Landed in Bangkok early on the 23rd, and me and my mom promptly took a reserved taxi to Pattaya, a big tourist town two hours east of the city. Our driver was Julie, a Thai woman who spent half the ride doing what every cab driver int he world does, which is complain about how fucked up the country is. She ended up over-charging us, but I'm not sure if she was being scummy, or if there was something mixed up when she got the order. Supposedly, Pattaya is known for it's whores, which is kind of a redundant statement in any tourist spot in Thailand, but fitting with what we came here to do.
So, what's more awesome than going to a fund-raising gala event to benefit Thai hookers held in an upscale hotel? If you said going to a fund-raising gala event to benefit Thai hookers held in an upscale hotel with your mom, than your speaking my language. Sooooo, the whole reason we came out here was to attend this kind of fundraiser party that was being held in conjunction with an NGO where David - my mom's friend in Bangkok - works. (Btw, since when did hookers ever need a fundraiser?) We were told to to wear gold, and luckily the day before I was able to buy some gold looking silk pajamas in Hanoi. Well, besides the fact that I was under the impression that this was supposed to be a giant whore parade, and not something that was just held inside the reception room of a 3-star hotel, it was still probably the craziest thing I've done in Bangkok so far. (When was the last time you ever heard the San Diego Marriot hosting a prostitute fundraiser, or at least an open one) Nora, David's wife, met us at the lobby, and in her high-energy chaotic Spanish-ness, escorted us to a "changing room" where we could get into our gold outfits, which was really a giant conference room filled with Thai ladyboys getting changed as well. It was a good start to the day, kind of setting the tone for the rest of the event.
So, we finally walk into the reception hall, which is this giant space, and you can hear the blaring Thai pop music a mile away. I was greeted by some six foot Thai transvestite who just seemed way too happy to see us. There was a stage, where a bunch of other transvestites were dancing, and the place was packed and going absolutely nuts. There was about 500 people there, most of them prostitutes, both male and female. For the next couple of hours, various different Thai pop acts hit the stage, each getting a big reaction from the crowd, which was dancing like crazy. I rarely see any Thai men who are ever taller than me, but apparently the rules that seem to govern drag culture everywhere in the world are stronger than genetics, since nearly every cross-dressed male was well over six feet tall. A lot of them were carrying around these giant 3 gallon glass jugs from Carlos Rossi wine that they had filled with just the most horrendous alcohol ever made. Dubbed "Thai whiskey," it tasted more like Whole Foods herbal cough syrup mixed with drain opener. Didn't mean it wasn't a big hit with locals though.
Another Western "rule" that seemed to apply was the same one that governs any kind of dress-up party in the US, stating that gay guys need to go over the top and elaborate with their costumes, while the straight girls just have to dress like sluts. You'd think that Thai hookers would want to get out their work clothes for a thing like this, but you'd be wrong. It did make sense, however, because many of them were obviously still "on the clock." You see, what made the whole party especially creepy was the fact that there were a bunch of Johns hanging out there too, each escorting their Thai hooker "girlfriends." I'm not sure exactly how it works out here, but everywhere in Bangkok you see some middle aged white guy awkwardly holding hands with a much younger done-up Thai girl, each staring blankly and intensely ahead, their faces being as far away from showing anything resembling joy as can be biologically possible. You'd think the guys would be all about "hit it and quit it" when it came to foreign prostitutes they can barely understand, but apparently a lot of male (and even some female) tourists come here to get the whole girlfriend experience on the cheap as well, regardless of how utterly uncomfortable the whole thing looks. I've seen them go on walks with their hookers, tell them stories about their families, cuddle in public (albeit very uneasily) take them shopping, and even buy them ice-cream. Awwwww.
So when their little $200-a-night angels need to go to a fundraiser party, the thought of being away from snookums for one eency-weency minute (before of course they fly back home in a couple days and never see them again) is just too hard for the Johns to bear. And so, here we all are, me, about 30 college-educated liberals who work for AIDS prevention NGO's, about 400 straight and trans-gender prostitutes, and about a dozen or so creepy dour-faced clients, all just tearin' it up on the dance floor to best pop songs Thailand has to offer (Someone did do a cover of "Zombie" by the Cranberries though. Nice!) I'm not sure what I was expecting to see at a prostitute party outside of Bangkok, but for the most part it seemed like a everything was a whole lot of fun, up until a point though. Seeing male clients with hookers was a little creepy, but in many cases was at least kinda funny and even a little endearing (like the six-foot-plus computer programmer dude with a ponytail being taught to dance by his "lady.") It wasn't even that bad when I saw a girl leading a guy in his sixties by the hand into the bathroom, it just made me decide to use the downstairs bathroom in the lobby from now on. However, the thing that really broke my heart and made it all too real was when the girls were obviously much younger than the guys they were with. I'm sure all the sex-workers there, male and female, were "legal," but viscerally it was still hard to tell, and still didn't make it much better. It's bad enough that the girl sitting on a middle-aged white guys lap right next to me looked like she was 12, but it didn't really quite punch me in the face until when, after a new act would come on stage, she all her friends would start squealing like they just saw Justin Bieber get out of a limo. The guy looked like a serial killer, and gave me the look of death when I tried to take a picture of him
While illegal, prostitution is apparently much more accepted in Thailand than in most parts of the world. I've never seen it be so open and in your face in my life. In some ways, this openness is at least honest, since even the most respectable people on earth use prostitutes, so why drive the trade underground where nothing but bad things can happen. The fact that the sex-workers could come out and have fun without the burden of a Scarlett Letter-like shame is in someways very endearing. Much like modeling and porn, there is a short shelf-life for this job, one without any future, and you could see that evident at the party as well. It was hard to spot a prostitute in the room over thirty, and if you did, you wish you hadn't. You have to figure that everyone at the party knew this deep down somewhere, but at least for today, they could make the most of it, and have some fun while they still could
So, of course, the next day was Christmas, or really Christmas Eve, which is the day us Polaks celebrate. With my mom out here, we were able to get a pretty authentic "Wigilia" dinner, especially since David is very into his own Polish heritage. Surprisingly, we found nearly every ingredient you need, and had a really kick-ass Polish Christmas in Bangkok, the world of Thai sex-workers already a million miles away. Borscht, mushroom soup, sauerkraut and cheese pierogi (heavan!) as well as this amazing sea-bass baked with oranges (No carp, but I guess my nickname had to represent) All of it awesome, and all of it made me the most full I've felt in a while. Great first two days in Bangkok.
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