Night out on the hidden town

Greetings friends! It is the last week of classes before our fall break here at CMU, which is essentially code for midterms, projects and presentations galore, justified by the slow anticipation of two travel-filled, non-academic weeks to come. Arguably for some of us however, this vacation won't really be non-academic, as those involved in service work will still have a paper due for our online class, and those in the sex trafficking course will be compiling our final ethnographic research assignment. And for those like me who have an extensive thesis project to begin upon return home (I may be the only one in this situation - good old Hampshire!), there is the idealistic hope of completing some research and writing in my forthcoming "down time". But really, when do I ever have down time here? I mean, the fact that I aim to get schoolwork done during vacation is an irony in and of itself. But anyway, moving on..

I am currently taking a break from studying for my Thai final exam tomorrow - a language that has surprisingly been easier for me to learn than expected. I mainly equate this to having a good memory (I like to think its photographic but its really not), and to be fair, I haven't learned how to write the language, only speak it. But hey, I've done pretty well so far! Too bad I'll be switching to Khmer, the Cambodian language, in only a few weeks. I hope my host family in Phnom Penh doesn't get offended if/when I accidentally speak to them in Thai... or Spanish - I've been doing that too. For example: sometimes when I'm trying to say "yes" to a Thai driver or vendor, I accidentally use the Spanish word, "si" . Well, "sii" translates to the number four in Thai, so you can imagine the confusion that has ensued.

Despite these sporadic communication mishaps, I'm feeling relatively confident about my exam tomorrow, so I've decided to divert my focus for awhile and share the details of my experience this past Monday night. Believe me, it was quite the promiscuous evening.

For my sex trafficking class which met for the final time this past Monday, our professor who is also the director of Southeast Asian Affairs, took us on a very unique field trip. We finished class around seven, ate dinner and left the CMU campus around 8:30-9pm. First we stopped on a street lined with love hotels, which vary in their architecture, but all have the same basic premise: to offer discrete private rooms that anyone - sex workers, lovers, friends, foreigners, etc. - can rent out for a night at a fairly cheap price. As in all hospitality industries, the quality of the room affects its price, and the longer one stays the more the payment. Generally though, renting a room seemed fairly cheap from the prices I saw displayed on the walls, especially when making the conversion from Thai baht to American dollars.

Contrary to what one might assume having spent time in Southeast Asia, Americans and foreigners are not typically the customers that end up at these facilities. More often, its local people who want to hide their private business from the community. Even though I have learned throughout this seven week course that sex work is not necessarily wrong, disempowering or inhumane (note how I'm calling it "sex work" rather than "prostitution"), an incredible stigma still exists around this occupation and those who engage in it. Thus, it makes sense why Thais and other local people wouldn't want their friends and acquaintances to know about all their sexual endeavors -- especially if this involves the hiring or frequent visitation with sex workers. Thais looking for love aren't going to prance around at a farang bar thumbing their money until the hottest catch walks by. Such activity would be a surefire way to lose face, an expression used by Thais to suggest the damaging of one's societal reputation or image.

So due to these factors, the love hotels are set up in a drive-through manner. They are more like motels in the sense that there's only a ground floor, and each room has a sheltered outcropping which is just big enough to hold the customers' car. There's a curtain at the entrance of this little garage area, so once you've driven in you can enter the room with complete privacy and anonymity. Additionally, payments are made drive-through style through a window at the exit of the hotel, and I believe the transaction is always made in cash. This way employers of the hotel really have no way of knowing who is coming in and out of their property, which preserves anonymity and undoubtedly makes people more comfortable using their services. For these reasons, we understandably didn't see any customers when visiting this road - and we also went down a few others - but we were able to walk around the perimeter and get a sense of the scene. By far the most aesthetically enjoyable place to view was the Loveboat hotel, pictured below. The rest were more or less concrete rectangular buildings tucked discretely among the trees.

Note: the following pictures are from the internet -- we were not permitted to take pictures at any of the sites during our trip.

Next we drove by some karaoke bars, which are basically small venues where sex workers - typically women (because we can't generalize that all sex workers are female, now can we?!) - congregate outside and wait for customers who they will then flirt with and keep company throughout the night. Usually the patron must buy the sex worker drinks if they wish to continue talking with them. A portion of this booze money filters directly into that worker's salary, which is why this economic-social transaction is so important to uphold. In some instances, I'm sure people (farangs) end up going home with these women, but this certainly isn't always the case, and really depends more on the title of the worker, his or her comfortability level, and he nature of the bar. Oftentimes sex workers are just meant to be a form of entertainment and companionship, known in Cambodia as "hostesses". Notice how I'm still using the umbrella term "sex worker". Well technically no, they aren't all having sex, but that's assuming that sex is only defined as oral penetration. Is wearing provocative clothing and flirting with a customer for sexual pleasure not a form of sex work? I present this merely as a rhetorical question, as a gentle reminder that we must always be second-guessing our presuppositions.

Something interesting that our professor pointed out as we observed these karaoke bars from afar is one specific way they can be distinguished from other casual bars and clubs. For whatever reason, karaoke bars will often have some assemblage of Christmas lights hanging around the entrance and interior of the building. The decorations aren't necessarily green and red, but merely the style of light one would see around the holidays. This may seem like a minor detail to pay attention to, especially because flashy bright lights are a typical part of many bar scenes. But honestly, as soon as this detail was pointed out it became much easier to determine which were presumably the karaoke bars and which were not, as we continued driving through the city. It also brought about the personal realization as to just how how many sex-oriented venues I have likely ignorantly passed by in my two months exploring this city.

**This post was finished on Tuesday, Oct. 11th at a cafe in Luang Prabang, Laos. And yes, I did pass my exams in case you were wondering :) **

Next we stopped at a large hotel-looking building, which we were quickly informed was a massage parlor for men. For this reason, the four females in the group weren't allowed to enter. so we waited eagerly for the men to return with a detailed report. They came back after only a few minutes and told us that upon entering, they witnessed a plethora of women hanging out on a row of pyramiding steps behind a glass wall. They were all dressed in skimpy clothing, with their hair done and face shrouded in excessive make up. Each girl had a number pinned to her top, and a bored expression upon her face as she stared at a small tv screen against the glass wall, faced away from the customers. Clearly, the tv's were there to keep the women entertained as they waited to be bought. Our male friends had returned quickly because the person in charge had assumed they were there for massages and was hovering uncomfortably close by waiting for their selection.

We then stopped at another massage parlor where us females were allowed to enter, but only by holding the arm of one of our male classmates so it seemed like we were entering as a couple. This place was a bit nicer according to the boys, and there was actually a seating area across from the show of women, where patrons could order drinks and take their time selecting a masseuse. According to our professor, the women will first bathe their customer and then take him into a room for up to an hour, or more if further payment is offered. All I could think about for the five minutes we sat there was how bored the women looked; how uninterested they seemed in what they were there to do. To them, sitting there on display was just every day work. It didn't seem exciting nor miserable, and frankly it didn't matter how the women felt because this was just part of getting by economically. This was their job. I couldn't help but wonder if some women got selected more than others, and how a woman felt if she wasn't chosen all night. Was it devastating to not make much money, or was it relieving to not have to have sex? Or was it maybe a combination of both? As much as I knew it was impossible, I yearned to be able to speak with one of these women.

These feelings and thoughts only escalated as we reached our final and primary destination of the night, a gay strip club called Adams Apple. First of all, let me pick apart what is meant here by a "gay strip club". As you would imagine, all the dancers were men, which included some ladyboys (if you don't know anything about ladyboys I highly recommend looking into it, but the title is basically just as it sounds - men who were originally female-bodied). The sex workers were predominantly Burmese migrants, involved in the industry due to its economic advantages over other low-skill and low-paying jobs . However, these men were NOT all gay, in fact the majority probably would've defined themselves as straight, I was told. While this club primarily attracts male customers and the workers are having sex with a lot of men, they are only doing this - like the women at the massage parlors - because its their job, not necessarily because of their sexual preference. Obviously this bar was also open to women, seeing as the four of us were allowed in, and we were not the only females present. In fact, there were several times where my good girlfriend and I noticed the dancers eyeing us interestedly, clearly showing that their attraction lay in the opposite sex, or at least wasn't one-sided. The fascinating thing in Southeast Asia, which is also very liberating, is that the label of one's sexual identity is not hugely important. You can be straight and have sex with guys here and there, and nobody is going to challenge whether or not your bi. Furthermore, while in the US it is more common to see women hooking up with other women and not being called lesbians, the opposite is true in Thailand. Male-to-male hookups are much more common and acceptable and although I have some theories, I'm not exactly sure why. My guess it that is has something to do with the conservativism of the culture, and the expectation of how women should dress and behave.

Back to the events at the the strip club. We sat down (in front row seats mind you) and ordered drinks. The dancers were already on stage, completely naked except for underwear that just covered their private parts. They each had a fake name attached to their waistline, and different striped colors on their boxers to distinguish them apart - if you could even call them boxers. To be honest, the majority of them also had incredibly fit bodies. I only saw one man who was slightly overweight and it made me wonder if you have to be a certain shape to be hired. Unfortunately, my guess is yes.

After a short bit, the lights went down and the men went backstage. Before we knew it the show had begun, and men were coming out to dance butt-naked or with holes cut in their underwear to reveal erect penises. They gyrated with hoolah hoops, bright lights, poles and streamers. The two most unforgettable acts were individuals dressed in Spiderman and Batman costumes, each waving their man-parts around like they could save the world with them. All I can say is, I don't think I'll ever look at superheroes the same way again...

Having never been to a strip club before, it was all pretty odd to watch but at the same time, still within the realm of my expectations. That is, until the very end. Just as things were winding down, a man came out completely naked except for a tarzan-esque gorilla mask and a huge blown-up banana. He began dancing and jumping around the stage, hopping from pole to pole until he reached the back of he room. And then to everyone's surprise (at least within my group of classmaetes) he began gyrating with a random man sitting in a chair. I'm talking penis completely in the face, no shame or hesitation. We thought he would just do this with one embarrassed patron, but to our horror he proceeded to move from person to person among the crowd, the entire crowd. Until he reached us, and I'll leave the rest up to your imagination. It was quite unsettling to say the least, especially for my friends who have had no prior exposure to male private parts. One could even say it felt a bit sexually violating, but then again, this was not unexpected behavior for this type of environment; there were probably certain people in the crowd who enjoyed it. But I will say, in terms of seeing a penis for the first time, it was quite the introduction.. thankfully my peers were good-spirited and we were all able to laugh about it later.

Throughout the show, certain dancers would be called offstage to sit with a customer who had decided to buy them a drink. In order to talk with one of the workers, there was a middle-man (known in female bars often as a mamasan) who the interested layperson could approach and negotiate with. Under this system, there is no direct verbal contact between dancers and customers without the completion of at least one financial transaction. At first this seemed really strange and unnatural to me, but I had to remind myself that Adam's Apple functions as a business, and these men are there to make money. Its not the same as simply meeting a stranger and flirting with them at a bar -- that type of freedom doesn't exist in these types of settings and at first, that realization made me uncomfortable. However, you have to believe that people working in this industry or utilizing it frequently get used to the way it operates. And honestly, this type of business does guarantee sex for those who can afford it, a guarantee not present when one meanders freely into a casual bar. If this is one's purpose, than having these services available is efficient and convenient, and can benefit both parties involved. The notion that an individual who lacks citizenship can remain financially stable merely by showing off his or her body and engaging in sexual activities is probably - in somewhat of an ironic way - incredibly liberating. It means that person doesn't have to suffer from adverse poverty, or go through laborious training to work a minimum wage job. Oftentimes it means that individual can work for themselves, and even support their families back home. This is a reality that many socioeecomically comfortable people take for granted. Sure, sex work may not be the ideal job, but neither is working at McDonalds. Sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to reap meaningful benefits.

It may seem like I'm taking sides here and trying to defend the sex industry, but I'm really just echoing what I have learned over the past few months and the way I perceived and applied this information to a real-life scenario. Visiting these venues last week didn't so much affirm my understandings about sex work so much as produce many new questions. I so badly wanted to speak with one of the men, but to do so would've required buying an expensive drink and finding someone to translate for me, as the workers spoke limited English. I wanted to know if they liked their work, hated it, felt bored by it or just did it without really thinking twice. They danced with completely indifferent expressions on their faces, which shocked me at first because I was expecting them to act appear excited and aroused, seductive even. But then again. why would they? It was probably just a typical Monday night for them. It's really hard to imagine living this type of live from my perspective, or anyone who hasn't been a sex worker. All I know, is that I no longer want to make assumptions; I never want to speak for someone who does this type of work because the truth is, we can't know how they feel, and nor should we try.

I hope you got something out of this story, I certainly got a lot out of the experience and I hope this isn't the end of my engagement with the topic of sex work. Stay tuned for my next post about my experience in Laos and my conflicted feelings on tourism. Another fun-filled issue :)

Wishing you all the best!

<3 Amy