Picking up Colorful Pens Instead of Sexy Panties in Thailand and Elsewhere

Exactly two years ago (April 2017), I saw an "International Liaison position" posted by FreedomStory.org on idealist.org a website where I check out jobs. After devouring FreedomStory.org stories for 1,5 hrs, I wrote to the generic email address and introduced myself, although I ended up not applying for the position. I signed up for their newsletter because as a practitioner of women’s life writing for years, I couldn’t help but wonder about the founding mothers and sisters behind the scenes and other stories. At the era of social media, I can’t decide how or whether people in charge at NGOs will respond to my eagerness to listen to their stories face to face. I received a reply and was invited to the office. With her glowing energy and transparency, Rachel Goble was very welcoming (so was her dog!)

I can’t think of a better time to embrace the phenomenon of ethical storytelling that Rachel gave birth to. I repress my awkward urge to thank Trump for the intensive trouble that he has been causing with his ‘stories’, inspiring me and others to challenge the current climate of ignorance or indifference more than ever. “The fake news,” an easy accusatory label, calls for an inquiry of “ethical storytelling”. Below are my favorite lines from http://ethicalstorytelling.com but please visit the website to read it in its entirety:

*Great stories not only inspire but educate.

*People’s stories are more than emotion-generating machines.

*Stories are not just for donors or for branding, they shape our humanity and our world.

Girl-children of Thailand, especially in certain parts of the country, remain vulnerable to slave-like living, which ranges from sex-slavery to sweatshop and fishing vessel work. The Freedom Story NGO responds to this reality by providing scholarships to children and help their families so that they are not lured into the sex-trade. Mentorship and sustainability of the prevention model that Freedom Story has appropriated since 2007 are the main reasons which caught my attention in the first place. Admiration followed.

When the founder Rachel Goble learned about child sexual exploitation in Thailand, she made a documentary The Sold Project, which involved interviewing sex workers, exposing its causes: poverty, lack of education and options. Rachel responded by providing a scholarship to an at-risk student Cat, and The Freedom Story was born. While the content and Cat’s story remain very moving, I highly recommend to pay close attention to the producer’s sensitivity on keeping Cat’s voice in the foreground and sticking to the pledge of ethical story telling (http://ethicalstorytelling.com/pledge/)

The Freedom Story’s model is exemplary and has the potential to be applied in other regions of the world. One advantage the team seemed to have the support of the locals and the safety of the work environment in Thailand. This may not be true in some areas of the Middle East (I have Syria, Turkey and Cyprus in mind due to my background)and will thus pose different challenges. Nevertheless, the core of the project lies in the prevention, which -I want to assume- renders relative safety and support in most parts of the globe.

Rachel is enthusiastic about her work and willing to share her experiences in the US and worldwide. I wouldn’t hesitate to spread the word on the Freedom Story to wherever I travel, especially after meeting her in person and witnessing the combination of story-telling and humanitarian work in a mindful and ethical way. Thank you to the whole team, each and every one for the transformative/life-changing work that you do!

A series of stunning serendipities define my life so far; thus, meeting Rachel Goble and the timing of Ethical Storytelling webinar came as no surprise as I was transforming my interviews with Syrian women refugees into stories for a book of life writing. I was more than grateful about it.

Pleasantly United by 'Things' That are in+on Me / A Call for Second-Hand/Recycled Consumption

Somewhere in Northern Europe, the colorful and warm café sharply contrasts with the gray and sulky sky. By the time I laid down the bright orange cloth bag (printed in white ‘WISC, Santa Fe, NM’) and took out Alberto Manguel’s book Five Cities in Turkey, purchased in Istanbul, the source of my life-generator dawned on me and begged me to be written. I could visualize the essay about the things that I carry with me and on me w/out ever intending to possess them. Why bother owning? I took off my long claret winter coat with a hood, which found me in a second hand shop in Athens last Christmas. My sailor beret has the same color but it winked at me in Amsterdam at a shop called klein berlijn (small Berlin!)

By the time, my latte arrived, I was having a ball with the list and how much it tells about myself. My reading glasses are newish with a purplish frame, the bright tone that I used to envy on my favorite female professor’s eyes 20+ years ago. Oya Başak would take them out of her purse and scream: “Mickey Mouse glasses!” My decorative bookmark was sent by an Australian nun from Holy Meteora, near the town of Kalambaka in Greece. After meeting her at a monastery where she spent decades on the path of Jesus, I wrote her a letter, and gave my temporary address in Victoria University, Canada. She told me that the only way to communicate was letter-writing. In my dark rectangular mail box, her light brown envelope sat next to another one of the same size which was shipped from Bodrum, Turkey. The signed book arrived also from the Aegean coast, only the other side. They looked pretty darn close to each other on the map from Canada.

I take a sip and continue with further inventory of my things: My t-shirt is from Berkeley. It’s bright yellow, printed on the front is a big smiley with a baseball cap, exposing the location: California, Berkeley in black letters. I wear it to feel its energy. I slept in it last night but who can know or would care about it in this café? My sweater is from Salvation Army in Victoria, my navy-skinny jeans were dirt cheap too, purchased from the same street but in a different store. My only accessories are a watch and pendant. I have no idea from where I originally purchased the watch, but the straps are relatively new so I remember. I got them in San Francisco on the Pride Day of 2017, June 26^th to be specific! I reluctantly agreed on the beige color because the store lacked the navy-blue, but I got used to them. I wonder what my friend is doing right now but I am pretty sure that she is in SF.

My pendant is enchanted as its maker assured me: Flora picked the nut-size ornamental pomegranate from Northern Cyprus and transformed it into a pendant for me as a gift. Crossing paths with her in Istanbul was magical since she is a nomad herself with no strings attached. Thus, on my neck, I carry a real pomegranate whose value is to me more than any diamond can have. Diamonds don’t feature in holy books or fairy tales unlike pomegranates.  My baby-pomegranate has no polish or other human intervention. This spiritual daughter of mine knows me well. People can’t figure her out, they try to tone down her enthusiasm and dreams. Are they unconsciously bothered by even hearing them? Ignore them Flora, dream big; true, you’re bound to be minority on this planet but you’re stronger inside and you might as well enjoy it. You’re young and a magnet for miracles, again, too much for laypeople. Missing one’s potential must be painful to face in your presence so ‘you go girl,’ most whispers (behind) or warnings deserve to be overlooked. Thanks for sharing my passion for used clothes and caring about the planet. I hope we collaborate more in future and make this a better world.