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The second carriage was just black, dark, with a sign that asked you to close your eyes. It gave the sensation of movement, sitting inside a train carriage that was chugging along, transporting bodies. A soundtrack of a train’s wheels clicking over the tracks played loudly.
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Elena arrived in London Victoria and met a woman who turned out to be the person who she came to fear, who told her she owed her a ridiculous amount of money. She was given clothes to wear – high heels, little tiny dresses and thongs left behind by old workers. The third carriage showed face sized holes where you look in to see your face on a girl's body dressed in these little costumes.
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The next carriage was repulsive. Absolutely hold-your-breathe-repulsive. It was a bedroom scene with a tattered single mattress with the names of a thousand men who wrote “Ben was here. Jason was here. Ryan was here…” In one corner was a garbage pail, overflowing with used condoms and tissues. There were dingy lights. The room stank of stale cum and the rubber of used condoms. A dirty sink in the corner had a constant flow of water from the taps. The wallpaper was peeling. To get to the next carriage, you had to push your way through a flapping group of condoms strung together in long strands.
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The customers were next. There were giant photos of typical men you see on the street: the 22 year old kid playing football in the park, the large-bellied man running a convenience shop on the corner, the family man smiling with his kids. Her first customer was an Indian man who brought with him a carton of juice. He asked for a blowjob. She had never in her life seen a naked man. She had no less than 40 customers a day, 7 days a week. She made about £800-1,000 per day, of which she was allowed £10.
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Coincidently, I’m currently reading September’s issue of the New Internationalist which happens to be all about sex trafficking. 11% of men in the UK buy sex. There are an estimated 80,000 sex workers in Britain.
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Of all places, Elena was first employed for two weeks in a flat in Mayfair, one of the richest areas of London, rather than a seedier area of the city like Soho, where you almost expect that sort of thing.
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The next part of the tour was an art installation of what was no other than a big black hole that seems to draw you inside when you stand in a certain spot. That was to represent the stigma placed on the girls who have been victims of sex traffickers.
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Then we were led outside where we were handed a recorder to listen to, which was the voice of Elena telling her whole story. It was quite long, but very interesting as she added details that weren’t included in the exhibition. She was arrested with 100 other girls one day and locked up in a Charring Cross jail for two days for breaking visa laws. They never once asked if she was okay or how she got there. When she went home, she felt like a different person and couldn’t look her mother in the eye. Her mother was under the impression that she was doing well and would bring back money she saved for her family because her father had passed away and they were having trouble getting by.
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In the last carriage, the British laws of sex trafficking are written on the walls. Then you are led outside to a tent that is set up for questions and are asked to sign a petition.
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This was the last day of the exhibition, but for more information, seehttp://www.helenbamber.org/
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