As the words of a popular artist, Everlast once said, “I’ve seen a rich man beg,  I’ve seen a good man sin,  I’ve seen a tough man cry,  I’ve seen a loser win,  And a sad man grin,  I heard an honest man lie,  I’ve seen the good side of bad,  And the down side of up,  And everything between.”  It’s true, nothing is ever consistently good or consistently evil either, maybe that explains why science has figured out why most of the population has become bi-polar?  I’m not psychologist, but it does make you wonder.  I have seen a lot in my life and though if I could turn back the hands of time, that was my wish, now I look back and realize everything is where it should be.  I don’t believe in God the way the bible is written, the God of my understanding and I, well we have our own special relationship.  My God have saved me from multiple attempts of suicide, saved me from several rape situations and also saved me from being murdered, but most of all he saved me from turning into the very people I despised most, traffickers.

The world of illicit trade isn’t so black and white as most people would believe it, if I told you any suspicions that I had or what I have seen I know I will have my line of haters, unbelievers and  those who are diehard fans of our government and that’s fine, cause your insults do not scare me one bit, but if I could challenge you to think about this; if you can’t believe people are literally buying a child or an infant for sex, then why do you believe that sex offenders exist?  You can’t believe half the truth and then say the possibility isn’t there?  Sure I have my bias moments as well, I personally do not believe in giving aggravated sex offenders a human way to be punished, I do believe an eye for an eye, especially when it comes to a child or an infant or anyone who is vulnerable.

My point is this, when you feel the need to “preach” to anyone what is trafficking/pimping or you are going to a conference that is about that topic, do not be so naive to believe those very people you are warning about, aren’t there either, because they are.   Criminals have become very smart, unlike the cartoons we may have grown up with, they aren’t stupid.  I will admit I’ve seen and heard stories of idiots, but a true criminal, is highly intelligent.  What my hope is in the near future is to step away from the whole, “Chong Kim’s story” and start doing something training and work.  I want to do workshops with; law enforcement, social workers, activist, law students and schools.  People who’ve never been trafficked, I don’t mean to discredit you, but you can read all the text, true crime stories or watch an unlimited of CSI or Law & Order shows, but until you have come face to face with their MO, their smell, their demeanor, character, persona(s) and have lived with them, eat with them, breath with them, then you honestly cannot offer insights that us survivors can, but what you can do is bring us into a movement so that we can decrease or prevent another person, child, woman, boy to be the next victim.

I never understood the segregation that we have created in this country; abolitionist who are survivors, feminist, academics, law enforcements and faith base, it’s time to eliminate the segregation and work together to end this vicious cycle, if you truly want to end this you must come prepared with an open mind and the willingness to learn all aspects, if you come in with an assumption you will walk out with only crumbs of information.  I don’t share graphic sexual details to children, but let’s quit with the naïve-ness when you hesitate to invite me to your Congregation, Church, Schools of Jr. High or High School, what you think your children have NOT heard, I guarantee you they have and if I’m wrong, trust me what I tell them will save their life.  That is a GUARANTEE.  If you think I am ignorant to talk about sex to a 6 year old, you have no idea who I am, but I will to a 12 year old girl/boy; did you know there are 10 year old children giving oral sex to each other and was told that was not “sex” so they thought it was okay?  Did you know pre-teens are taking birth control because the older kids told them it would protect them from STD and HIV?  If you didn’t know, I believe it’s time for me to come and talk to your family, church or school.  Remember, DENIAL is the number one killer in our children today.

If you are serious in learning their behaviors and you want to know more, please contact me at: chong@chongkim.net   Thank you!

Red Light District . . .

You hear the name and you immediately assume,

Candy store just for your sexual appetite,

But if I told you the truth behind the music,

Neon lights and the dancers performing,

Would it still be just a candy store?

You feel the vibration of the base as you walk down the alley,

The cool breeze gives your skin the bumps,

The chill overwhelms you, yet you ignore it.

The base of the music gets louder,

Muffled behind the steel door waiting for you to grab the handle

And you walk in . . .

Neon lights flashing,

Did you know the vision you see is distorted by reality?

You walk in, all eyes on you.

You take center stage,

You perform, but what?

The eye liner that contours your lids,

Brings out the seduction, so they say . .

Play the part they want to see,

Your hips begin to move to the rhythm of the beat,

You feel the base vibrate your chest,

You’re intoxicated, you can’t feel anymore.

You sit among the cannibals, watching yourself

You look deep into your own eyes,

You stare at the ground, avoid the eye contact of your predators

As they stare perusing your body with their hungry eyes.

You are nothing but meat,

They stare, examine, decide and then they pick.

Comparison to a grocery store in the market,

When we look for that lean meat,

Less fat, more protein and the thickness.

Not too big, but enough to devour our taste buds.

Music fades as I swing around the pole,

The watchful eye is constantly staring,

Too much demands I can’t keep up.

I spin around uncontrollably,

I fall on the ground,

My palms touch the mirror,

My mascara streaming down my face,

My skin so pale, I’m like a ghost . . .

Behind me the monster that clinches my body

Through his claws,

Blood is dripping from my nose,

Too much cocaine I just can’t stop.

I stare at my hands, covered in black and blue.

Gripping onto the floor, trying to hold myself up,

As he’s cannibalizing my body.

I close my eyes, tears fall among the drips of my eyeliner,

I pray for death,

No redemption for me.

No one perceives me as a prisoner,

I am just a clown performing for predators.

Over and over I am raped,

Silent victim, because I have no voice.

How did I get here?

Yeah, I chose this life because I have nothing better to do

Then to choose misery . . .

To be persecuted by family, society and even to dealers,

Is to be sold without limits.

Without education, without stability and without love.

Did God forget about us?

Where do we belong?

Yes, right here in Red Light District.

Did you get to visit the dumpster?

You didn’t think they have one?

As I take you down the dark alley,

I open up the steal rusted corridors and as the doors swing open

Bodies piled up, Used up

And now thrown away.

After years of infecting our bodies

To fulfill the mouths of predators,

There was no cure . . .

My body cast out, piled on top of lifeless women and children

Who’s lives cost nothing, but millions to those who own us just to satisfy

The hunger of the Beast.

Think it’s harmless?

When do you want to sign up?

By:  Chong N. Kim, 1-2-12

“Everybody wants to see a “Clown”, but nobody wants to understand.” -C. Kim

I’m writing this blog specifically for my fellow survivors, because I do understand.  We’ve heard it all before, “If you tell your story, you will save many lives.”  “They want to see your face, because it’s REAL to them.”  And my FAVORITE!  “We are looking for “new” victims, someone who’s just been rescued.”

Now this is what I will share with you what all of those comments sound to US (Survivors).  “Tell your story and you will get 15 minutes of fame and after that you won’t matter because our ratings will get to rise.”  “We don’t believe you until we see the tears in your eyes.”  And last:  “Well . . . you’re getting old and we are tired of hearing your story and we’ve heard it all before, so we need a fresh meat to exploit.”

Let me give you a little hint:

This is not just based off of my own personal experience with media, journalist, and TV Hosts; but I’ve heard the outcries and hurts from my fellow brothers and sisters.  I have however heard on the otherside of the spectrum of journalist, media and TV Host the most common question.  “We CAN’T find survivors that are willing to speak.”  Want to know why???  READ ABOVE!!!

Please note that I’m not attacking ALL journalist, media or TV Host, but most of the ones that have said the same thing as above, yes I’m talking to YOU.  I’ve been able to be strong enough to stand up to share my story so I will say this to you on behalf of my fellow brothers and sisters of exploitation/trafficking.  We are NOT your pet or a caged animal or clown, we are people who have feelings and what you are DOING is exploiting us.  If a survivor contacts you to share their story, suggestion:  take it, but don’t exploit it.  DO NOT look for new victims even if they want to, they NEED to heal first instead of their trauma being sensationalized.  This blog is for you my survivors so that you are not fallen short in media exploitation.  Here’s a scenario that most of us go through:

We get a call from a major  TV production company that says our story is amazing.  We aren’t being compensated for our time, we don’t have an attorney to represent us so that we can AVOID being exploited further, then we are given this glamourous promise.  “Guess what!  You get to come to (NY or LA), shop around, hang out downtown and see the popular scenary that you see on TV!  Then you get an awesome make over and get to meet the TV Host!”  REALITY:  They fly you in, by the time you settle into this nice hotel it’s past dinner time so you end up missing out on dinner, then the next morning they have you up and early to prepare for the TV shoot/interview.  They go over the contract so fast that to you it sounds like foreign language, you don’t understand and the demeanor of the rep doesn’t look warm and inviting, they look rushed so without obliging you sign the dotted line without realizing that any footage they have on you they OWN it, NOT you!  You still haven’t ate you’re anxiety is rising on top of that this is your FIRST TV interview, you are risking your life, your vulnerability and your innocence to be exploited on television, but you rationalize yourself by saying, “I’m helping others.”  They put you in a “dressing” room nothing like you see in the movies, these are just finger snacks, but you eat them any way, then they have you sit in the make up room for a coupe of hours to do a make over on you, once that is done all you can think about is wanting to say Hi or Thank you to the host of TV for taking the time out to bring up this issue, but then you find yourself not having that time.  Once the interview is done and they got what they wanted from you, they immediately fly you out so you can be home.

Excuse me if I sound like a Bitch, but this is NO way to treat a victim/survivor; you are asking a very big thing and you play as if it is small and petty and you have NO idea what further trauma you have just caused here.  1.)  Quit promising glamour if you’re not going to deliver; you’re not talking to a TV star wanna be.  YOU asked for us to be on your show, YOU begged for us to share our story and yet this is the F*cking thanks that we get???  I’m posting this for other survivors who have YET to be exploited in this way and I want to TEACH them to ASK for what they feel they deserved.  I undrstand that compensation for an interview is slim to none unless you are loaded with attorneys by your side or you have become a survivor-celebrity, but for those who are unknown here are some tips for you:

1.)  Ask specifically who you are talking to, get first and last name and a contact e-mail and phone.

2.)  Whatever they PROMISE you, don’t believe it unless it is in WRITING and e-mail does NOT count.

3.)  If you have a caseworker, counselor, pastor share with them your concerns.

4.)  NEVER compromise your safety, if you DO NOT want to share your face you have that RIGHT.

5.)  If you feel the need to be flown in a day or two before the interview and the day or two after, be sure to let them know that and any big time TV productios don’t believe them when they say they DON’T have the budget for it, if they can afford A star celebrity on their show they CAN afford you.

6.)  When in doubt, do NOT obligate yourself to say yes you are not in debt with them, they are ASKING you.

7.)  Final Note:  Since most of you may not have an attorney to represent you, you now have ME, if you are going through this please do not hesitate to send me an e-mail and I WILL find someone to help you, you don’t have to be re-exploited.

There is NOTHING wrong in sharing your story, to empower and enrich the lives of others just as long as you know full and well this is what YOU want and not the obligation of the church/religion, counseling or even peers if you feel you need more time to heal please follow your heart, others can wait.  I pick the title: “Tears of a clown” because that is how we are being treated, the audience wants to see a face, but after the show is finished we are sent away as though we are nothing and regardless of how strong the survivor is, by treating them like a clown only puts them behind the bars you create to seperate the freak behind the cage and the rest of the world.  I am writing so my brothers and sisters will learn to stand tall and ASK for respect and have the freedom to share and empower others without further exploitation.  Thank you for letting me share . . .

Love,

Me

I got up this morning around 7:45 a.m. and just laid in my bed staring at that still ceiling fan this morning and realized I’m going home. I remember my intentions to write a daily blog before I came on this trip, but as the days went by, I would find myself so distracted and busy that I didn’t have time and the time I did have, I felt my blog could wait. I wanted to enjoy every moment that I had in Cambodia and in Thailand. I would sit outside of my hotel room on the patio, or the open space lobby or at a coffee shop with friends and just enjoy the tasteful smoothie, while I soak up the image of nature’s beauty of this magnificent country and just let it take my breath away. I felt my readers would understand that I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to put time and my visit on hold to stare at my ipad for an hour or even half an hour.
I’m a huge believer that time is of the essence, no second should be wasted on frivilous things and to enjoy life at the most. Even though I got to visit the slum areas and see the poverty staring straight back at me, but I also saw peace, tranquility and acceptance, to me that was beautiful. The people in these country live through faulty plumbing, you can smell the sewage, you see the trash piled up as the wind pushes scraps away from the rest of them, the town seems hopeless as you would assume, but what it did teach me was we as “Americans” have this “My way” of thinking of what hopeless means. We feel the need to diagnose and label everything, this is what these peopple live through everyday, yes it’s a struggle, but every time I see their eyes, their smile and it’s not the fake kind. I first came here seeing pity, I left their country thanking them for teaching me and reminding me that resilience isn’t about living in an uptown world, having a house that looks like everybody else and driving around fancy cars, but that it’s about enjoying life, living life and you do what you can and if that completes you then no one should judge you.
We as Americans have the need to fix things, we bombard someone’s country to tell them how to believe, what to believe and to them that what they believe is wrong, that I do NOT agree with, I want to come back not to fix, but to be apart of their community, to work alongside them and if they want their town clean, I’ll help if not, I’ll sit with them and watch the trash fly down the empty streets, this is their town not mine, who am I to tell them how to live? The only thing I can offer them is my friendship.
Right now I’m on the plane back to LAX (Los Angeles, CA) then off to my connecting flight to DFW (Dallas/Ft. Worth). I don’t feel excited about going home, if I had the money I’d stay longer. I’d love to live in Thailand and help Destiny Rescue or help the Lighthouse Orphanage, I felt my purpose in those country then I ever did here in the states. I don’t want to speak, I don’t care to repeat my story over and over, I want to rescue, I want to be alongside my brothers and sisters that are oppressed and remind them of hope. I literally would give up my home, car, status; EVERYTHING just to live in SE Asia and just be apart of their world. Just saying . . . We may have a flawed system, but no country is perfect. Even in the slums of America, we still have aluminum floors or carpet, not dirt or concrete. We may chose to sleep on the floor, but we have charity, welfare and churches literally handed to us if we are in need, it is our choice to find it; here there is NO charity of any kind. If sewer pipes were overflowing a town, someone or some company would get sued or there would be a protective fence to keep children out, here it just flows into the city and small children and animals drink it. We live in a digital world, we know more about celebrity gossips and reality tv shows then we do in other countries, children here are learning to sew, make necklaces, handbags, blankets and clothing, they have very little understanding of celebrity lives. Even if we aren’t given what we “feel” we deserve, if not now, but later someone will feel sorry for us and have us tattle our sorrows on the media to find someone to give us what we weren’t compensated for, but these people . . . who will listen to their sob stories? If we don’t stop what we are doing, I truly believe we will LOSE everything. I would love to move out here in Cambodia and soak up more of their love, appreciation and of course their genuine smile. Thank you Cambodia/Thailand for reminding me that I am not the lucky one, you are. Well, this is all I have to say, so I’m going to close for now, but I thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts.

Right now it is 5:15 p.m. and we just got done doing some interviews with Tony and me near the Chiang Rai beach. I have some time to kill so I thought I’d update on my blog. In the past few days I’ve been so busy and tired that I haven’t had a chance to catch up, I didn’t realize keeping up with a blog would be so hard. To bring you up to date, when I last wrote I was in Sihanoukeville, Cambodia; we only stayed there two nights, the third day we checked out and rode the bus back to Phnom Penh and had Sokha take us to the airport in Cambodia, while we were there I got to meet David and Linney Chacko before we flew out to Bangkok, Thailand. The guys were able to capture some interview takes with Linney and get her expert opinion on trafficked children in Cambodia. When we got to Bangkok, we took a cab to Khaosan Rd to the D&D Inn in the main hub of Bangkok. It was very crowded and busy, we met up with Tony & Damien who are the rescurers of Destiny Rescue. The original plan was for us to visit PatPong which is a whole different scenario then Khaosan, both are in Bangkok for those of you who’ve never been to Bangkok. My first night at PatPong was like walking down a porn strip, you would see these men out in the street pulling perverted tourists in, letting them know the latest and so called “greatest” sex acts that would be far beyond your imagination. The first time I heard about the “Ping Pong Show”, I literally thought it was a ping pong game show, but boy was I wrong! I thought through my personal experience in the sex industry that nothing could surprise me, but Bangkok proved me otherwise.
It’s one thing to see filth through poverty or economical stress that I can handle, but the filth I’m talking about is the line of pervs waiting to take it’s plunge into the sex world of cannibalizing minors to satisfy their shallow existence, ugh it makes me sick to my stomach and what’s worse is that these men are MARRIED with children and some of these men have daughters of their own, ugh what is wrong with some people!!! Pat Pong is a world of the underground of sex trade, however these pervs want it, these line of businesses will deliver; a woman, a young vulnerable teenager or a small child, I just can’t fathom why nor do I need to, it is just WRONG! As the guys and I kept strolling through the streets of Pat Pong, one of the guys said, “You gotta check out this bar . . .” and then everything else faded as I saw a lady standing near the door along with two young gentlemen, behind them were strip dancers, I assumed they were females so I walked in just doing what I do best, blending in. I noticed these particular “ladies” were VERY happy to see me and I don’t mean happy as in oh a customer, but as in “hey girl let’s party sometime.” Trust me on this when I say this, there is a difference. I sat there among the “ladies” sharing a drink and just talking to them. The one on my left had a very different tone when she was talking to me, then I thought . . . “Wait a minute, are they dudes???” So, I looked at their throat to look for the adam’s apple, let me tell you most of them did NOT have any so it was really hard to tell, until I realized another sign. If they were truly women and what they didn’t realize about me is that I’ve been a stripper before and I don’t remember me and my girls pulling out our breast to make sure they were real or not, but then again you never know with these type of places. When one of the guys came back and asked me how I was doing, they were trying to give me a hint to see if I noticed. The last thing I wanted to do was panic and I didn’t want to set these “types” of ladies off so I just sat there smiled and act natural, not that they bothered me, which they didn’t, but I was taken by surprise how WELL the surgery was done on these guys, especially to eliminate any obvious signs that they were previous men. What really confirmed it was when one of the ladies asked me if I go to gay clubs that often, yeah I do, but I’ve never seen so many . . . . please know that I’m trying to remember the proper terminology, for I do not want to offend anyone and I do mean that in all sincerity, plus I should’ve noticed the number of “Justin Bieber’s songs” continuously playing over and over.
After I left, of course the guys thought that was hilarious, ha ha ha and they asked me how could I NOT know? The surgery was really good! I don’t go to strip clubs anymore, not that it’s not my thing, but I just have no desire other than to rescue minors or women who are forced in the industry. Then we went into this other strip club and this is where the minors are at. I would sit and watch the girls one by one, I could tell which one was barely making it, meaning she’d dance, but that’s all she’d ever do. She would avoid eye contact especially by customers watching her so she wouldn’t be picked, she would stand in the same place for every song and move as little as possible, move her body just enough so the Mama San wouldn’t get on to her, but not get into it. To me they remind me of the “Newbies” in the industry.
They haven’t been broken down just yet and they don’t necessarily have to be beaten or tortured to be broken down either, just an FYI. Then I noticed this one particular girl that was really hyper, dancing and extremely friendly and affectionate, as me and the guys sat there watching the girls I explained to them that even the ones that appear to “enjoy” their situation doesn’t mean they were the less beaten, many times it is the opposite. This particular girl reminded me of the Jules I became. Playing the part, curtains up the light shines brightly at you that you blind yourself so you aren’t staring back at reality. The music of the base vibrates your chest as if you’re having heart palpitations, you play your best performance, wowing the audience, hoping that sick predator notices you. Just like a snake you watch in return, setting out your trap, make him think that you are all into him, but what he doesn’t know as that you’ve turned the tables around. He has now become “my” prey. You say these things to yourself so you don’t lose control, you don’t feel like you’ve failed. You’ve tried to rationalize everything in your head, but this is the only “lie” you begin to believe, it’s the only one you feel the most control.
It wasn’t hard being there, but it definitely brought back some memories, I felt torn inside knowing that after I leave and 2 a.m. comes around the unknown of torture is just waiting on the other side and there’s NOTHING I can do at that moment and that is the hardest part to deal with. I personally know what goes on behind the closed doors, the facade of fake smiles and the popping music that makes everyone feel like a partier. The lights, music, atmosphere and drinks entertwine with deceit, deception and agony of lies that “we” enjoy it the torture. It’s times like this that makes me wonder why people ask the STUPIDEST questions, “Do they enjoy it?”
I’ve known strip clubs that don’t allow alcohol, but let me tell you this about 90% of girls will drink or get high before they come in, during their break they’ll sneak off the premises and spike their drink or smoke a blunt; either that they’ve given themselves a strong rationale that doesn’t require intoxicating our bodies; feeding my family, children, paying rent, economical survival. “Why not get a job?”
Hmmm, let me give you glimpse into OUR world.

1.) Single mom with one or more children in need of diapers, formula or other necessity at 2 a.m., what programs do you know will provide these things at such hour? Most charities and churches aren’t available in the middle of the night or on the weekends, unless you give up your home or everything you own to live in a shelter, which there is no NEED for that either! Crisis don’t happen at 8-4 M-F people!

2.) A mother who’s been previously charged with drugs/prostitution has a felony, who’s going to hire her? How many felony friendly businesses can you find that can pay her enough to feed her children/family?

3.) Before Prostitution was considered “Trafficking”, women/girls were required to be registered as sex offenders, today housing won’t allow sex offenders to apply for public housing or subsidized rent; also if felons w/o crime-victim related charges are having difficulty in finding employment, do you think sex offenders can? Do you know any attorneys that will be happy to expunge their records without pay? I don’t.

4.) This is particularly in SE Asia, but to work in fast food franchise or even a gas station requires a college degree, so if any of you people want to keep complaining about why these women should find jobs think again.

There are so many other factors that play into the whole entrapment of sex slavery, but before we start asking stupid questions, why don’t you get to know us first before assuming we live in the “land of the free.” Being here in both Cambodia and Thailand have truly made me appreciate the life I have and the strength that God has given me, I am truly blessed, most of these girls lose more then just the custody of their babies, but also their life. I’m going to stop here and let you ponder on this blog. Thank you for letting me share.

Right now it’s 5:20 p.m. on the 8th of December and I’m sitting in the so-called lobby of the resort that I’m currently staying. The reason why I call it a so-called lobby, for those who’ve never traveled, it’s actually a patio you see the full beach view from your table. I woke up this morning around 7:30 a.m. and ugh, I felt hot and muggy. Jumped in the shower and decided to put my hair up instead of a ponytale. I sat out in the lobby around about 8:15 a.m. and ordered my breakfast and just waited on Jason and Mike to join me. Today, me and Jason discussed what all we are planning to do for the documentary and how I can be interviewed for my “expert” opinion without sharing my story. By the time noon came around we decided to break for lunch, as I strolled down the shore, there were mini shops along the shore that were attached with coffee shops/pubs, I decided to persue through the mini markets and saw this dress that caught my eye. The lady knew I had an interest and encouraged me to try it.
I knew it wouldn’t fit me so I shook my head no, she kept insisting and told me it stretched, I thought why not? So, I asked where the fitting room was, how ignorant of me to even think they might have one with a small room they had with the limited displays, so she pointed to the corner of the room, then she nailed up a sheet to cover me, I could barely put the dress on, I either blew up in this heat in Cambodia or I was bigger then I imagined, (I’m going to go with the blowing up in the heat). With my limited mobility in my right arm, I had a difficult time taking off the dress, so instead I began to spin around, having the sheet wrap around me as well. I got twisted into the sheet and accidentally tore the sheet down as I fell on the ground. I was seriously worried this woman might sue me for damage, but instead she laughed. Maybe that was a good thing??? I kept apologizing for the ripped sheet and she kept apologizing back to me, I wasn’t sure why she was apologizing for, but we both realized the dress was NOT for me. Once I was able to get the dress off I saw a litter of puppies all scattered and OMG, they were sooooo cute!!! I picked one up and asked the owner if I could take it with me to the other coffee shops and hold it for a bit and she smiled and said ok. I brought the puppy to Mike and Jason and Jason’s first question was, “You bought the puppy?” with the expression of, “Oh my what did she do now???”
My response was, “Yeah so Customs can question why I smuggled a puppy when the purpose of my trip was to prevent trafficking/smuggling.” When I said that Mike laughed and took some photos of me holding the puppy, but I do have to admit the puppy was sooo cute I wanted to keep it. By the time we got done with lunch the rain started we ran into one of their rooms to do the interview for the film. We were able to cover 2-3 interview scenes and after that the rain started pouring so the guys called it a night, so the rest of my evening I can relax, not that I haven’t. I have to say my experience so far as been very humbling and I’m very excited for what’s coming next. Well, I’m going to jump off for now and I’ll chat with you later!

Always,
Me

(Day one)
Since my time here in Phnom Penh, I’ve truly absorbed the hidden beauty of this mysterious place. People are really nice even through the rough economy, it almost makes me feel selfish what we take for granted everyday. My first day, I pretty much did some relaxing most of the time. I arrived at my hotel around 10 a.m. and Mike and Jason didn’t arrive until around 6-7 p.m. I hung out around the hotel most of the time, I didn’t want to take the risk of getting lost, knowing me. By the time the guys arrived, I got in touch with Sary via phone a friend of Eric’s, who invited us to come out for dinner, but the guys were too exhausted that they wanted to stay put. We had dinner together and just talked and got better acquainted. We all turned in around 10:30 p.m., I think this time zone worked really well for me, I fell asleep the moment I hit the pillow. I woke up around 4 a.m., I was actually freezing and could not figure out how to turn down the air so I just stayed up instead and just chatted with some friends online until 7-7:30 a.m.

(Day two)
Mike, Jason and I had arranged Sokho to return to take us to the orphanage for a little visit this morning, when we got there I fell in love with the children. I got to visit with one of the kids, the person that showed me around told me that Eric is known as: “Super man” to these kids. I think it’s very sweet that someone cares for these children, they are abandoned, outcast and abused. The children could speak English very well and I was really impressed and they were very welcoming when I came. Mike took some footage of me interacting with the kids. I was sad that my visit to this orphanage was short, we had to head back to PP and then to the beach in Cambodia. We all rode on the bus and next thing I knew about an hour and a half of the drive, the bus broke down, although nobody was disappointed it gave everyone a chance to step out and stretch their legs for a bit. My eyes are acting up again, ugh it’s sooo frustrating especially in a time like this.

Our 3.5 hours drive turned into another 2.5 added to it, we ended up in Sihanouk Ville, which is south of Cambodia and it’s the coast line of the country. We checked in around 6:30 to 7 p.m. had dinner then afterwards just walked up and down the shore enjoying the night view of the beautiful beach. One of the things I thought was really sad was there were physically disabled people strolling by and when I said “strolling” I literally meant it. This one guy didn’t have legs and he scooted his body up and down the shore and begged for money. I was heartbroke, because I know all too well about begging and I felt very torn apart because I couldn’t help them and I wanted too, along with attracting other beggers as well.

Jason, Mike and I just walked and talked and had drinks, yeah . . . I think I had too much to drink; I ordered too much coke lol. Ha ha thought I had ya there! Anywho, the lifestyle of prostitution was definitely visible on the shoreline along with the string of pubs, bars and coffee shops all in one. I saw vulnerable young women walking along the shoreline waiting for the next predator to take notice and to victimize her as she rationalizes the reason for her own enslavement. The wi fi here has not been very strong or reliable so it’s been difficult in trying to stay in touch with anyone back home. By the time we all decided to call it a night it was close to 1:20 a.m. The room I am in, you can tell you are near a beach, the furniture are made out of wicker or bamboo parts, the room is really humid and my air condition is not working, ugh I just hope I can sleep tonight. Well, I’m going to close and get me some shut-eye. Goodnight . . .

Yesterday, I left around 4:45 p.m. to the DFW Airport and checked in with AA at the desk, I was actually shocked that the ticket attendant was nice, normally I get neutral service meaning they aren’t bubbly and smiling, they’re just doing their job. By the time I arrived at the gate and getting ready to board, I was happy I ended up in the window seat. I made a new friend name, Laura an older Chinese lady about the same age as my mom. She didn’t speak much English, but I felt very nurtured by her. She would open her bag during the flight from DFW to LAX and share some home made steamed dumplings with me. One thing I’ve learned about older Asian ladies you never say no when they offer to share food to you. The dumplings were very good, cold but good. We conversated the best we could but what I admired about her spirit, even though neither one of us could speak the same language it didn’t stop her to try to conversate with me so I give her many kudos for trying. She told me she now resides in Los Angeles in China town and tells me that when I visit LA, to give her a call and she has friends who owns restaurants in China town that I can eat for free.

I love the word “Free Food”!!! She and I talked for a little bit and I shared pictures of my family with her and of course I showed her the video of my niece Sophie, she thought Sophie was so adorable. Even with her broken English accent I could understand her very well, the dialect sounds very similar to my moms. When we were getting close to landing, she showed me her ticket, her destination would be to baggage claim and I would be escorted to my next plane. When a flight attendant walked by, she patted her on the arm and showed her the ticket and ask her a question, I thought the attendant was really rude. She kept raising her voice to the lady and said, “Where are you going?” Because the Chinese lady was coming from London, she wanted to know if she still needs to go through Customs or just pick up her luggage, even I understood what she wanted and I don’t speak Manderin.

I tried to explain it to the attendant and of course her ignorance got the best of her cause she started to talk to me as if I couldn’t speak English, there are times I wish I could do the training to these flight attendants. Urrr! By the time we got off, she was so lost that she followed me instead even though our destination weren’t even close and I couldn’t just abandon her so I paid the wheelchair attendant an extra $20 to allow her to follow us to the baggage claim and then take me to my destination, when the attendant saw the $20 she didn’t hesitate. I waited til she was able to get to the baggage claim and to make the phone call for someone to pick her up and then I was on my way to China Airlines!

By the time I got to China Airlines, I had to switch wheelchair attendant to take me through check point which I had no idea this was the protocal. I had to take off my shoes and this time TSA made me take my iPad 2 out of it’s case. I find it amazing that the US TSA policy is suppose to follow the same protocal but no matter where you go you get different directions and different rules, how is that even possible? Then all I had on was my pink EIU Breast Cancer hoodie and of course my bra underneath. One of the TSA worker asked me if I had any clothes underneath my hoodie I answered no, then his reply back was, “Are you sure?”

What??? Of course I’m sure! Who do you think dressed me this morning? Anywho, I repeated myself once again to assure to the TSA worker that I had nothing underneath but my bra. He stood there just staring at me, I saw a female TSA worker and told her that I’m not taking off my hoodie unless they want to see the color of my bra. Then she waved me on to move forward. One of the annoying things about flying though, is my disability. I have a steel shoulder socket and a ceramic hip joint and it never seems to fail that it alerts the scanner or the metal wand that some securities still have, so I end up getting the special treatment, THE PAT DOWN! Wooo Hooo!

By the time I got to my gate at LAX to board China Airlines, I knew it was close to 10 p.m. and I wondered if they would still offer food I was so hungry. On my itinerary it states that I would get a window seat, I was excited so that I could rest and I would have less complications due to my arthritis, but instead they gave me the aisle seat. I told the attendant if I could switch because of my arthritis, but to no avail did that happen. My shoulder ended up giving me so much pain, good thing I brought some pain killers. It subsided, but didn’t completely go away. On the plane I made another friend, she is Korean and is from Seoul, Korea. Her husband is also in the military, but for the Korean Military. She didn’t speak much English either, but my Korean wasn’t very good, but according to her she said I did well. We swapped numbers during our flight and I was able to have two meals during my flight. I did most of the translating for my new Korean friend, which helped her a lot. By the time we got to Taipei, I had to go through aother security check point, this time since it was in a different country I hoped there would be no complications since I was unaware of their policy. I realized they weren’t as strict as the US, which was nice! I got to keep my shoes on!

One of the things I did like about the airports is that it had free wi fi, so I was able to go online to get in touch with a few friends and family to let them know I was in Taiwan and heading out to Cambodia! Unfortunately, my iPad and iPhone are giving two different times for Phnom Phen, so I have no idea which time is correct, but we’re suppose to be landing around 10:30 to 11 a.m. in Cambodia. I just had a small brunch I’d say about an hour ago, so I’m assuming I’ve been on this flight for close to 2 hours. From here on out the destination will be on my own, so wish me good luck when I land and I will write some more . . . .

Later,
Me!

I made a bargain with the school counselor and said, “I have a DVD of a popular music video “PIMP” By 50 cent, if the students are not familiar with the video I will pack up my things and will not show my face again.  The counselor agreed so we set up a time and date for me to speak at the auditorium.  I TV was front and center, I placed the DVD in and the music video popped up, the music haven’t even been played yet and as the students walked in, they cheered with glee cause they knew what this music video was about.  I looked at the school counselor and she stood there in shock.  Let me remind you that this was not a public school it was a Christian Private High School.  I didn’t play the whole video just the beginning, just enough to see how many students were familiar with this type of music.

When the students sad in the bleachers, I challenged them to get a pen and paper and to draw a line in the middle.  Write woman on one side and man on the other.  I told them if they were familiar with the video to describe to me in one word list what they believe the music represented.  Then I asked for 6 volunteers (3 girls/3 boys).  The amazing thing was they ALL had the same answer:  woman (half naked, dog chains around their necks, silent, behind the man); man (front, center, kings, master, fully clothed)  after reviewing what they wrote, I told them when they listen to these types of music and see no harm they are encouraging slavery.

I then pulled out a large poster of the Atlantic Slave Trade of a Master that was fully clothed, front, center, status of wealth and a cane, in front of the slavemaster, was the slave: half naked, silent, dog chain around their necks.)  The children gasped with surprise.  I told them that the word “Pimp” is nothing of fashion, but a contribution of slavery.  After the presentation, few of the girls came up to me and confessed that someone in their school had promoted prostitution through a record label deal.  I encouraged the girls to share this information to the school counselor and after wards we had the police involved.  We don’t realize what is circulating in the media or what our children are watching and when we say it’s harmless, it only becomes a stepping stone of encouragement of that type of behavior.  I wanted to share this with you to help you realize that even something so small as a music video can encourage a young child’s mind that slavery is ok.

Note:  Due to confidentiality, I did not note the person’s name, school or whereabouts of the school, but all is true and this is just an FYI that we need to encourage schools to join in the fight of slavery.

Thank you!

resembles a life she had.

The date that it was taken

was the last memory of her

spirit dancing.

Beyond that point,

only one can imagine,

but do you stop and wonder

if she’s still pleading?

You look, then walk away.

You excuse yourself

by saying,

“She’s not mine.”

Doing Nothing,

makes you part of the problem

NOT the solution.

You go home remembering

the face of the girl,

you stare at your own children

and think,

“No, it’s not going to happen to me.”

In the evening you kiss your girls

goodnight and just know in confidence

that they’ll be there to wake you in the morning.

Morning rises and laughter fills the room

you kiss them goodbye as they ride the

bus to school.

You head to work, assuming things

will remain the same as usual.

You come home, you see police cars surrounding

your perfect lawn.

You walk in to find your spouse on the couch,

then it hits you.

Your little girl has become the girl

you saw in the picture.

Now that you’ve passed her by,

just imagine how many more will pass yours.

(c) Chong N. Kim

I wrote this in anger, because I saw people walking by Walmart, a wall filled with “Missing Children” and people DON’T CARE.  This angers me and nor do I EVER wish this on anyone, doesn’t mean it won’t happen.  Traffickers are nothing but Beasts, they hunt, they prey, they watch and then they pounce and all it takes is for them to have up to an hour to escape and do what they do best.  I’ll leave that part up to you.  This note is to make you angry and make you WANT to do something.  These victims aren’t prostitutes so quit calling them that.  They are our children.