I am but a Pawn

One of the brothels of the convicted

I know it’s been over a week since the convictions of five notorious traffickers in Kolkata but I’m writing about it because a) I owe you an explanation and b) I’m still amped on them.

I had been prepping for these convictions since December 2012. I read all the reports on every hearing, on every girl, and on every related incident that happened since 2009. (See my blog post about it here). Despite this, we were a week away and I still felt grossly unprepared. I had one media contact and my press release hadn’t even been looked at by the higher ups. Things were moving at a microscopic speed, which is typical for South Asia. Then March 11^th hit, and all of a sudden, I was making contacts, calling journalists, introducing myself, making day dates, and becoming instant friends with anyone who had a byline. Everything just fell into place. My contacts went from one to 20 almost over night. MIRACLE 1.

And if that wasn’t enough to bring me to my knees in adoration to the God of Glory, He went further and brought me extremely interested and sensitive journalists who wanted to do full page spreads.

Then, the day of the sentencing came. All five convicted received ten years of imprisonment and all the victims received compensation. Now for an American mindset it is easy to think... ok great, that’s actually not a lot. But here is context for why this was SUCH a BIG deal:

NEVER before has this court convicted a brothel owner. In one day the judge convicted TWO separate brothel owners. Never before has this court seen victims testify against their accused. In one day all 11 victims (who identified their abusers in person) were awarded a virtual fortune (around $4,000). The judge literally bypassed the State, which never happens, and gave ALL the fines to ALL the girls. What?!!??? In one day all five convicted were given ten years of RIGOROUS imprisonment, which was well past their minimums. … in case you aren’t catching my drift, these sentences were truly and honestly a miracle.) MIRACLE 2.

After the announcement I stopped, allowed a couple tears to roll down my eyes; and then I started running, updating our press release, trying to contact HQ, answering emails, being the distributor of info, while simultaneously pitching my ‘friends’ in the media to tell them about this amazing miracle. I was nonstop for about three days. Well, of course I made numerous mistakes and probably did everything wrong.

Still the next day three top publications in my country not only published the story almost verbatim to how I told it, but they included pictures! Then Yahoo News picked it up and boom, we were sailing.  Then two major local Bengali papers picked it up, which is key because that’s what the average person in my city reads, and pretty soon my city was aware of the fact that notorious and powerful traffickers were paying for their crimes. MIRACLE 3. And hopefully the thought which crossed their minds were, ‘if it happened to them, it could happen to me,” because that is the reason why I do all that I do.

But here is the point of my story. This was an incident in my life which literally only happened because God himself came down and inserted miracles at every step.

So naturally, in my fallen state, I came to work on Monday beaming, prideful, and boastful. While, in contrast, my Director of Legal (the man who argued this case since 2009, the man who is The Man,) walked in with his head hanging low.

He walked up to the podium to give his devotion, and with tears in his eyes he preached to us about humility, about how God is the victor. He explained that he wanted to give up, but God made these convictions possible. And you know what, He truly meant every word.

All of a sudden tears were in my eyes as well. And I suddenly realized why I was the intern and he was my director. I have so much more to learn. I am so far away from getting it. But that is why I choose IJM because I want to surround myself with people like Sap da. Maybe one day God will grant me the wisdom to bow before his throne and acknowledge the fact that His rule and His reign is EVERYTHING and I am but a pawn.

So let us celebrate all that GOD DID! Please see the list below of a couple articles written about the convictions. Praise be to God because I am unworthy of his miracles.

The Times of India (2013.03.17) – Five traffickers get 10 years in jail

“Those engaged in the fight against trafficking have reason to be happy. A Haldia fast-track court, on Saturday, sentenced five persons to 10 years rigorous imprisonment in two separate cases for trafficking-related offences and one instance rape. Judge Somnath Chakrabarti passed the sentences on the five convicts in the afternoon...‘This is a momentous occasion for all those who have contributed to the work of justice here in Kolkata. These convictions augment the already growing desire for criminal accountability. Potential traffickers must know they will be caught and convicted,’ said Biju Mathew, field office director of IJM, lauded the judgment.”

(Also reprinted in Silobreaker.com)

The Telegraph (2013.03.17) – Milestone in trafficker fight

“Their heads hanging low, five men in their late thirties and forties convicted for trafficking were paraded into Haldia Fast-Track Court-II and herded into a grilled enclosure. Biju Mathew, director of International Justice Mission, Calcutta, which helped in the rescue operation and offered legal and mental support to the witnesses, said: ‘Convicting traffickers and brothel owners and sentencing them to 10 years' rigorous imprisonment is rare, especially in the Haldia area. But the real victory is the story behind the convictions. Those involved in the case were competent and well-equipped. The court demonstrated sensitivity to trafficking victims. It is for this reason that justice prevailed in the court today. We hope these cases will set a precedent for all of India.’”

(Also reprinted in YAHOO News India, Rediff. Real Times News, Rupee Rains News, Samachar.com, Silobreaker.com)

The Bengal Post (2013.03.17) - 5 Haldia traffickers get 10 years imprisonment

“Haldia subdivisional court on Saturday pronounced 10 years imprisonment to five accused convicted for trafficking and forcing women into prostitution.”

Christianity Today showcased the conviction of Nakul Bera and others from Kolkata on their website AND it’s featured on their homepage.

The Pykes in India

As some of you may know my family visited me last month. Yes, I mean they flew all around the world to spend a week with me in South Asia! It was the fab five: Bryn, Robbie, Auntie Suzy, Mom and I hitting up the streets of India and Nepal. We spent a weekend in my city and then went to Delhi, Agra and Jaipur, and then flew up to Kathmandu, over Mount Everest J, and back again to my city.

Now I couldn’t possible write down everything we did and you wouldn’t want to hear it; so I’ve highlighted a couple of the best moments for you.

First day in South Asia: 

The first day of the trip started off strong. Bryn and Robbie were awake and perky as I sloshed around the apartment trying to figure out why I was having hallucinations of my Californian sister in my very Asian apartment. I also may have attacked my brother just to make sure he was real. But once I came to my senses we were on our way to the IJM office.

I hadn’t anticipated everyone to be awake, since my first couple days in the country were such a blur that my boss must have had serious doubts about his decision to hire me. Needless to say, I had nothing planned for them. It was an understatedly hectic time for me in the office and I my mind was far from the role of entertainer. So I literally stuck my family in a taxi with barely any money, a precariously working phone, on their first day in India, crossed my fingers and prayed I would see them again. However, God is Good and at the end of my workday I found them just chilling out under a major freeway (where all the cranky old men sit) examining Bryn’s hena tattoo.

My mother and Aunt Suzy were giggling about how they each hadn’t had a warm shower since the trip started and everyone bragged about successfully ordering street cha. #worldtravelers. So naturally I smiled to myself, and silently commissioned my city to unleash the India within itself and to do so in full force. And like always, my city never disappoints.

Now that my vacation had officially begun I again squeezed us all into a taxi and headed to the “holy river” for a spontaneous surprise. We were going to bribe a boat to take us out onto the disease-infested water and breathe in all the toxic fumes from the city! (OK so it’s a tad more pleasant than that.)

So we were rowing out onto the river and my mother had her head on my brother’s shoulder, because (almost) all her babies were together at last… which we all know is a mother’s true joy in life. All was right with the world as we gently rocked back and forth looking at a nearby bridge romantically light up in fluorescent and incompatible colors. And then suddenly, I heard a scream. Actually it was more of a death squeal and my mother leaped into the air, almost diving into the Hooghly (which would have been hilariously dangerous) and landed onto the platform near Bryn’s lap. Robbie immediately tried to help my mom stabilize; my sister grabbed all the electronics in case the boat tipped. Suzy reached out to sooth mom, and I tried to hold back my laughter, because right where my mom was sitting was a medium sized cockroach scurrying across the board.

Amar Barot Bhalo!  (My India is Great!)

Hanging with our Girls: 

The next day was a probably my favorite of the entire trip because my family saw firsthand why I live half way across the world. 

I had arranged for us to sponsor a dinner at one of the aftercare homes. Every other week my local church goes to the home, plays games, sings songs and gives a little message. That week my pastor asked me to host it.

So I turned to my older brother and asked if he wanted to speak words of encouragement into the girl’s lives. He stopped, looked at me and said, “who me?” “Of course, Robbie.” There are only a few things that would have made me happier than for my older brother to speak God’s truth to my girls.

That night we showed up at the home and everyone shifted with anticipation. Would the girls interact with them? Would they be able to communicate? Would my family understand? Would God’s grace and love shine through us?

I opened the door.

“Kristy Auntie!” “Nomeshkar!” Some of the girls were waiting for us.

They reached out to give me a hug.

Then all God’s miracles and blessings flooded into my life, as I was able to point back to the individuals who shaped the very foundation of who I am, and say, “This is my family. They are very excited to meet you!”

From there the nerves were gone.

Twenty girls bombarded them: holding their hands, laughing, playing with their hair, teaching them to properly eat Indian food, twirling, dancing, and loving.

And if I thought I couldn’t be any happier, my brother then got up and walked to the front of the room. He stood in front of the demographic of people I have dedicated my life to love and serve, and shared Jesus with them. He talked about the words Come Follow Me. Rabi’s would choose the best of the best to be their one prodigy, their only anointed. But Jesus walked straight up to the lowest of those. The disciples had flunked out. They were poor. They didn’t work the hardest or have really anything going for them. But Jesus said those same words of, Come Follow Me. He anointed the least of us to make the biggest difference. Tears filled my eyes because we all understand rejection to some degree. But none know it like the girls who live in an aftercare home because their own father and mother valued a couple rupees more than the sanctity and future of their own daughter.  Yet Jesus says to them, Come Follow Me.

It was then my girls turn. They got up, and as a special gift to me, danced in front of my family the routine I helped teach them.

I remember sitting in the back, crossing arms with one of my special friends in the home, looking at the backs of my family sitting in the front row. And I knew I crossed the threshold of no return. I don’t know what my future holds, or in what capacity I will serve. But if this isn’t what a calling from the Lord feels like, then I have a totally wrong picture of God. 

Tourists Extraordinaire:

The rest of the trip was pretty typical: flying to Delhi, seeing the Taj Mahal, driving all night on a bumpy, jerky road to Jaipurr, waking up in the pink city. We rode elephants through thousand year old streets, walked to the most spectacular and ingenuously designed 16^th century palace.  We got lost in a very typically Indian and sketchy back alleyway, bought out almost every vendor we stopped at, and barely slept at all.

After three days we hopped on another plane and landed in Kathmandu.

This is where I want to pause. While Nepal wasn’t exactly what we thought it was, the Pastor we stayed with was so much more. For a family who both laughs and cringes at every Jesus Joke/God Card, this Nepalese Pastor was God’s practical prank on the Pyke family.

“Pastor Bryn!” Pastor Robby would say. “Are you also a diplomat?”

“Ummm no,” Bryn would respond. “Wrong! You are an ambassador for Christ!”

“Pastor Suzy!” Pastor Robby would say. “Does truth set you free?”

“Yes it does,” Suzy would say. “WRONG! The application of truth sets you free!”

“Pastor Robbie!” Pastor Robby would say. “We shall in the back of the car because Jesus came to serve his flock.

O so many good moments with Pastor Robby.

Home Again: 

But alas, our time had come and the trip was at an end. Tears crept in early on several occasions due to our pathetic attempt of holding them for the true end.

We were flying back to my city, spending a couple hours there and then the group was again on a plane to the States.

I had called my office to book a car that would pick us up from the airport. I explained that there were five of us and we would need the car for the whole night… easy enough.

We got out of the airport and the car wasn't there. After a couple minutes a car did roll up but it was small. I mean really small, as in there was no way we could have fit all of us let alone all of our luggage. So I started battling it out with the driver. I told him to get a bigger car to us and fast. He looked confused. "I'm sorry ma'am, you don't like this car?." I smiled and softly explained that it wasn't personal. He looked relieved. 

Finally another car came. It had three seats. But we were loosing time, so I put Bryn and Robbie in one car and told the driver to not ever, for one-second loose sight of my car, which he was probably too terrified to do for fear of the crazy, white lady. Miracle of all miracles, we all made it safely back to my apartment. 

#OII: Good to be back. 

Saying Goodbye: 

A couple hours later I took them back to the airport and we said goodbye. 

The more I look at the photos and the more I reflect on my time traveling India with my family, the more I realize just how incredibly blessed I am. We are more than a support group; we are friends.

I love you Bryn for being such a leader and keeping records and organizing all the logistics. I love you Robbie for being the most compassionate man I have ever met. Your very presence brings harmony and peace to even the tensest situations. I love you mom for your unconditional love. Even when I’m stressed or being a typical daughter, your love is constant and your forgiveness is immediate. I love you Suzy for living your life with such joy, because you make everything more fun! And lastly, I love you Daddy for being gracious enough to support us all on this trip and sacrificing more than I could ever know to provide me the opportunities I've always enjoyed.