Bulakan, Bulacan greets me each morning with a hot, humid hug. Within minutes — no physical activity needed — I start to feel the sweat beads forming along my hairline and I am again reminded I cannot escape the heat of southeast Asia. I find moments of sweet mercy and brief relief after my nightly bucket showers and crawling into bed near an oscillating fan, but as I said, the morning too quickly greets me with its sweet wall of heat each day.
I love Asia, I have loved my Race, but that doesn’t mean every month is going to be my favorite. Most racers will hit a spiritual/emotional low point one month, then a physical low point another, or maybe all of that and a bag of chips will hit you in the same month.
Well, I can confidently say this month was my physical low. Let me set the scene.
Now so far on my route, the Lord has blessed the teams I’ve been on with more comfortable setups — total blessings and completely unexpected — but it’s been nice to have a decent mattress to sleep on and at least a toilet seat on my toilet. But when I was told about my new digs in the Philippines I definitely had some nerves, but figured it was time to earn my World Race stripes and have a truly uncomfortable month. Heck, I was even kind of excited about it!
We have 15+ people packed into a small concrete house along with mice, spiders, lizards, and roaches (and don’t forget to add our favorite roommate, humidity, into all of this). No mattresses, only wooden bunks for our sleeping pads. No toilets, just bowls to hover over. No showers, only buckets. No AC, only a few fans to share among 14 people.
Feeling cramped? The only place to truly go was 7/11 a few miles down the road via trike-taxi, a mall about an hour away via three forms of public transportation, or you could take a two minute walk to the shake stand a block down the road for some quick air. Otherwise, you’re stuck. And this town has only seen white people two other times before us, so whenever you step foot outside you are STARED down. Constantly observed, always wanted for your supposed big American wallet, and forever being yelled “Hello!” to.
This isn’t anyone’s form of ideal, but after the first few days I figured I could handle all this. After all, it’s only a month, right?
I was enjoying our off days in Manila a couple hours away for some AC-inspired rejuvenation or random stays at the local “resort,” but after week one, things went a bit sour.
Within a week, I had three different skin rashes and was working on my fourth. I had an allergic reaction on my arms twice, a heat rash on my other, and my whole neck was covered in an itchy rash.
And then a few days later, it was as if a truck had hit me. My whole body ached, my joints were stiff, and my muscles were sore. I’ve been fortunate to have only been sick a few times in the last 10 months, but this was the worst. And my only place to rest was my plywood bunk.
Eventually the fever subsided, but my body never recovered. I kept aching and not feeling like myself, but I copped it to just being the untypical environment and it was no big deal. Just make it through the month, Shelby.
Well, on my 7th skin ailment I had had enough.
I had two more random rashes occur on each leg and a few days passed, I noticed major pain in my legs and arms. Pus-filled lesions were lining my leg, my arm, and even on my chest. They seemed to have come from nowhere! Before I knew it, huge red halos formed around the sores.
Yeah, I was irritated and bummed about feeling like World Race Frankenstein, but I figured I’d keep using some good ol’ peroxide and fix myself up real quick. No biggie, it’ll work itself out.
Then I woke up with these glorious lesions on my face.
I don’t care who you are, no one wants red, swollen, painful boils on their face for no apparent reason. So, I decided to be an adult and go to the doctor.
And after a stop at the hospital, an employee trying to tell me I merely had chicken pox and was wrong about my medical history, a doctor reminding me three times that staph and MRSA can be deadly organisms and I have a very good chance of having one of those, three stops at different labs, I was told to take antibiotics, use some cream, and wait it out.
Any woman knows, humidity is not your friend in the first place. It makes you feel ugly, frizzy, and sticky — so all of this plus staph boils on my face and body did not make Shelby a happy camper.
I got home from the doctor and basically locked myself in my room. And I cried Kim Kardashian-style.
But I didn’t cry just because I was uncomfortable or in pain. I didn’t cry because I the word “deadly” had been associated in any ways with my condition. I cried because I felt ugly.
I could handle lesions on my arms and legs, even my chest! I could handle some pain and even deal with the uncomfortable living arrangements. I could even survive the humidity.
Yet I crumbled when it came to my face. I literally bawled my eyes out because I felt so unworthy to be seen by my squadmates. Even when they came in to encourage me and tell me I was still their beautiful SB, I tried to hide my face. I was mortified by the possibility of stares or the thought ugly creeping into their minds.
Oh my goodness did I feel so ashamed. Who am I?! I’ve overcome so much in the past 10 months, one of the biggest being my self-worth and finding my identity in Christ. Yet I so quickly fell back into the slump of this world. I don’t want to go back to that point. I don’t want to take one step backwards, not for one moment.
So here I am, my final day in the Philippines, reflecting on my month, and I’ve realized God used this month as a major gut check for me.
I am safe, relatively healthy and getting the care I need, I have so many people who love me, I’m traveling the world, I have Christ as my Savior, and I have clean water to drink. But I’m just concerned about my face being unappealing.
Yes, I have boils on my face, my body hurts, and my sores are (praise Jesus!) slowly beginning to heal thanks to the medication. It’s not fun, and I definitely don’t recommend swimming in green pool water (helpful tip).
But I am not letting my face define me or how I’m going to feel. My identity, character, whole being is in Christ alone and I’m learning to make that more than enough for me.
1 Peter 3:3-5: “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”
