The day began by waking up at 5:30 in a kitchen. We were given one bedroom for the eleven of us to sleep in, so I chose to sleep in the kitchen with fewer people. The sun was rising and we got in the van to drive into the mountains to see the Mangyan people- an indigenous tribe living on the island of Mindoro. The Mangyan people are treated as Untouchables; less than society. We played with 40 or so kids and they sang us a song about having nothing but knowing how to respect people, whereas the rest of the world has plenty but no respect.
We blew bubbles with the kids and fed them a meal- possibly the only meal they would get for the day.
A few of the racers met a man who let them ride his Water Buffalo, which was entertaining.
After the feeding, we drove a few hours back to our house and ate Ramen for lunch, and left in a boat to go to a smaller, private island.
Once on the island, we met a family who asked continually for our pictures. When a racer would say yes, they would put their child in our arms to pose for the photo.
A group of drunk men who spoke no English wandered up to our group and one attempted a conversation with me. “You… heart… me… best friend.” Eventually our host had to tell them to leave.
After a few hours on the island, we got back into the boat and went home. Everyone changed clothes and tried to scrub the oil from the boat off of our feet, and left around 5 to get dinner.
Our ministry hosts took us to a burger restaurant that tasted like American burgers, and that was a big deal for us. The burgers had cheese- my favorite part. (Filipinos seem to not like cheese.)
We got to the docks around 7:45 and walked around for a bit before loading at 9. Once on the boat, I tried to get comfortable enough to sleep, but the metal bleachers didn’t allow for comfort or space. I began watching a movie, and the woman sitting to my left watched over my shoulder, despite the fact I had headphones on and she couldn’t hear it.
After the boat left the port, a man began preaching to everyone about why we need to accept Jesus into our hearts. A few minutes later, he walked over to us and began a conversation about why we were here and what we were doing. He was part of a group of Filipino missionaries and was excited to learn we are “Born-Agains” as well.
The Filipino missionaries began worship on the boat, despite the fact it was 11PM and everyone was trying to sleep.
After the impromptu worship session, I began watching my movie again, until a man stared at me until I took my headphones off and started a conversation with me.
We got to the port at nearly midnight, and after being very aggressively yelled at by a man with a megaphone, we loaded back into our van. By this point, nobody had slept more than a few minutes, and we’ve been out of the house since 6. We were tired, hot, and ready to go to bed.
Everyone fell asleep on the 2 hour car ride to our hosts home, despite not being able to put our feet on the floor due to backpacks. We slept in the air conditioned bedroom full of bunk beds, and when I woke up at 9:30 the next morning, (the latest I’ve slept in on the race) I didn’t know where I was, what time it was, or why I was cold instead of sweating.
I now write this a few hours later, while going on my third hour of free wifi. (Wifi is never free here.) the World Race is just weird. We meet strange people, go strange places, and do strange things. Half the time, I don’t know what’s going on. It’s a wild adventure, and despite sometimes getting minimal sleep, traveling in every mode of transportation possible, and being stared at by locals, I love it. I’m so thankful to be here experiencing life like this. Thank you, my wonderful supporters, for getting me here. I wouldn’t be here without you!
Here’s to 25 more days of strange adventure!
