The instant I step outside the safety of the hotel lobby, heat hits me, full force. I turn the corner to begin the walk to Walking Street, and my eyes meet the eyes of a woman, barely clothed, sitting outside of a bar. Her job is to advertise what is offered inside. I smile at her; a genuine smile, because my Father has told me that my smile can point people towards Him.
I then look towards the street I’m walking on, broken and dirty, and plan where I’ll put my feet to avoid stepping in mud or trash.
I smell car exhaust as jeepneys and trikes pass me. The black fumes fill the streets. By the end of the night, I’ll have a headache because of it.
I make eye contact with men sitting in the outside bars, a drink in hand, and do my best to smile. Everything in me wants to yell at them, to tell them what they are doing to the precious women I’ll meet that night, but I know it isn’t my place. If Christ loves them, I should too.
I’m halfway to Walking Street now. With my hand on my purse to avoid pick pocketers, I move through crowds, attempting to be viewed as a local instead of an especially out of place foreign girl.
A child no older than two grabs my hand and looks me in the eyes, begging for food. He stands right in front of me and a hesitate for a second, looking at his dirty, torn clothes and stained face. He’s two years old and hopelessness swims in his eyes. It hurts my heart to tell him I can’t give him anything.
I walk on, passing more and more men the closer I get to the reason they are in the Philippines. I watch their eyes slide down my body, and I want to cover myself completely, despite my already appropriate clothing. I remind myself that what they do is wrong but who they are is not.
Finally I’ve made it to Walking Street. To the place where 15,000 girls are sex-trafficked to feed their families. The place where there is more hopelessness than happiness in the women and the men. The place where I’ll go into just a few of the 240+ bars and offer these precious girls freedom and hope and a God that clothes them instead of what they are used to.
