May 10

I’ll never forget listening to my roommate, Rochelle, during an interview where she made a statement that sank my heart like an anchor:

”When you talk to a little girl and ask her what she wants to be one day when she grows up, what does she say? She’ll tell you she wants to be a Doctor, a Lawyer, a Nurse, a Teacher…do you ever hear a little girl say, ‘One day I’m gonna grow up and become a prostitute.’ “

My first night in the Philippines felt like one jet-laggin, sweaty dream.  On the way to our destination in Olongapo, we stopped in Angeles, a city full of night life.  Three minutes in Angeles was enough to pick up that the Angeles vibes were a little off and it wasn’t the old Filipino man in his cart trying to sell me balut.  About every twenty seconds your atypical- haole (caucasian), middle-aged male walks around the corner, he resembles the classic tourist that comes to Hawai’i…but where is his wife and kids??  The cities of Angeles and Olongapo were not built on being a “nice family- friendly vacation spot,”  but here families begin.

A product of prostitution, Cathy escaped an unsuccessful abortion.  She was born to a Filipino mother and African-American father who was in the U.S. Navy.  Raised by her Uncle and his wife, from an early age she felt like a misfit, and was often teased for being so dark.  Though she was raised by her Uncle, her mother would send money to the family that would pay for her education to a good, private high school in Manila.  Feeling like a “black sheep” Cathy says, she started getting into trouble which eventually led to her getting kicked out of school.  When her Uncle and his family decided to move up to Olongapo, Cathy went along and decided at sixteen that she would get a job in the working world as a saleslady.  One thing led to the next and she found herself unwed and pregnant.  A series of events led her to decide to keep the baby, break up with this married man she was involved with, and allow her Uncle, who had pleaded with her to let him raise her baby, JB.  After JB was several months old, Cathy left her Uncles home once again to work, and live her life.  It didn’t take much for a young, single mom to realize that the night life that revolved around the port of Olongapo offered wages hard to resist.  The way prostitution works in the PI, is that girls are legally registered as waitresses, dancers, or G.R.O.’s (Guest Relations Officer which is a hostess type position).  Cathy started off waitressing, and within one year, was working/living in one of the brothels, pregnant again, and on “chabu” cocaine.  A few of the other girls were also pregnant and they were all scheduled to get abortions together.  The day of, Cathy, who was seven months pregnant, got really sick and couldn’t get out of bed.  The other girls went, took the medicine that makes you miscarriage and came back later.  Through out the night Cathy remembered the other girls bleeding excessively and so sick from the miscarriages, that she decided that she couldn’t go through with it, and would keep her baby.  The next day feeling a bit better, she went downstairs to eat some food, and a pair of missionary ladies from ywam were in the bar and invited her to a bible study where she agreed to go.  The love of God hit her as the Pastor talked about the ‘Prodigal Son’ from the bible.  It spoke straight to her core, and she could not stop weeping.  She later received prayer from the pastor, and she says from that day her heart changed and all she wanted to do was to be reconciled to her family and raise both of her children together.  Needing to get out of this lifestyle and re-build her life,  Cathy went into a home that was created for women coming out of prostitution.  From there she joined YWAM Olongapo where she’s been living her dream of raising both of her boys JB (10) and Andre (8).  She’s dedicated herself to reaching out to those in prostitution, while helping run a similar live-in program that she was once in, that helps support those who’ve made a choice to come out of prostitution.

After my first night in the Philippines, I was so disturbed by what I saw that I couldn’t shake it off and get ‘over it’.  One of the biggest consumers of the prostitution industry in the Philippines are middle-aged and over American men, that can buy a woman for the price you pay for two Big-Macs.  Coming from a country that is floored by equality rights,  being politically correct,  and prides itself as a country that fights wars for justice and freedom,  I was outraged by how some of our fellow Americans choose to define these things, while influencing the world abroad in the choices they make.  I had an opportunity one night to go into the bars and meet some of the girls, and “ladyboys”  that the Olongapo team had befriended.  As I stepped into those bars on that Friday night, I even got to talking to one guy similar in age to my dad also named, Tom.  I still wouldn’t call it right or okay if the prostitute was older, and the client younger,  but the fact that 90% of the men I saw that night could’ve been my dad or my uncle or somebody else’s dad, grieved me immensely.  My dad, Tom, is one of my hero’s as every dad should be and every daughter should have.  My generation needs Father figures who can be entrusted with such great an honor and duty.  I so desperately needed some good to hold onto that Friday night while digesting all that I saw.  Meeting Cathy and her sharing her story with me revived my faith once again that we always have hope, and that miracles happen daily when we allow them to fall from the heart of God.