Before my team’s trip to Angeles City this month, I was convinced that nothing good could come from having expectations. They are the root of disappointment after all, and I wasn’t going to let something I had the ability to control put a damper on my race. It wasn’t until I was leaving the darkness of Walking Street behind in a van with seven girls sitting next to me whom had just gotten off of their shift at the bar earlier that morning and were on their way to tour Wipe Every Tear that I realized that sometimes God uses expectations to remind me of how immeasurably greater He is than anything I can imagine by blowing them out of the water.
While the van was making the three hour journey from Quezon City to Angeles City, Kenny Sacht, the founder of the organization, explained to my team how the process of going to the bars to find girls who want to abandon their lifestyle of prostitution and give them the hope/opportunity to do that by coming to Wipe Every Tear and receiving a free education works so that we could prepare ourselves for the two days ahead of us. I remember being so full of hope and joy that I was on my way to fix everything. How could I not be bursting at the seems with expectation by being a messenger of hope?
That feeling quickly dissipated, however, as soon as I stepped past the arches informing me that I was on Walking Street. (Yes, it’s literally called Walking Street. Surprising, I know, that the people who built luxurious, multi-storied bars for the sole purpose of selling women couldn’t come up with a more creative name.)
Kenny thought that it would be smart for us to walk down the street during the day when things weren’t in full swing so that we wouldn’t be so overwhelmed at night. In every direction I looked, beautiful Philippino women were holding hands with ancient older white men. My feelings quickly tipped towards being furious and disgusted at these men who were nonchalantly and confidently parading these women around as if they were part of a exciting tourist vacation package. As I walked, unable to process everthing my eyes were seeing, I passed a man selling these tshirts, and my jaw literally fell open.
In that moment, I stopped walking, closed my eyes, and pleaded with Jesus to allow me to love these men and bar owners who were just as trapped and lost as the women being exploited. I asked him to help me remember that love, not judgment, is what softens hearts and changes the world. And then I kept walking. It was strange to me that the closet I’ve come to seeing a whole street that had American-quality buildings evolved that way through funds brought in by prostitution. Some bars, like the Dollhouse, were 3 stories tall with giant statues and lights decorating the outside like a golden globe premiere.
I went back to Walking Street later that night on a mission. R (can’t use her real name), one of the Wipe Every Tear girls, was my partner that night to help me brave the language barrier. She was also there to show the girls working in the bar that we are a legitimate organization by telling her story about how God has changed her life through Wipe Every Tear. The first bar that R and I went into was called the Viking. Hightop tables filled the floor space in front of the stage while cushioned benches lined the walls. Almost all were filled with men with looks on their faces similar to a cat peering into a fish tank. On the stage three lines of girls stood shoulder to shoulder in bikinis and heels while shuffling back and forth. In the balcony above us, the girls rested between their turns on stage, most looking detached and disinterested in the auction going on around them. In the bars, the only way you can talk to a girl on stage is by pointing her out (in many bars, you do this with a laser pointer) and buying her a drink. She is allowed to talk to you until she finishes her drink. After gathering up the will to “pick a girl,” I got the waitress to tap a girl named Mia on the shoulder and call her over. When I asked her what she wanted to drink, she ordered a mango juice and sat down next to me with a big smile on her face. We talked for 30 minutes without stopping. She told me that she had been working in the bar for two months and was sending the money back to her family to help feed her brothers and sisters because her dad had been unable to work ever since he was diagnosed with cancer. She had one year left of high school. When I told her about Wipe Every Tear and invited her back with us to tour the facility the next morning, her eyes filled with tears.
That was just one story, one bar, and one girl out of the 12 hours we spent offering hope and love to the girls on Walking Street. I can’t explain how touching it was to see Wipe Every Tear girls, who have become my family, enthusiastically telling the bar girls about how they are going to school, live in really nice houses, have three big meals a day, etc. It’s impossible to even fathom that my friends, who are such natural disciples, once worked in the very bars they were attempting to free girls from. What an indescribably beautiful thing to see God’s redemptive love working full circle in the way it is designed.
First three pictures contributed by Kendra Harris. Final picture credited to Wipe Every Tear
