girl in Thailand goes into prostitution; in their opinion, the women who worked in bars were just lazy. Many mamasans, the local term for a madam, told me that as well, but I didn't think it was as simple as laziness. Some poor girls work in clothing factories, often holding down two or three jobs, and slave their guts out to get ahead. Others see prostitution as a short cut to nice clothes and shoes and the latest mobile phone. Some girls had gone to work in the bars and brothels for a limited time to pay off a debt they'd incurred to help pay for a sister's wedding, or to buy medicines to treat their own health problems or the ailments of other family members, or to support a child or their parents.
One very attractive Thai sex worker told me she had worked in a factory that manufactured apparel for two of the major western sporting goods companies and was paid ten baht an hour for a twelve-hour shift (about five Australian dollars for a day's work). She had little time to spend with her husband and daughter and eventually he ran off with another woman and took the daughter with him. She decided it wasn't worth it, so she became a sex worker and was earning 5000 baht â about A$200 â per night. Her dream was to buy a convenience store and find her daughter.
Another sex worker, Fon, told me she'd once had a small business selling shirts at a stall at Chiang Mai airport plaza. She was a classy woman, not terribly well educated, but smart, attractive and hard-working. When she was about thirty, a Thai guy raped her at a party, which knocked the hell out of her self-esteem. She lost her stall and ended up working in a bar. She wasn't selling her body, but she would be nice to the clientele and get them to buy her âlady drinksâ â watered-down cocktails. She was paid a percentage of the price of every drink bought for her.
The owner of the bar, an older German man, convinced her he had fallen for her and wanted to be her boyfriend. He eventually persuaded her to come home with him and they had sex, and not long after that he swung her into working in the bar as a sex worker. He pointed out to her that if she went with a customer she could make enough in one night to cover her rent for a week and still have some money left over to buy a couple of items of clothing. He preyed on her low self-esteem at the time and her need to survive.
I liked Fon and initially employed her as an interpreter. As I got to know her I wanted to help her find a better life. I gave her enough cash for a fresh start and eventually we entered into a relationship. Even when I went back to Australia I used to fund English and computer lessons for her.
Fon got a job working for Empower, the organisation that stood up for the rights of sex workers in Thailand. Unfortunately, the gulf between us in education and culture was too great and we split up. As a parting gift I bought her a gym membership at an expensive hotel; I hoped she might meet a wealthy western guy who would look after her and her family. It was a forlorn hope and the last I heard she had gone back to the bars.
Finally, about seven weeks after arriving in Thailand, my research began to pay off. It began with yet another apparent false start, when I was referred by a contact to a place in Santi Tam that apparently had an underage Shan girl. The Shan people are an ethnic minority based in Burma; they have their own separate language. Luckily I met a Shan girl in the markets selling knives; I explained the situation and told her I needed someone to translate for me. She offered to help, but when I went back later to confirm everything with her she said she didn't know who I was and didn't recall our conversation. Maybe she just got cold feet, but her sudden turnaround was very strange.
In spite of this setback, I went to the place in Santi Tam and the mamasan told me she could get me a young girl, but I would have to wait while someone went to fetch her. I sat on a
One very attractive Thai sex worker told me she had worked in a factory that manufactured apparel for two of the major western sporting goods companies and was paid ten baht an hour for a twelve-hour shift (about five Australian dollars for a day's work). She had little time to spend with her husband and daughter and eventually he ran off with another woman and took the daughter with him. She decided it wasn't worth it, so she became a sex worker and was earning 5000 baht â about A$200 â per night. Her dream was to buy a convenience store and find her daughter.
Another sex worker, Fon, told me she'd once had a small business selling shirts at a stall at Chiang Mai airport plaza. She was a classy woman, not terribly well educated, but smart, attractive and hard-working. When she was about thirty, a Thai guy raped her at a party, which knocked the hell out of her self-esteem. She lost her stall and ended up working in a bar. She wasn't selling her body, but she would be nice to the clientele and get them to buy her âlady drinksâ â watered-down cocktails. She was paid a percentage of the price of every drink bought for her.
The owner of the bar, an older German man, convinced her he had fallen for her and wanted to be her boyfriend. He eventually persuaded her to come home with him and they had sex, and not long after that he swung her into working in the bar as a sex worker. He pointed out to her that if she went with a customer she could make enough in one night to cover her rent for a week and still have some money left over to buy a couple of items of clothing. He preyed on her low self-esteem at the time and her need to survive.
I liked Fon and initially employed her as an interpreter. As I got to know her I wanted to help her find a better life. I gave her enough cash for a fresh start and eventually we entered into a relationship. Even when I went back to Australia I used to fund English and computer lessons for her.
Fon got a job working for Empower, the organisation that stood up for the rights of sex workers in Thailand. Unfortunately, the gulf between us in education and culture was too great and we split up. As a parting gift I bought her a gym membership at an expensive hotel; I hoped she might meet a wealthy western guy who would look after her and her family. It was a forlorn hope and the last I heard she had gone back to the bars.
Finally, about seven weeks after arriving in Thailand, my research began to pay off. It began with yet another apparent false start, when I was referred by a contact to a place in Santi Tam that apparently had an underage Shan girl. The Shan people are an ethnic minority based in Burma; they have their own separate language. Luckily I met a Shan girl in the markets selling knives; I explained the situation and told her I needed someone to translate for me. She offered to help, but when I went back later to confirm everything with her she said she didn't know who I was and didn't recall our conversation. Maybe she just got cold feet, but her sudden turnaround was very strange.
In spite of this setback, I went to the place in Santi Tam and the mamasan told me she could get me a young girl, but I would have to wait while someone went to fetch her. I sat on a
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