I have to admit I have been rather hesitant to post these pictures and write a blog about our location for the month of January. Finding the right words to not paint the picture of this being some elaborate vacation is difficult at times. I understand the power of pictures and that many people may look upon the beauty of this location and say, “He raised support money to go there? Looks more like a vacation to me.” But there is so much more going on here and I pray you will read these words with an open heart.
Maybe the ultimate tragedy of these circumstances however, is not found in the tourists that come and perform these awful acts, or the victims, but in the tourists who vacation and do not even acknowledge the hurt. They are simply here to vacation, so they wear blinders. The truth is they disguise the fact that they do not care by simply not paying attention. If someone presented them with the facts about things that happen here they would probably answer, “I never knew.” It’s a real catastrophe that people are morally capable of being apathetic about something right in front of their face. I am not saying everyone who visits this Island or other locations as such should drop everything they are doing and begin working to prevent sex trafficking or that they should even search out problems in the area they are in, but what does it say about the state of your heart if you don’t even acknowledge it? My heart hurts worse for these people than the poor families forced into circumstances that challenge their survival. It would seem as though the deceived heart is a far greater tragedy than any circumstantial hardships.
What has developed from this “couldn’t care less” plague of tourists is a hustle to draw on their wealth in whatever way possible for the time they are here. The lack of compassion demonstrated by these visitors has surfaced itself in what is by nature a vibrant and extremely friendly culture, instilling a “get what you can, they don’t care mentality.” Walls have developed in the hearts of the ladies and vendors along the beach and make it extremely difficult to engage in conversation of depth without the underlying tone of, “what can I sell him?”
I have enjoyed my time with the ladies on the beach and I believe through our conversations we have broken through, at least partially, those walls and become more than just another customer. They have taught me and my fellow brother Sean how to make bracelets and speak some basic Tagalog. We have joked around, as their English is very good, and simply spent hours enjoying each other’s company under the comfort of the coconut trees. Today I found out from another racer one of the ladies named Julie has been waiting the last 2 days for me to come by so she can give me a gift. Several of the other ladies have already given me gifts as well, but I will expand more on my time with these beautiful ladies in a future blog. I would like to end this blog with a poem I wrote in my journal about this Island and a few pictures.
Upon This Sand
Waves hit the shore
Some upon sand,
with a resounding roar.
A majestic ocean blue
If one could envision this scene
To set foot upon this sand.
Rolling hills
Overlook
Yet something is hidden
Ravages the land.
Hides blood upon this sand.
Crash upon this sand
Boats also clash,
Known as the white man.
Detestable acts take place
Upon the face
there is brokenness
To signify the season
The pain upon this sand.
Taking advantage of the developing world
Justice and mercy
Hope sets foot upon this sand.
Jesus please convict the heart
Not rules to abide
From the hands of a tyrant vulture.
Oh Lord
