Surely to inhabit a Body that you do not own is the greatest torture a human can be subjected to. The history of slavery that is interlaced with the history of any civilization is at once appalling and, to me, incomprehensible. Imagine the feeling of possessing a mind and soul trapped inside a physical encasing that you at once despise, feel disgusted by, and view as the instrument of all of your suffering. Imagine the feeling of hating the color of the very skin that envelops you and holds together your vitals, giving you life. Imagine the torture of the mind that is trapped by a body that is used and sold as an inanimate object.
What bothers me about the history of the girls at AFESIP has nothing to do with the fact that they were once prostitutes. I’ve seen prostitutes many times before, and they have failed to evoke my sympathy and compassion in the way that these girls have. It is one thing to sell your body to pay for your next fix. It is another thing to sell your body because you are hungry. But it is something altogether different when someone else sells your body for you.
I once took a Graphic Novel class in which we read a Book entitled Waltz With Bashir, about the atrocities of the 1982 war in Lebanon. One of the most memorable panels of the book was of dead or injured horses splattered lifeless or suffering across a field after a battle. The book was filled with pages and pages of human suffering; blood; war; panic. The last two panels were real pictures of people taken during the war, crying and pleading, desperation glimmering in their eyes. Yet the most heartbreaking panel of the entire book was still that of the horses. Why?
We discussed the issue a little in class. Some suggested that we are desensitized because of the likes of Red Cross commercials on television. We are overexposed to human suffering. Others said it was because we don’t know these people personally, so they become statistics, numbers.
I think a big part of it is the underlying idea that when a human suffers, they are in some way responsible for it. The panel of horses was especially heartbreaking because horses don’t have religion, they don’t have war, there was no reason for them to die or to suffer. The most aggravating and distressing aspect of the panel was the acute knowledge that the horses did not do this to each other, it was done to them.
This is how I feel about the amazing girls I had the chance to meet this summer. I am not upset because they were prostitutes, but because someone gave themself the divine right to govern over a body that they do not possess, and to use it for their own profit or pleasure. I know that for a period of their lives, these girls, my girls, felt less than human. If I could meet the people who partake in this industry, I can’t imagine the creative ways I would come up with to inflict more and more physical pain upon them. But nothing physical could ever equate the pain of the guilt that I wish they could feel. Unfortunately, no one can impose this upon them.
What we can do is help victims re-appropriate the bodies they were dispossessed of. Thank goodness that organizations like AFESIP exist. I am so grateful that they have allowed us to help these girls in the long process of healing. The entire experience has allowed me to gain not only insight into the pain and strength of others, but also to gain a profound new respect for my own body and how I treat it. I came here to help others, but in the process they have also helped me.
