From prostitution to pepper

The former sex workers are taught skills such as sewing at the Daughters of Cambodia workwhop in Phnom Penh. (COURTESY DAUGHTERS OF CAMBODIA)

These small ornaments in the gift shop tell story in two words.

The Daughters of Cambodia now hosts about 55 girls and 15 boys.

Dec. 30, 2010
BY TOM GORDON
THE ORANGE COUNTY REGISTER (California, USA)

EDITOR'S NOTE: Tom Gordon, an editor at The Register, is starting a nonprofit that will sell Cambodian pepper in the United States. The money raised will help a group that works to help retrain former sex workers in Cambodia This is the last of a three-part story.

I'm writing about pepper and Cambodia for several reasons, but to start off I'll share two:

TEE'S STORY: At 15, Tee left her province in rural Cambodia to find a job in Phnom Penh. For four years she worked as a waitress. When the restaurant closed, she went to work as a karaoke girl. She was sold to a brothel by a friend. The friend took the payment and Tee was forced to work it off.

If she complained, she was beaten. If she refused to have sex with the brothel owners, she was beaten. She was forced to stand on the street to attract customers. If she didn't lure enough customers, she was beaten. She finally ran away when the brothel owners were sleeping. But carrying the stigma of having been a sex worker made finding a new job all but impossible, and she ended up back in a karaoke bar.

PERL'S STORY: Perl has no education, but she does have eight siblings. She came to Phnom Penh to help earn money to support a sick father and a disabled sister. Perl got a job in a garment factory but the demands for money continued. She started work in a karaoke bar. Her family wanted more money. Her next step was prostitution.

She serviced men at night and slept during the day. Customers forced her to drink with them. They often cheated her out of money by refusing to pay after sex. Perl was forced into a room with many men and gang raped.

DAUGHTERS OF CAMBODIA

When my wife Cris and I decided to import pepper from Cambodia into the U.S. we had two basic goals: to provide a market for some hard-working farmers and help a deserving charity in one of the poorest nations in the world.

We aren't in it for money; there a lot more effective ways to make money than selling pepper from Kampot, Cambodia.

But we had heard about Daughters of Cambodia on a previous visit. Simply, Daughters takes in former sex workers and teaches them a trade.

The nonprofit organization now has about 55 girls and 15 boys learning to sew, make jewelry and wait tables.

There's a Daughters of Cambodia gift shop and café in Phnom Penh just down the street from the National Museum. Daughters also runs a three-story workshop deep in the alleys of one of Phnom Penh's numerous brothel districts.

Who better to make the packaging for our pepper?

Ruth Elliott is an earnest English lady. She's a psychologist. She has lived in Phnom Penh for seven years, is married to a Cambodian man and has four kids. She started Daughters of Cambodia four years ago.

"I felt God put it in my heart," she says of the organization. "I felt Cambodia needed more help than just about any other place."

Ruth provided a little insight into the Cambodian sex trade:

• An estimated 40 percent of the sex workers are HIV positive.
• The customers break down something like this: 49 percent Cambodian, 42 percent from other Asian nations; 9 percent Westerners.
• Often, the families sell the girls into the sex trade. The causes include broken families, domestic violence, materialism -- the families want a new TV or motorbike -- and alcoholism. "Ninety percent of the girls who are sold are sold by their families," Ruth says.
• The girls typically take a pay cut when they leave the sex trade for Daughters. They likely were earning about $100 a month as a prostitute; they get paid $75-$80 a month at Daughters.

It's impossible to imagine selling a child into a brutal sex business. But it's also hard to imagine the poverty of rural Cambodia.

The young women enter the Daughter's program voluntarily but they bring a lot of baggage: alcoholism, no self esteem, depression, victims of domestic abuse.

Recently, Daughters has taken in ladyboys – young transvestites who work the sex trade. Says Ruth: "They are more despised (in Cambodian society) than the girls. They can only come out after midnight because you have people in the streets screaming things at them. We just give work and a purpose. Some want to become boys again and we try to help them."

BACK ALLEYS OF PHNOM PENH

I got a tour of the workshop.

After a winding tuk tuk ride through the alleys of Phnonm Penh we came to a big iron gate.

There are two rules: No photography and men must be accompanied by someone from the organization all times.

The rooms are filled with sewing machines, tables for assembling jewelry and rooms with groups of girls crocheting. Kids were napping on mats in the day-care center. A nurse visits once a week.

It was strangely quiet when I entered the sewing room. The 30 sewing machines were still. But out on the balcony -- where it was a little cooler -- 15 giggling young women were gathered, putting the finishing touches on the pouches we had ordered to hold the pepper.

The traditional Cambodian material had been purchased at a local market. It's a sturdy, checked cloth that local people use as a scarf, a bandana and to carry babies. It's worn by both men and women. You might recall photos of the Cambodian butcher Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge soldiers wearing red and white kramas.

I stuffed 160 pepper pouches into my suitcase along with 30 pounds of pepper.

It was time to go home.

TEE TODAY: She works as a cook at the Daughters of Cambodia café. She is single and lives with her 6-year-old daughter in a rented house. She takes part in child-care and domestic-violence workshops. She boasts that she is one of the fastest cooks at the café.

PERL TODAY: She's learning English so she can better communicate with foreign customers at the Daughters shop. She's a cashier and a management trainee. The increased responsibility means a higher salary. She has regular counseling and has become a Christian.

"In the past people always looked down on me," Perl says. "I now have hope."

Contact the writer: tgordon@ocregister.com or 714-704-3789