Istanbul was a significant location for a gathering held for those working with trafficking survivors. Historically, the capital of both the Islamic and Christian Empires, it stands astride the continents of Europe and Asia. At dusk, as the snow fell, it was fascinating to explore the streets, leaning in to hear the heartbeat of the city, inspired by the book ‘Istanbul’ written by the Turkish novelist, Orhan Pamuk, about the city of his birth. 

The history of land is significant and we were meeting in the Old City not far from the Topkapi Palace, the political and symbolic centre of the Ottoman Empire for nearly four centuries. The palace Harem consisted of four hundred rooms where the Sultan lived with his wives, children and female slaves. The majority of the women of the Harem lived dangerously short lives at risk of disease and death from the bitter Istanbul winters. Those kept as a Harem in the ‘Cage’, where possible successors to the throne were incarcerated, suffered even more. They never left the Cage unless they got pregnant at which point they were immediately drowned. The Sultans who lived there often became deranged, including the aptly named ‘Ibrahim the Mad.’

To this day Istanbul remains a centre of trafficking, particularly for girls from Russia and the ‘Stans’. Many of the girls go there to work as a waitress or a dancer, only to end up being prostituted – the job offers simply an entrapment.

The emphasis of the gathering was unexpected, although, because of our values as a community, affirming. We have been involved for a number of years in working with survivors of extreme abuse. In doing so we have encouraged the ‘healers’ to be prepared to face up to their own pain.

The healing model taught in the gathering was drawn from the Beatitudes. It was about being poor in spirit- recognizing our need of Jesus and being prepared to be real, so that we could then mourn and receive His comfort. It was about being meek – willing to forgive both our self and others.

How could we ever encourage those who had experienced the most unimaginable pain and terrible of betrayals to risk stepping into healing and the unknown, if we were unwilling to do the same?

This statue of a young woman in Chisinau, the capital of Moldova begs a question -   ‘If she could, what future would she choose?’

We arrived in Chisinau to a city centre awash with expensive cars, smart restaurants and designer shops. It was very different to the semi- derelict Soviet concrete apartment blocks where we were told we might be accommodation available. We were kindly warned to be cautious because there was no lighting in the stairwell and to beware of syringes and aggressively placed razor blades!

For all of that, despite a lack of connections and no knowledge of Russian and or Moldovan/ Romanian, we were led into an amazing series of divine appointments. We were very grateful for phrasebooks, English speakers and for our shamelessness in mime!

We met some wonderful people including…Amnesty International activists who helped us understand issues of corruption between denominational churches and the State.… A Christian – who connected us with people helping teenagers, at the vulnerable point, when they leave the huge orphanage system.…The beautiful young girl we met as a result of this was one of the fortunate ones. She was receiving practical and emotional support to make the transition into a new life and, as such, was less likely to be preyed upon by traffickers. One of the few things the State gives young people as they leave the orphanage system is a passport. We learnt from others that street kids are often targeted by those engaged in the illegal trade in body parts. This makes it necessary to visit teenage prisoners. They are less likely to be ‘disappeared’ if someone cares about them.

The number of posters advertising a better life and/or education in the West also struck us. These were frequently positioned outside government buildings or the expensive offices of well-dressed people. These were the same people who drove smart cars and who were jumpy, even threatening, if any interest was shown in what appeared to be their business in organized crime.

Our time in Moldova was like tentatively undoing a Babushka doll. As, layer-by-layer, we searched in this precious nation for understanding of the issues, their roots, and pointers to a different way.

FLAME

The ‘Flame’ blog stream is one strand in the unfolding journey of how, as a community, we are attempting to engage with the issue of sex trafficking. One inspiration for this is a young woman called Naomi*  who lived with our family for a year or so. She provoked us with her unyielding determination to work amongst those caught in prostitution in the brothels of India. Naomi is one of the most understated yet bravest people I know. It has been a fight for her to end up doing what she has longed to do. Hopefully you will read more of her journey in a future blog.

The research I undertook for ‘The Kingfisher Flame’ has also fed into this focus and since its recent publication I have been freer to follow things through. In January this year a friend invited me to go with her to a gathering in Istanbul on developing ministries to the survivors of trafficking. A group working in Moldova had initiated the meeting and that, in particular, sparked me, as in September 2007 I had set off with another mad friend on a week’s ‘wild wandering’. We were sent out in pairs or small teams to follow the Holy Spirit wherever He might want us to go.

We were drawn to Moldova because we wanted to follow the Father’s Heart to the poorest of the poor and in 2007 Moldova was ranked as the poorest nation in Europe. (In 2012 that is still the case with a per capita income of $3,383.) In particular, we suspected that the level of poverty left young women vulnerable to being trafficked. We also knew that teenagers leaving the orphanage system could be at risk of the same.

We went to Moldova not knowing anyone, without much money and when, just before leaving, we did meet someone who had connections there, he just laughed and laughed at our lack of plans; that was until he became concerned about our safety. He thought we were totally mad – he was probably right!

* real name has been changed