Caitlin Parker, currently leading the January 2012 D squad, encountered some of the horrors of the sex trade in the Philippines while a Racer on the January 2010 N squad. An edited excerpt of her thoughts follow.
Anger welled up inside of me as I read the words on the wall written in big, bold capital letters.NO REFUND
The words hit me like I had been punched in the stomach, leaving a sick nauseous feeling. It was the first thing I saw as I entered the massage parlor.
The next thing my eyes met were ten beautiful smiling faces of the women who worked there. They were sitting in what can only be described as a pen or corral in front of a large mirror that spanned the wall behind them. We walked in and almost instantly had ten new friends.
We sat for the next half hour or so talking, laughing, sharing, just being. We talked about the things we liked and enjoyed, our dreams, hopes, and desires. We learned their names and asked about where they were from, as most of the girls were trafficked here from somewhere else in the country.
Then the sobering reality hit me as four customers ready to consume the product they wanted to buy walked up the stairs. How could this be? These girls are just like me.
In one moment, they were talking about their desires to become nurses, singers, restaurant managers, to go back to school and in the next were an object to be bought and sold with no refund. The men’s eyes met the fierceness in ours and they quickly turned around as embarrassment came over their faces. I quickly put it out of my mind because I had more laughing, smiling, and encouraging to do.
I knew this was just the beginning. This encounter was the first of many clubs we have visited where hundreds of women are in this destructive situation.
It has now been over a week since my first experience in the clubs and I now know much more than I ever thought I would. I now know that one girl was far younger than the required age of 18 when she was brought to Manila to be a “waitress,” then forced to dance and sleep with men. Her own cousin had lied to her and sold her to a recruiter. I now know that there are countless girls who are just trying to support their parents or to pay tuition to go to school. I now know the girl who was orphaned and has to take care of her little brother. She feels hopeless, like she has no other option.
I now know that girl after girl gets drunk night after night to numb the horror of what they have to do. I can hear her voice telling me, “I just get very drunk. Its just easier that way.” I can hear the words echoing in my head, “No one wants to be here. We all want to get out and go somewhere else. Anything but this.”
I have seen the bruises. I have seen the tears. I have seen the emptiness in their eyes as they try to escape to somewhere else in their minds while they dance exposed in front of the men who want to consume their flesh.
I have seen the men, many of whom are Americans on “business” trips with wedding rings on their hands, being consumed by a sick addiction that never fulfills but leaves a lust for more. I have seen the desperation for something to rescue these women from the nightmare they live.
My heart is beyond broken, it is crying out for these amazing women, for the injustice that they have been subject to…
Read the rest of Caitlin’s post on her blog.
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