Sex Workers Centre in Saidpur

Since I’ve last written in this blog, I have had both the most surreal and the most moving experiences on this trip to date. I knew going into BSLE that my time here would force me to confront aspects of the world which I do not agree with, am uncomfortable with and would find difficult to see. However as in most cases, no matter how prepared I thought I was, nothing can compare to actually being here and in the presence of the unique individuals I meet everyday.

Because I have a lot to say this blog, I’ll start from the beginning of our time back in Rangpur. The most surreal experience I’ve had started when we decided to go for a late afternoon stroll in the city. It was cooler than normal out and we were only sticking to our clothes slightly. Not long after we started, we passed a park that was hosting a kind of talent show for children. Our group decided to check it out but Christine mentioned that it would be a good idea to keep a distance from the tent and stage. It was to make sure we didn’t draw too much of a crowd. An RDRS employee, Shanto arrived soon after and we all watched from the sidelines as Shanto tried to reach his wife and daughter who were somewhere in the crowd.

It was at that time things started to change very quickly. The presenter began talking and looking at us, talking and looking at us. He then stopped the show to walk off the stage and inform us that we were now honoured guests of the Marks Allrounder show. Not knowing exactly what to do, we allowed ourselves to be escorted to the front of the tent and then sat in the front row. Immediately the video cameras and journalists cameras were pointed at us. The young contestants came up to us and asked us to sign their notebooks. Then a crowd of young ones began to form to the point where the security guards started sternly telling us to stop signing. After ten minutes I was extremely uncomfortable, wondering what would happen if the show suddenly ended and we were left to our own devices. At that moment, Shanto’s reinforcements arrived in the form of two little girls, asking if we wanted to leave. “Yes! Let’s Go!” I said as loudly as possible. Within a few minutes we were being led out.

This event only took about half an hour to unfold. We went from a walk, to slightly on the brink of chaos (most likely in my own head), to walking right down the street again. I didn’t tell this story to make anyone worry, the people of Bangladesh are kind and generous. I told it mostly to relay to everyone how different it can be to spend time here.

This was only on our second day back. There is still so much more to tell!

This week was our field visits to Saidpur. This town is only forty minutes away so we stayed in Rangpur at night and visited during the day.

This year the Bangladesh Service Learning Experience program differs in two ways from the programs of past years. One way is that we are the only all female group the program has yet to see. Second, we had the opportunity to spend a few days at the RDRS Sex Workers clinic in Saidpur. It is my opinion that these two differences significantly altered our time here in Bangladesh.

The Sex Workers Clinic in Saidpur offers a safe place for women to rest, eat, receive medical care and participate in educational workshops. Almost all women are treated for STDs and are given pregnancy tests. When you walk into the centre you see there are posters everywhere promoting AIDS awareness and the use of condoms. The educational workshops include basic reading and writing skills, mathematics and a course on tailoring. It is a common dream for many of the women to one day have a small tailoring business. The medical workshops include AIDS awareness and STD preventative measures.

Although the centre opened in 2002 a new problem concerning the women quickly became apparent. There was no space in the clinic for the sex workers children to sleep and due to their undetermined paternity, there was no space for them in school. In Bangladesh it is required for children to be enrolled in the school system through the name of the father.

The RDRS preschool opened in the centre in 2005, giving children the basic preparation to continue onto primary school as well as nutritious snacks throughout the day. Unfortunately there is still no space for the children to live at the centre, but the RDRS staff continue their attempts to make their time in the schools comfortable.

Our first day there we met with the children and sat in on a few bangla lessons. It was hard to imagine that these children do not have any place to go when school is over, they mostly linger around the centre for a few hours. When we visited it was summer vacation for the primary school students, most of the old preschool graduates will return to pass the time.

After tea was when we first met the women on our second day. I was so nervous about what questions I’d ask and what they would think of us. As I walk into the room I am immediately taken back by all the women. Some are in their early teens, others in their late forties. Some are modestly dressed and others have beautiful and delicate shawar kamises. I wanted to remember every single face and the way they spoke. There was this one girl about fifteen who didn’t say anything the whole evening. She stayed away from the other girls and kept to herself. She had on a simple but graceful turquoise shawar kamise. I didn’t even write anything down because I didn’t know how I could possibly write down the hardship that has been these women’s lives into my flimsy pretentious moleskin. What I remember most distinctly was that they wanted guidance from us, they wanted us to tell them what they should do to make it better. They wanted to know how they could get out of the sex trade. They wanted to know if we were going to stop the centre from closing down in December. (This has been a rumor around the centre for some time and I will keep you updated on the situation).

Our second day at the centre coincided with the AIDS Candelight Memorial. All over the world were candlelight vigils for those who had passed away from aids. The centre was having its own vigil and we decided to stay. We were ushered into a room with candles and respected NGO members. The women waited outside. As the candles were being lit I could only think that I was at a candlelight vigil for women who died of AIDS and just outside the room were 15 or so women who fight for their lives every night and are in real danger of contracting the disease. The women waited outside. I thought about how they told us they are subjected to beatings, stabbings, gang raping and theft. How they are often looked over or even abused by the local police. How they are wondering what will happen to them if the centre is closed down. Still they waited outside. It wasn’t until after when I found out that they have their own separate vigil for themselves.

After the minute of silence we spent some time in the courtyard with them. We tried our best to communicate with them. Out of nowhere they started giving us their bindis (the circle that women wear between their eyes). We all took some pictures together and we were all laughing with them and having a great time with the women. Then it was time to leave, they put on their scarves and left the centre for the night. I cried in the van on the way home.

Saying goodbye to those women was one of the saddest moments of my life. We spent three days at the centre and everyday we were greeted with smiles and friendly faces. On our last day in the morning we were with the children. We made an english/bengali weather chart with them. Our interpreter and RDRS staff member, Shanto, left us for one hour with the kids. Within ten minutes only Kailey, Eileen and I were left to fend with the kids. A frenzy soon erupted and we spent the better part of minutes trying to contain the yelling and pushing. Finally, a student went to find the teacher who promptly wrangled them back in line. We had recess for the remainder of Shanto’s absence. The younger sex workers (aged 14-17) joined in with us and the children playing jump rope and taking pictures. They also gave us new bindis. They taught us how to tie our scarves “sporty style,” that would allow us to play and even dance! I couldn’t say no when the women and children asked me to dance. I hopefully did my best and they seemed to enjoy it. I would have done anything to keep them laughing.

Our discussion that afternoon with the women became more serious because we were all more comfortable with each other. I learned that pregnant women work until they give birth, they never know how many men are waiting for them and that they try to get the customers to wear condoms but they almost always refuse. They told us some customers are good and they even have lovers, people who will let them stay the night if they need. When I asked them what they would do if they didn’t have to be sex workers they answered: “We are unable to dream.”

When it was time to leave Shanto left ahead of us so that we could “weep for them”.

I wish I could have told them what beautiful and fierce women they are. I wish I could have told them how grateful and honored I am to have met them. I immediately began crying. The women told us they never have people who spend time with them. I looked at Eileen and she’s crying too. Shanto was gone and I couldn’t tell them why I was crying, that it was because they had touched my life in such a way I didn’t think was possible. Because they showed us so much kindness when they are shown none. Because their dreams shouldn’t be dreams, they should be reality. I cried because I’d never see them again. I cried for all these reasons.

On the way home we brainstormed ideas for keeping the centre open. At this point there are so many factors to be determined.

I think I’ll leave my blog at this point for now. It is late and the other girls need to do them as well. It’s been hard to detach myself from the past few days. I just know that meeting those women has given me a new determination in my life that I intend to keep.

Thank you for reading,

Celia