A couple of months ago a foreign man approached me in the grocery store.
I was standing in line to check out. He said, “hey! I know you, you’re that girl that dances on stage at that bar”. Never did I ever think that I would be known for dancing on stage at a bar. Especially as a missionary. None of you probably ever expected to support a missionary known for dancing on stage at a bar.
When we do outreach with WET we go into the bars knowing we carry the power of the Holy Spirit, the same power that raised Christ from the dead, the same power that is able to break any chain and bring freedom. So we don’t go in mournfully, but joyfully. Not because the place we are going is joyful but because He who resides in us is the fullness of joy.
And so sometimes that means dancing and looking like a fool to break the ice and make a girl feel a little more comfortable while she stands up on stage in her bikini with eyes all over her.
There are a few bars we go into on Walking Street (the red light district in Angeles City) where we are allowed to go up and dance with the girls. Usually they have Zumba videos playing and I just follow along with the dance moves in the video (because let’s be real if there’s no video I have no idea what I’m doing).
And so that is how I earned a reputation, at least with this one guy, as the white girl who dances at the bar.
It is amusing and I laughed off the comment. But there was also an aspect of it that made me uncomfortable. I never thought I’d be known for that, and yet most of the girls I dance with on stage never had a chance to decide if they wanted to be known for that. It wasn’t a choice to begin working in the bars, but a decision made out of a need to support their family.
I’ve met girls from all over the Philippines, their stories normally have a similar thread – coming from families experiencing depths of poverty most of us cannot imagine they were left with few options to help provide for their families. Here in the Philippines you cannot work a retail job without a college degree so where are they to go? Many of the girls never finished high school or dropped out of college after just a couple of months, moving to Angeles to work so they can pay for younger siblings to go to school and their families to have rice to eat.
It’s something I deeply admire about Filipino culture, the dedication and commitment to taking care of your family regardless of the cost to yourself. But I want these women to understand that they matter too, their dreams matter too.
Recently out on a night of outreach with a team I ended up in a couple of bars where I had friendships with girls already. I ended up spending most of my time just chatting with them, allowing them to rest for a few brief moments. In one of the bars, my friend recently transitioned from working as a dancer to working as a waitress. We found a seat on top of one of the giant speakers and sat and just caught up on life. It was a sweet moment and it struck me just how comfortable I had become here in the bars. It seems odd that I would be so comfortable in such a dark place. Off to my right the rest of my team sat talking to a few girls, and one of our Bella Goose staff was laughing hard at something someone said. It was a moment of hope, a reminder that the darkness doesn’t win, that there is hope, that laughter and joy is possible with Jesus.
