An uneven, broken concrete boardwalk. On one side is a white beach and dark ocean, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning. On the other side is a brightly lit medley of bars, restaurants, and tattoo shops. The night is full of the music blaring from bars, tourists chatting with locals, and roaming vendors peddling their wares. Then, at exactly 8:30 pm, the atmosphere changes. The music switches beats as fire dancers begin to line the beach. They light up the sky with spinning fans of fire and flying fire balls.
Then the fires start to go out. The beach becomes dark again. The sidewalks outside the bars begin to clear, the tables outside of the bars fill with tourists, and popular tunes start to blare from each bar.
That’s when the shows start.
The sidewalks up and down the boardwalk fill with slim figures in mini dresses, short skirts, ripped tights, and impossibly high heels. At first glance they appear to be women, but these are the ‘girlyboys’ of the Philippines.
I’ve never met people like these men before, but as we walk the boardwalk before the shows I met several different troupes. We talked with them as they prepared for their shows, chatting about makeup, accessories, and costumes. Known as girlyboys, these men and boys believe they are women. They prefer ‘she’ to ‘he’. Some were raised this way, because their parents were trying to punish them for being too ‘girly’ when they were young. Others chose the lifestyle. Either way, Philippine society ignores, looks down upon, and shuns them in daily life.
We met four girlyboys at one of the bars. After hanging out with them as they got ready, we promised to stay for their show.
One of the songs performed was Jessie J’s “Price Tag”. As I watched ‘Pink’ sing “It’s not about the money money money, we don’t need your money money money… forget about the price tag”, I wondered how many of these girlyboys performing up and down the boardwalk had an invisible price tag over their heads. A price for the night.
As they dance among the tourists and displayed themselves on the stage, I wondered how much of the performance was for the show and how much was an advertisement for further ‘entertainment’.
My questions weren’t just idle speculation.
Though the beach we were on is called White Beach, there is a whole section just beyond the boardwalk that our ministry host refers to as a ‘dark place’. For the right price, girlyboys take men into this darkness for the night.
I’ve never been faced with questions like that. It’s beyond the reality of my experience. But I realized that the smile on my face, the happiness in my heart, was genuine as I introduced myself to these men, watched them do makeup, and sang along to their performances. I realized I saw them as a creation of God, valuable beyond measure to their Creator.
As I sit here writing this, I know I’ll go back to walk that same boardwalk as many times as I can. I don’t know the words to say to them. I’ve never lived their lives nor experienced anything close. But I know their Creator, and He lives in me. I don’t have the answers, but if I keep seeing them through His eyes and interacting with them through His love it will all be fine.
Please pray for my ministry to them. Please pray for guidance, understanding, and wisdom on how to interact and what to say.
Love from the Philippines,
Kristin
