Slaves To Free

I was quickly struck by how none of the girls truly seemed to look her age.

I recently started visiting a safe house, called a Foundation, where girls are sent once rescued from brothels here in Ecuador. Most of them are Ecuadorian, yet there are also girls from Columbia, Venezuela, and other South American countries. Ecuador has open borders which make it easier for girls to be smuggled in and trapped in brothels. They are sold by their impoverished families, tricked by men saying they can get them a decent job, or brain-washed by pimps who convince the girls they love them and just need to help them get by, for the sake of their love, by becoming a prostitute. Thankfully, the police have been working to expose these brothels, which are often disguised as ordinary motels, and free the girls.

To visit the Foundation, I traveled to South Quito with Desi, the founder of Casa Adalia. We walked along cracked sidewalks and past graffitied walls until we came to an ordinary door, like any other. Desi pushed the buzzer and answered, "Voluntarios (volunteers)", when asked who we were.
We were welcomed into an open-air cement courtyard. There were about twenty-five girls there, all talking or studying or working on projects. We sat in a wide circle on the cement and went around saying names and ages. The girls ranged from ages 12 to 17. Age 18 is the cut-off for government aid, which is why having Casa Adalia is so important: it's currently the only place which offers housing for girls 18 and older who can't return to their families or aren't ready to be on their own.

Some of the girls had a more guarded exterior, but for the most part they seem like normal teenagers. Reaching for my hands to see my nails which were painted by a girl who used to live there but is now in Casa A. Stroking my hair as we listened to the Bible study Desi prepared. Laughing as we play a silly game, and showing their creativity as we do a project involving making paper birds. Desi and the rest of the Casa Adalia team started visiting Foundations a couple of years ago, building relationships even while Casa A was still a dream, and continuing to do so after the home opened last December.

One of our Casa A girls, M., has been in Foundations for five years and has about a third-grade education. She is getting tutoring during the summer as we look into what kinds of classes she can take next semester. Another girl, T., will be joining the home soon along with her new baby. Each girl is a new, unique, beautiful challenge and privilege to love and teach and learn from. It's been humbling to spend weekends at Casa A and get to know the girls. Visiting the Foundation once a week with Desi and others has made me even more aware of the blessings I've taken for granted and the grace of God which is so abundant.

When we left, I kept thinking about how the girls seemed such a confusion of age verses maturity. All of them, whether age 12 or 17, seemed to me to fall somewhere around 15. They had this mix of confidence and awkwardness, of shyly wanting approval and acceptance and having a hard edge of self-preservation. Some of them seemed to innocently not know that their clothes were perhaps a bit provocative, and some seemed to act as though this was how they had to dress and be for anyone to pay them any attention at all.

Imagine a teenage or preteen girl you know: a little sister, or cousin, or daughter of a friend. Imagine that girl being sold or taken from her family and forced to do whatever men told her to do. Imagine her being told that she is property. A slave.

It's hard to realize that we live in a world where slavery is real and thriving. Where people think that they can buy and own other people. Yet we do. I am thankful that the awareness of this horrific truth is spreading, and that help and hope is rising. I am thankful for people like Desi, who is from Holland and had imagined herself working to stop trafficking and prostitution in the infamous red light district in Holland, before coming here and becoming aware of a need which most people didn't know existed. It's a hidden disease, found behind locked doors and websites. Knowing that Debbie - wife of Casa Gabriel director Phil - worked with boys at risk, Desi asked, "What about the girls?" Though the initial answer was, "Well, I don't know! We never see any," Desi and Debbie began to uncover the truth and were led to start Casa Adalia as a next-step for girls who have been rescued. I am so thankful for Casa A. I am thankful for the Foundations which rescue and help the girls for as long as they can. I am thankful that in such darkness, there is light and life. There is healing and redemption. "Adalia" is Hebrew for "God is my refuge". How true that is.


"For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." - Galatians 5:1