one specific topic of conversation stands out. Visiting the women with a cup of coffee often leads to simple conversations about the weather, business being bad, children, and house pets—fascinating conversations, but it is not always easy to sense that the regular visits serve any kind of pastoral function. Yet, when a person decides to leave the work, then no matter how short or mundane the conversations previously were, there is no holding back in sharing this good news. There is a great joy in finally leaving—not only having survived the physical and emotional dangers of the work, but also anticipating the start of a new and different life. It is that joy and wonder that is missing from these chapters in Ezekiel; that part of the restoration comes only later in the biblical narrative.

Another view of the red light district

Having lived in the Red Light District for a number of years, I thought I'd pass on this blog which talks about what it's like to work in the Red Light District: Behind the Red Light District.

As a disclaimer, the woman writing it is rather frustrated with some of the propaganda related to cleaning up the Red Light District. Although I disagree with her often enough, I do think she has a lot of valid points and thus deserves to be heard. I especially agree that the whole 1012 project has not resulted in better businesses in the neighbourhood, although I would argue that the fashion/design place at Oudezijds Voorburgwal 93 was actually doing quite well (or at least it was when I lived next door).

Prostitution and human trafficking (4)

An unexpected comment on my last post about prostitution and human trafficking helped me see that I hadn't expressed myself on this subject as clearly or as fully as I had wanted to. That is perhaps not so surprising. It is hard to communicate well the evil of human trafficking while also proclaiming the value of the women working in prostitution. Mixed in with that is my own sadness about the reality of prostitution - about the assumptions we as a society have made about sex and prostitution - and an even deeper sadness that people have been pushed into prostitution, some more forcefully than others.

Human (sex) trafficking is most simply defined as participating in exploiting another person through (threat of) force, fraud, deception, or abduction (see wikipedia). The trafficker usually makes a lot of money doing so, but can also participate in trafficking in order to receive special services or gain power.

There are those working in prostitution who have been trafficked, even in a place as highly regulated as the Red Light District in Amsterdam. No one knows the numbers: they range from a few women to 90 percent of them. People can't even agree on what it means to have been forced. Because of this, it often becomes an all or nothing conversation: prostitution is pretty much the same as human trafficking, or prostitution is only incidentally related to human trafficking. I reject both views because they do not take seriously either the evil of human trafficking or the messiness of prostitution.

If you equate prostitution with human trafficking, you run into problems whenever any prostitutes claim that they are doing this out of their own free will. Either you have to believe these prostitutes are all lying or you run the risk of thinking that human trafficking can't be really as bad as people make it out to be. Thinking that prostitution has nothing to do with human trafficking makes you ignore the reality that prostitution is one of the most ideal forms of trafficking: there's money to be made as a woman can be "sold" over and over again, those renting the windows can make a lot of money and thus can potentially be influenced (and a woman forced into prostitution is ideal in that she's not going to cause difficulties about whether she gets receipts for the rent or enough days off), people look down on prostitutes, and prostitution is private (so the clients can often get away with doing harm to the women). Add to this that it's very difficult to prove human trafficking, partly because of the risks and traumas involved in testifying. And the punishment in the Netherlands is still shockingly low.

In light of this, I pray and hope that (legalised) prostitution stops being such an ideal breeding ground for human trafficking. The best way I know how to help is to pray. I am also thankful for the work of the many organisations who do their best to encourage and support the women behind the windows here in Amsterdam (e.g., the vrouwenpastoraat of the Salvation Army). Alongside of this I want to raise questions about how prostitution, as it is now set up, makes the women more likely to be taken advantage of by others. I hope and pray that others will join me in asking about questions of justice and praying for the women involved in prostitution, especially those who feel helpless and/or have been trafficked.

Human trafficking, prostitution, and me (3)

There are a number of reasons that I am uncomfortable with equating prostitution with human trafficking

It seems to play with the numbers and understanding of "unwilling" and "being forced" so that anyone doing sex work is seen as a victim. Any woman who might argue that she is okay with what she does, even might enjoy certain aspects of it, and/or is willing to do this out of love/care for another is thus considered to be lying or too traumatized/indoctrined. We, those striving against human trafficking, know better than she does. And her voice and self is irrelevant except in as far as she can receive (and accept) help. I personally find this view simplistic of all the complicated aspects of prostitution. More so, it does not seem to value those in prostitution as being fully persons: imago Dei. 
 
Linking human trafficking with prostitution also feels like an argument used by well meaning Christians to convince non-Christians, who won't necessarily see prostitution as being against God's good order, to see prostitution as an evil - and thus to join us in fighting against it. I very much believe prostitution is not part of God's ideal, but then shouldn't we be fighting to make things better for the women now here instead of women we imagine are suffering?

Those who have met and talked to the women and who have listened at least some of their stories know that things are not simple. Human trafficking certainly happens, but it is often a strange mixture of bad choices, lack of a future, concern/care/love for others, cohersion and violence, poor regulations, and (country/land) corruption. Sin and evil play a significant role.

I have spent two years meeting bi-weekly with various prostitutes. None has ever told me she was being trafficked or pimped out, although a few have mentioned that they experienced it in the past. At the same time, I have lost count of how many have told me that have been mistreated by clients or those whom they rent their windows from. They feel unsafe - the rent they pay and the alarm bell are no guarantee for help when needed. And so, they are open to alternative means of more effective protection: in other words, a pimp might not be worse that what they know experience.

It seems easy to talk about how we want to stop human trafficking - after all, who wouldn't support that? Yet, it is much more difficult to talk about how we, as Christians, love the women as they now are and as they now experience the world, amidst all the difficulties of now. Amidst the pain of not making ends meet. Amidst not understanding all of the strange regulations (that are only found in Dutch) - and the poor treatment they receive when they try to understand things better, whether it be on account of language, nationality or profession. Amidst not having anyone to tell their story to of how a client tried to force them to have sex without a condom. No one to reinterpret their story to say that that was rape, even if the police won't file a report since "it's your job." Amidst the pain of feeling like they have so little choice - where else can they find somewhere else to make enough money to pay the rent and still send some home? And then, on top of that, not being seen or heard by those who claim to come help?

Perhaps there is also the difficulty of a pimp or trafficking in the midst of all those other pains and difficulties. However, until many of those other pains and worries - from the necessity of making enough to make ends meet and stay safe in the midst of this crazy world to simply being seen and appreciated as a worthwhile person - until these things are addressed, human trafficking is just a strange political word that has little more effect on these women's day-to-day reality than a cup of coffee brought by some well-meaning worker.

A death gone relatively unnoticed

If a woman working as a prostitute tragically dies, it is likely related to the work that she does for a number of reasons. Perhaps it is a question of money - prostitutites are expected to make a lot and have a lot of cash available. Perhaps it is a crazy who finds it easier to harm those who are looked down in society and/or whom he considers to be less human. Perhaps it is a problem of relationship, whether that be a difficulty with a partner (something that overcomes many women whatever their work or situation) or an unhealthy relationship related to the work (e.g., pimp or traffickers). Sometimes the tragedy is continued in the lack of acknowledgement of her death, as if the media has judged that people are not interested in hearing about her - unless it makes a sensational story (cf. the death from a number of years ago).

Through a number of informal sources, I have heard that a woman from Bulgaria working in prostitution, passed away in a fire about 2 weeks ago. I had heard about it first through a blog from Van der Beer, a boyfriend of a prostitute: Brand! This was then later confirmed by someone doing outreach/rescue work for prostituties: Frits Rouvoet. Others from the Salvation Army vrouwenpastoraat had also heard about her death, including that she had died from smoke inhalation.

The woman who passed away was relatively young and from Bulgaria. Statistically speaking, both her age and, more so, her nationality are stronger indicators that she may have been a victim of human trafficking. Her tragic death also raises questions about how freely she had been here working. Rouvoet has assumed the worst; whereas Van der Beer argues that his girlfriend knows that she was there freely. I don't know; I assume I didn't know her. And even if I met her via the Salvation Army vrouwenpastoraat, it is hard to learn all the factors that led her to working behind the window. I expect the only thing we can say with certainty is that she had come to the Netherlands in the hope of a better life, and that hope has died with her.

It makes me sad that her life has ended so soon, and that her death has generally been ignored. On the one hand, I am thankful that her work has not been used to make a sensation from her death. However, it also seems that she, through a lack of acknowledgement, has been treated as less worthy of the respect that I believe we ought to give all persons, irrelevant of nationality or work.

update: Shortly after publishing this, the police provided a report about her death on 25 September, indicating that she was the victim of a crime for whom they have arrested someone. The article (in Dutch): http://www.politie.nl/nieuws/2013/oktober/10/05-overleden-vrouw-bij-brand-door-misdrijf-om-het-leven-gebracht-verdachte-aangehouden.html 

Human trafficking and prostitution (2)

A recent article in Trouw also raised questions about the unhealthy link between human trafficking and prostitution. It highlights that many countries have struggled with understanding best how to deal with these challenges. At the same time, it points out how the current situation in the Netherlands is problematic, partly because of the link made to human trafficking and moralizing how bad prostitution is. One of the difficulties is the lack of empowerment the women receive: a prostitute is often seen as a victim and has little ability to take control of her situation. On top of that, those owning the windows and brothels and so forth have too much power, making them more susceptible to exploitation and potentially taking advantage of or harming the women (as the recent situation in Utrecht illustrates).

Human Trafficking, the Red Light District, Christians and me

Lately, there's been a lot of discussion in the Netherlands about human trafficking as being intimately connected with prostitution, including and especially in places like the Red Light District. For example, the political party I support, ChristenUnie, just participated in hosting a joint conference called, Een andere kijk op Prostitutie, (an other way of looking at prostitution).

I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure of what to make of the discussion, which even I find to be a strange reaction. I am, after all, against human trafficking. What Christian, or non-Christian for that matter, isn't against human trafficking?!? I have read numerous stories and news articles verifying both how real and how horrible trafficking is for those who are victims. I also believe that there are women in the Red Light District who have been pressured against their will to prostitute themselves, which I find deeply troubling, even more so as these are my physical neighbours. Furthermore, I'm against prostitution. As a Christian, I don't believe that prostitution is part of God's good intentions for sex, relationships, or how human beings ought to be treated.

So why is it that I feel so uncomfortable with the discussions about human trafficking and its link to prostitution?

Because it feels a bit like we're focusing on the wrong thing. It's not that human trafficking isn't horrible and evil, it's just there's so much more pain, evil, sadness, messiness and wrong involved in prostitution that has little to do with human trafficking. We have been, through talking about trafficking and not prostitution, avoiding asking difficult questions and having difficult conversations.

The best analogy I can think of is how Pope Francis has been in the news about how he isn't so hard-nosed about abortion or homosexuality. It's not that he isn't against abortion, it's just that in a world where there is so much messiness and sin, the message of abortion isn't what the world needs to hear. And when I think of those working in prostitution, I wonder if the focus on human trafficking hasn't been distracting us from the real message, that of proclaiming love and grace and human worth.

Eating with Prostitutes

Jesus once ate with prostitutes, and so in reaching out to my neighbourhood, it also seems appropriate that I would eat with prostitutes. There are enough organisations reaching out to the women here, and I have been invited to join the women's dinner held by the Salvation Army. Yet, I have chosen not to go, not because I would find it difficult to eat with prostitutes, but simply because I find it difficult to relate to others in a situation where it's so obvious that I'm the one giving help and they are the ones needing it. I tend to picture Jesus' eating with prostitutes to be his inviting them to join his table at home, a guest as welcome as any other.

But what if that really would happen? What if a prostitute really joined us for dinner? A guest comes to the table whose background we do not know - something that happens often enough at the dinner table in the community. And as there is time before the food is ready and numerous new people, everyone is invited to introduce themselves. And she says she is a prostitute, in bad English, but clear enough that at least a few people understand. And what happens then? Do you stop the introductions and tell her how welcome she is? Do you stare her to see if she's real (after all, she looks like everybody else)? Do you ask about her work in an attempt to relate to her as much as you can? Do you ignore her and continue with your own conversations, unsure what to say and hoping that her presence won't make everybody uncomfortable? Do you hope that your laughter and comraderie shows a picture of people who have become a family even though we're from so many different places? And in so doing, hope that the Holy Spirit might work in them a desire to be more part of God's own family?

It is absurd to think that a woman working in prostitution would come as a guest to dinner - and yet God has done stranger things. After all, women leaving prostitution have come to live with us for awhile, struggling to put their lives together just like so many others who have joined the community for awhile. And strangely enough their presence at the dinner table has always been normal: whatever their background, they are welcome to be part of this crazy family for as long as they want to be. That is, after all, the loving welcome that I expect Jesus extended when he invited prostitutes and tax-collectors to join him, and I am deeply thankful that I have found a way to follow his example.

How much does supply and demand affect prostitution?

Supply and demand is one of the key concepts I learned in the economics class I once took. Assuming there were no significant outside factors (like subsidies), the cost and ease of production would affect the supply of the product, and the demand for the product would affect the price and the quantity produced. Yet, when I look at the situation in the Red Light District and talk to the women there, it feels like something has gone horribly wrong with the economics here. These are the details for someone working in Amsterdam (i.e. the math):


The costs are: 
- Room is 100-150 euros per day (more in the evening); paid in cash.
- Housing is likely 1500 euros per month, as you're not eligible for any rent-controller housing and rent prices in Amsterdam are extremely high. It could possibly be cheaper, but then you're living outside of Amsterdam and paying extra travelling costs.
- Per customer, you give out about 5 euros on supplies
- Health/insurance costs: 200+ euros per month (being self-employed, these costs are higher than average);
- No vacation or sick leave because of the loss of income and the high risk of losing your window;
- Taxes are relatively high, especially since it is, for tax reasons, financially better for the person renting you the room to give you as few receipts for the room as possible, and so you can't declare your rent half the time. Complain, and you run the risk of losing your room to the next woman/pimp looking for a room. 
- Emotional and physical costs, as well as potential theft and abuse.

Thus, simply in order to make ends meet, you need to earn about 200 euros per day. If you charge 50 euros per customer (the standard rate), that means 4 customers in a 10 hour workday; 5 customers if you work the night-shift when the rooms are more expensive. For every person that pays more or every extra customer, that's extra income. But that also assumes every women is using the standard rate. But if you're only getting 3 customers per day at 50 euros, then it makes sense to lower the rate to 40 so that you get 4 or even 5. The cost per customer to the woman is low enough, that the appeal of lowering the rate is pretty high - the appeal only increases if there's a pimp threatening to beat you if you don't make several hundred euros extra per shift. But if everyone starts lowering, then everyone starts making less, and woman lower even further to 30 euros or by doing unsafe things. That means a lot of customers simply to make ends meet, let alone earn extra for food, smokes, pimp, money for home, savings and so on.

Many of the women work 7 days a week, 10 hours a day: crappy hours and a lousy job where you are often treated poorly and seen negatively. Because of that, you would expect that supply of women wanting the job would decrease - and less windows would be rented and the rent would have to go down because of the lack of demand. But there are an endless supply of women, new women arriving constantly. And this is where the economics has gone horribly wrong. There have been too many stories of easy money, too many others pushing women into the business, too many women believing they have no skills, too many countries where poverty is so high that even this bad is better than there.And those who are working in these conditions - barely making ends meet, let alone earning a decent wage - do not leave, even though every economic principle says they should. Is not any other job better? But most stay, as there are no other jobs, little hope of something better, and also, I believe, because the world of prostitution has a (spiritually) dark side that is stronger than the economic rules of supply and demand.

The shocking end of Judges

The end of the book of Judges has always bothered me. It covers gang-rape and revenge, with a Levite, God's representative, playing a central role. Yet, when I came to the story in reading through the Bible this year, the story bothered me just a little bit less this time.

The Levite's concubine is still offered by their host and her partner to the raging men at the door, she is still gang-raped and found dead in front of the door the next morning. The Levite still cuts her body up, sending the different parts to the tribes of Israel who then wipe out almost the entire tribe of Benjamin. It remains horrid, cruel and gruesome. Yet, this time one thing struck me differently.

When the various tribes received the message of what had happened to this woman, they all reacted immediately with: this is not how it should be. No questions were first asked about whether the woman, who had been unfaithful to the Levite, deserved what happened. Instead, her death and what happened was seen as a horrible evil. Furthermore, all those involved were punished, not just those proven to have actually committed the crime. All those who lived there and had allowed such things to develop and happen were killed, being considered equally guilty.

Having read and heard so much about human trafficking lately, it was easy to make the link to this story. That is where the shock comes in. What happened to the concubine happens in greater and lesser degrees to different women around the world. And how do we react? We say the women deserved it, or we claim that we know nothing. We talk about how good our justice system is that we make sure that rules are kept well, privacy is guarded and we make sure that people are not punished unjustly for crimes they didn't commit. Yet, where is the reaction found in Judges? Where is our shock and rage, alongside of a desire for justice and willingness to destroy the evil even when it hurts ourselves?

It seems ironic that the book of Judges - where everyone did what was right in their own eyes - has something to say to us today about being appropriately shocked when it comes to evil and justice.

Prostitution and sex tourists

As much as I would love to see all those working in prostitution be able to stop, the language of rescuing prostitutes always makes me uncomfortable. Rescuing sounds like something I do to feel better and not something that is primarily about caring about the women/men and what they themselves might want. Rescuing language makes me even more uncomfortable when it's about us needing to rescue prostitutes in other/poor countries, especially children prostitutes.

It's not that I don't want children prostitutes to be rescued. In fact, like most (westerners), I find it sad and even horrible that girls at the beginning of their teenage years (and younger!) are sold/given (even temporarily) to men who can do whatever they want with them.

But even more horrible than the girls doing this work are the ones who come and pay. Most of the ones doing the buying aren't from the poor countries - they're from western countries: businessmen, tourists, married and single, diplomats and even church-goers. And we are suspiciously silent about these "sex tourists" and how our western ideas about individual rights and sex might be part of the demand for children prostitution. 

A blog I've started reading, Jamie the very worst missionary, recently highlighted this issue: how we get so worked up about the "sweet little baby prostitutes" and completely ignore those who create the demand, even though the latter ones are the ones closest to home. She has a rather unconventional and direct way of describing things, so I'm looking forward to hearing about her visit to those areas of prostitution and what she will be saying as part of that. I'll keep you updated!

Prostitution in the News

In the last month or so, prostitution has been in the news a lot. Alongside of all this news that I have been trying to keep up with, I have attended the film Nefarious, as well as attending a day seminar on trafficking and spending an evening focusing on trafficking signals with other volunteers from the crisis center of the community. I feel like I ought thus to know more now about prostitution and/or trafficking and that I also ought to share what I know. But I don't really know what to say.

I'm not sure if the Swedish model of punishing those visiting prostitutes is good for the women working now in prostitution, irrelevent of the conclusions made during the recent trip of Hilkens and Segers to check things out. I wish there was a way to fight against the culturally accepted idea that "men need to have sex" and that having sex with those underage would be morally apprehensible to everyone, but I have no idea how to do that. Better policy is not always the answer. I would think that changing the age of prostitution from 18 to 21 (the current plan in Amsterdam) would make things better by decreasing the chance of those entering into prostitution under the influence of a pimp/loverboy, but others have questioned if this won't simply push more prostitution underground. More than enough questionable things happen by and to those claiming to work for escortsservices or from home. Ensuring that those working behind the windows speak English, Dutch, or Spanish (another plan here in Amsterdam) will also hopefully decrease the chances of women being trafficked here from places like Bulgaria or Hungary. At the same time, the circumstances in those countries haven't changed so women will continue to come and continue to use the services of those willing to bring them here illegally (i.e., human traffickers). More news has been that Patricia Perquin has lost her anonymity, which has immediately raised questions about the validity of her story. It is a pity, as her book had much good to say, irrelevant of whether it is all her own personal story. Furthermore, this past weekend two prostitutes were attacked (Amsterdam and Utrecht) and there was a huge questioning in Alkmaar that has led to arrests, but both events raise questions about how prostitutes are treated and seen by the wider society.

The buzz in the news feels more irritating than helpful - and I'm not sure how my voice will help. Furthermore, all those news items seem irrelevant in light of the real women with names and stories who I am allowed to visit every other week. Is it not more relevant news that one of the woman who I always visited disappeared without a trace or without saying good-bye? She lived in Alkmaar, a city known as an easy place for those who are illegal to begin. And she worked every night, a fact I found out only after she'd left. What mess was and is she involved in? How much do I worry and how do I pray for her?

And is it not even more relevant news that I got to share with some of the women that we worry about them sometimes? From the woman desperately searching for a new place to live (how does one find an affordable place to rent in Amsterdam outside of the social housing?!?), to the woman who had worked at least 50 of the last 60 hours, to the woman working on her Dutch, to the woman making plans and working hard to begin a life outside of prostitution.

Saving women in prostitution: is conversion the only way?

Last week, I watched Nefarious, a film about human trafficking. As it is produced by American evangelicals, I was a bit nervous about how well prostitution and human trafficking would be presented in the film. Fortunately, the film did a very good job of nuancing various factors that lead to prostitution: force (more traditionally known as trafficking), poverty, illegality, lure of a better/easier life, cultural acceptance/pressure, and/or distorted notions of love (e.g., loverboys).

They also, in their interviews with former prostitutes in the Netherlands and America, showed some of the devestation that occurs on account of prostitution, even for those who have more freely chosen the work. Choosing to turn away from that way of life seems almost impossible. The film gave the statistic that 95 percent of those who leave (perhaps even rescued from?) prostitution return to it. The one watching the film was (implicitly) encouraged to pray that prostitution might be stopped and that prostitutes might come to know God. Although I do pray that, I also pray a lot of other things - as I think this prayer is too simple.

As much as I truly believe that Christ is the only one who can fully heal someone from the damaging effects related to prostitution, I was disappointed that Christ's role in the film was not larger. Shouldn't we also be praying for God to be involved in everything leading up to and surrounding prostitution? Like punishing traffickers and sex tourists, challenging ideas of self-worth and sex, and fighting against neglect and abuse.

I believe that God is not only interested in saving souls - he's interested in saving the world in its entirety. The film did injustice to God by not discussing his desire for justice and his being able to break the structures causing much of the brokenness related to prostitution and human trafficking. According to the makers of the film, trafficking occurs because too few people say and do nothing (and our task is then to spread the word). Yet, at the same time, the film made it obvious that there is much spiritual darkness involved in trafficking: how else can you explain a culture that understands loving one's daughter as choosing to prostitute her close to home instead of further away (cf. the section on Cambodia)? Poverty, the usual explanation for this behaviour, cannot adequately explain why most of those in the village accept selling one's daughter for sex as normal and desirable. Never discussed in the film is cause of so much demand: many foreigners coming to the villages to buy children. Yet, it is just here that God has also been working small miracles - it is becoming easier for foreigners who do this to be punished under the laws of their home country, which will hopefully change and even prevent "sex tourism" in these villages.

I believe that part of healing the hurt related to prostitution is God's justice being acted out through punishment of those who have participated in trafficking and having sex with a child "prostitute." Such punishment is also a strong encouragement for those committing these crimes to change their ways. Thus I cannot pray about trafficking and prostitution without praying both for the women to know God well, as well as changing and punishing those who have participated in her becoming a prostitute.

A prayer for the women working in the windows

I pray that you are well. As part of that, I want you to know God and His love. And I also hope that you will stop with prostitution: it harms you emotionally and physically and messes with your heart and soul.

But those things are a lot to ask. It is not that I doubt that God is capable of doing all that, it is simply that I have come to know how messy prostitution is. And I know that there are many possible things that can stand in the way of you leaving this work and/or knowing God better. And so I pray for those things:

I pray for the deadbeat father of your child - that he might be convicted to support you and your child financially.
I pray for those who treat you like nothing more than a tourist attraction - that they might realize that even animals in the zoo receive more respect than they are giving out.
I pray for those moments when you feel like you're barely surviving - that a kind smile or a laugh might remind you of your worth.
I pray for the strange and crazy ideas about sex you've learned and that society teaches us - that we'd all challenge the crazy idea that men need sex, but also that we would all learn that sex really is a good and beautiful gift from God and not something that can be bartered for 40 euros (or even less!).
I pray for your families - that whatever neglect, abuse and/or scorn that you've received from them might be healed and that you might be loved simply for being you.
I pray for those who benefit financially from your work - that your lazy children or partner (or parents!) might be convicted not to use you for your money (and to get their own job) or that they might be criminally charged for pimping and/or trafficking you.
But I also pray for those situations where it is your work that is keeping the family alive and well - that your sacrifice might be honoured, but also that your family might become more creative and more able in making ends meet so they can encourage you to stop and invite you to come home again.
I pray for the circumstances (of the land) you've come from - that wars might cease, that there might be jobs and less poverty, and that there would be less corruption and abuse so that prostitution in Amsterdam no longer appears as a better option.
I pray for those who own and rent out the windows you work in - that they might treat you with respect and give you what you're legally entitled to. And that the government would force them to do so, in the hopes that it also becomes financially less attractive for those involved criminally.
I pray for those who wish to save you - not that a bit of saving for you or your neighbour wouldn't be necessarily a good thing (who, after all, couldn't use some saving?) but that they might actually listen to you and see you as the indivudual you are and not merely as a victim or as a mission.
I pray that you make enough money to make ends meet - and yet I also pray that window prostitution pays poorly, in the hopes that you ask if it isn't time to start thinking seriously about other work.

And I give thanks for all the times when I get to see things going well
- when I see you helped with health or financial stuff,
- when we can make you laugh and bring a bit of joy to your day,
 - when you have found a workplace where you are treated well and can feel at home
- when we feel like we can provide you with social support that you might be missing,
- when you assure me that you are looking after yourself and standing up for yourself - not necessarily because I am convinced you are doing it as well as possible - but you recognize the importance of it,- when you open the door to us and let someone enter into your world for a little while (and even are willing to share your food with us),
- when you have the courage to ask for help
- when you go through the complicated process of stopping - with all its phone calls and regulations and paperwork. And then you share that with us, so we can encourage you and rejoice with you.

And I pray for so much more, but the prayer is long and complicated enough - like the world around me - and it is enough simply to pray. And so I pray for these women, my neighbours, and I pray that it might go well with them.

Talking to the women behind the windows

Another volunteer from the Vrouwenpastoraat (women's pastoral care) of the Salvation Army recently wrote a short article about talking to the women behind the windows. I really appreciate how she captures the desire we have to honour and respect these women and show God's love for them.

For those of you who read Dutch, I encourage you to go to the PKN Amstelveen website and read her article about Ouwehoeren over God.

The following is an English translation:
"Shooting the breeze about God"

How do you share with another the liberating message of the Bible? If there was an obvious answer to this, all the Protestant churches in Amstelveen Buitenveldert would have already applied it. Yet, one thing is certain: you can only share the gospel with someone after you've managed to come in contact with him or her. Sometimes that comes in unexpected ways, as I experienced about a year ago.

Three times a month I do volunteer work for the Salvation Army, bringing coffee and tea to the window prostitutes in the red light district in Amsterdam. Normally we go out in pairs with our baskets (as Major Bosshardt did years ago), and we try to have some kind of contact with every prostitute on our route. Often it is no more than eye contact, but even that can mean a lot. Through changes in facial expression or posture you can see what it means for them to be seen not as merchandise or an attraction, but as a fellow human being.

Every once in awhile, I have walked the route alone. On one of those nights I came inside a prostitute's window, and she asked me, completely out of the blue, "What would God think of me, that I am doing this?" It was so unexpected that, knowing she was Hispanic, I asked, just to be sure: "Dios? '. "Si Dios." Those two seconds respite gave me the chance to offer a quick prayer: God 'elp, what do I say?" Because what answer can you give to this question from a woman who is the grandma of a little boy less than a year old and who financially supports the family of her unemployed son in Spain throught what she earns by selling her body? "God knows you.", I heard myself say. Nothing more, but it was enough. She tasted the words and repeated them as if they needed careful chewing: God knows me. Slowly she began to nod her head and the tension from her body fell away. It was apparently a word of liberation.Her situation had not changed. She still had to earn money through meeting the desires of a variety of men. Her son was still unemployed. But God knew her in her situation with her past and the choices that she had made, and it made a world of difference. That evening I cycled home with gratitude because God had used me to pass on part of his liberating message.

Returning to the familiar, even if it isn't best.

In thinking and reading about prostitution in the last while, I've been wondering about those who stay in and/or return to prostitution when it seems like leaving would be better.

I will admit to being biased about prostitution: from a Christian perspective, it's not how God intended sex and relationships to be (adultery, though, is worse - see Proverbs 6:26 and Klaas Spronk's article about Rahab). Besides this, I think it's very demanding work - both physically and emotionally. It's also a job where one receives limited respect, there's more competition than friendships with colleagues, it is not necessarily well-paid (especially if there's pressure to hand over one's earnings), and it can be quite dangerous. It is, in my opinion, not the ideal job for anyone. At the same time, because of how hard it is, I admire the women who I meet who seem to do their job well and remain relatively emotionally healthy. Yet, because of how hard it is, I admit to finding it somewhat difficult to understand why everyone is not trying to leave and take advantage of the programs offered by Scarlet Cord and Frits Rouvoet's Blood'n'fire.

There are two situations that I especially don't understand.
- The first, and simplest, reagrds those that barely make enough money to pay for the rent of the windows. As many of the window working behind the windows will tell you, business has been bad - the crisis has hit the middle class and that is who most of their customers are. My question then is, why aren't these women more obviously looking for another way to eke out a living - with perhaps not less hours, but at least less stressful and difficult hours?
- The second are those who have been victims of human trafficking (and/or pimps and loverboys). After they have been rescued (or at least separated) from the one who was forcing them to work in prostitution (or at least took all their earnings), they often return to working in prostitution (for themselves now, though). One example of this is one of the Fokkens twins who was pushed into prostitution by her boyfriend and then continued (with her twin sister) later on her own.

Perhaps the answer is simply that what we know is often the easiest - it is easier to return to what is familiar, even if it's not necessarily best. It is obviously complicated, and other thoughts are welcome on this. It is also something that saddens me, especially the second situation that I named above.

Recommended reading over prostitution: Achter het raam by Patricia Perquin

Of all the books I've read, probably the most accessible and realistic book that I've read thus far is that of Patricia Perquin (Achter het raam - currently available only in Dutch). Several of the more academic studies that I've read, especially those incorporating the words of prostitutes and clients, probably provide more accurate accounts that lack the necessary flourishing of a novel and the bias of a story written by one person. Other books also capture better the problems of human trafficking (recommended is De Fatale Fuik) or loverboys/pimps. Nonetheless, if you were only to read one book about prostitution and the Red Light District, I'd recommend this one (supplementing it by reading the newspaper and/or watching news programmes).

This book comes after a series of articles in Het Parool written by Patricia, someone who claimed to work several years as a prostitute in the Red Light District. It's thus written from an insider's perspective. Based on my conversations with the women working and what I've read about prostitution, it seems to provide a fairly balanced picture. Not all prostitutes are victims of human trafficking, nor under the influence of loverboys or pimps. Neither is the work solely glamorous, as one might conclude from the recent book, Ouwehoeren. Instead, for many women, prostitution is something in between or, perhaps, another category completely.

The book does a good job in raising good questions and it especially gives a good picture of how emotionally difficult the work can be - from a lack of respect given to those working behind the windows to the complicated relationships with the other women to the demands on her person. It details a bit of the actual work that she does but she doesn't let that overwhelm the book - partly because she doesn't sensationalize it. And she raises questions about what might not be good about how we respond to the work she does: how helpful are the umpteen organisations offering help? how easy is it to leave the work? should the work not be more regulated (i.e., should someone who can speak neither English nor Dutch be allowed to work in the Red Light District? What receipts can actually be claimed for taxes? Should there be a maximum hours per week that someone can work in prostitution and how do you regulate that?). I know a number of others who have now read the book, and I look forward to talking more about it and the questions it raises.

Because Patricia remains anonymous and because her words correspond well with the 1012 project to clean up the Wallen, this leads to suspicious about how true her story really is. The fact that she never mentions the annoyance of tourists, one of the most common complaints of all the women, also raises questions about her story. One fascinating reaction to her book is found on the blog, "the experiences of a prostitute." (before you click on the link, you should be warned that the author writes in Dutch and sometimes uses crass language). The writer of the blog, another person claiming to be a prostitute also writing anonymously, is rather sceptical of Patricia and negative about what she has written. Yet, she also has some things to say about prostitution that I think ought to be heard. The following is a translation of a few sentences middle in the blog entry linked to above:

"Prostitutes are often depicted as murder victims in crime shows and books. Not surprising, as many people consider prostitutes not to be real people. We are seen as inferior, and people who want to harm others find it easier to do that to prostitutes. That is a problem and a danger.... We are not actually outlaws, but we are more vulnerable because many people believe that we are. And thus we must learn to stand up for ourselves..."

this blog entry has been cross-posted on the blog: the Kronemeijers' recent reading

Reading about prostitution

In the hope of understanding my neighbours and this neighbourhood better, I have read quite a lot related to human trafficking and prostitution. Through what I've posted previously on this blog that might have already been obvious, but it seemed good to acknowledge that. 

It seems appropriate then to share what I've learned with others, partly because knowledge is for sharing and partly because putting what I've read down in words helps me process things. And processing is necessary, as the topic of prostitution can often be overwhelming. What is most overwhelming is how complicated it is and, other than my (Christian) belief that prostitution is not part of God's ideal world, very little else is straightforward or clear when it comes to prostitution here in the Red Light District. But it can not be ignored, and I hope that my thoughts might be a way for me to show respect and care to the women working here

The blog entries with regard to prostitution and/or the Red Light District will be labelled with "prostitution" and/or "de wallen." Click on the link(s) to see more of what they are. More books about prostitution, primarily studies written in English that I read a number of years ago, can be found on brendahey2.blogspot.com under the label "prostitution lit."

A Prostitute does her work with pleasure?!?

It's been almost a year now since I started volunteering again with the Salvation Army's vrouwenpastoraat (pastoral care to women). It's something I am thankful I can do, as the women are my neighbours, and I want to be able to reach out to them and show them love and respect - an attitude too often lacking amongst many of the tourists and visitors to the Red Light District.

Joan van't Hof, who has a lead role in the work of the women's pastoral care, recently posted a short article on wij about this. For those of you who read dutch, I encourage you to follow the link. But for those of you who only speak English, the following is the translation:

A Prostitute does her work with pleasure

My initial reaction to this statement was: If that were true, then the Vrouwenpastoraat (Women's pastoral care) of the Salvation Army would hardly need to exist. How did it start? After the Second World War 'Major' Bosshardt began caring for this special group: care that grew into an extensive social and spiritual work that has now become the Goodwill Centre Amsterdam and where more than a thousand people work. Since January 2007, I have been able to participate in the work as a volunteer.

Ever since it began, the Salvation Army has been active in visiting the prostitutes that work in the Red Light District. The visits were initially limited to once per week. Now there are more than twenty volunteers who ensure that visits are made three times per week to the prostitutes working in the Red Light District. In addition, on Thursday those working in the area of the Spui and Singel are visited. We also provide Dutch language lessons so that it is easier to find a job in the Netherlands, as well as making it easier to communicate with Dutch people.

Every week we reach out to three to four hundred prostitutes. The contact itself is very diverse. It ranges from a short raising of a hand to sometimes a conversation of an hour or more. On account of our regular presence and the lack of conditions for how we approach "our" girls, we have built up trust with many, if not most, of those whom we visit. If we are asked to talk about our beliefs and matters of faith, we gladly share more about that. On our own, we do not bring up this topic, recognizing that many are believers.

Sometimes the Red Light District is populated by hordes of tourists and spectators, who march through the alleys shouting, banging on the windows, and calling out to the women (for example, "Hey, grandma," when they see a prostitute who is "already" thirty years old). Or there are couples walking hand in hand through the alleys, kissing each other in front of a window, and staring disapprovingly at the prostitutes. In the last while, a girl next to our building has occasionally donned a kind of police uniform, in the hope of attracting (certain) men. Last Thursday, there stood a group of people before her window laughing together at her. Such an attitude disgusts me: no respect for the women who, without exception, always respond to us with respect and love.

During our visits, family situations often comes up. The women talk about their (grand) children and favourite nephew/niece. And the sun breaks through completely whenever we ask whether they might have photos. With barely concealed pride, the little children and other relatives are always shown. At such moments, we recognize our common humanity. A fellow human being who is no different than us. The only difference is where and how one's life began. Coming to know the latter can cause your heart to break when you realize how many of the girls have been forced into this profession. The force can be a lack of another means of livelihood and therefore, often at wit's end, "choosing" to work here in the prostitution, or the force can be having been recruited by a human trafficker and made to do thise work under the most horrible of threats (not infrequently followed through). No, this type of work is not something you do because it is respected or because the work is so enjoyable.

article re-posted with permission from the author.

Forced Prostitution, Credibility, and the Maria Mosterd Scandal

A variation of the following blog entry has also been published on my "Recent Reading" blog where I infrequently write about books that I have read.

In her book Echte mannen eten geen kaas (2008), Maria Mosterd tells her story of being involved in prostitution via a relationship with a loverboy. As I've once again been reading books about prostitution and trafficking, it seemed only appropriate to read one of the most famous ones. The edition I had from 2009 was the twenty-second printing of the book (on top of this, sequels were written, numerous interviews were made, and film rights had been sold) - and then came the scandal. Maria's supposedly true story was filled with lies (see the dutch article on wikipedia). Most notably, the lawsuit against the school for neglect was dismissed - in the book, Maria claims to have attended class only on days when there were tests, which should have raised questions. Yet, according to the school, Maria did not skip class at any level of significance (and significant contact was attempted with her mother - about her lack of motivation and frequently arriving late). Classmates/friends of Maria testified in public to her being present at school - and that she had a good imagination. There is little doubt any more that significant parts of the book are fictional.

Before reading the book, I knew about the scandal - and I'm sure that influenced my reading. I found the book itself hard to believe; yet, at the same time, in the midst of this rather nasty and depressing story, I am unsettled by the belief that not all of it can be fiction and even if a little is true, it's cause enough for sadness and concern. Of note was the way in which Maria related to her loverboy - it came across as strange because it was the wrong kind of strange. The relationship with a "loverboy" - a dutch term for a guy that uses the guise of love and promise of a future together in order to convince a woman to prostitute herself for his benefit - is for me, by definition, strange: a woman, because she has "fallen in love", accepts things/situations that are clearly not loving. The relationship gets more complicated with time, but the desire of the woman for her loverboy and his (positive) attention to her remains, irrelevant of everything that has happened. Maria tries to convey that desire, but it falls flat as it misses the echos of a longing for an addiction that you know you need to rid yourself of.

Maria, as she presents herself in the book, is not a sympathetic character. She is unmotivated and lazy with regard to school and studies. She claims to be looking for trouble in the beginning of the book. She claims to know how to manipulate people well. She acknowledges lying (or at least withholding information) in regard to police actions in a rape case. She regularly does drugs. She doesn't appear to care much about other people - she expresses some desire of protection for her friend and sister - but generally seems indifferent. If such a character were to write a book, what kind of book could we expect? A book that bends the truth and tells people what they want to hear (i.e., manipulates) seems not unlikely.

Yet, even if I find Maria presented in the book to be rather unlikable, I do find it a pity that her story has been completely dismissed. Her book suggests that she knows a lot about having sex with strangers - and not good sex (and this is only partially because she was a minor when it happened). It is also obvious that she was mixed up and hanging out with a bad crowd. Both of these things should raise questions amongst Christians and Dutch society (see Guardian article from 2009). It should also raise questions about how much catering to popular taste messes with truth - both on the side of the writer and on the side of the reader. Have we avoided the real story - both with Maria and others - because a story was written that would sell?