Sorry, Part 3 of this *long* story takes two posts a & b. If you want the Part 1 & 2 background search text=”best of times”, author =”easyb”  date=”90”.  In a nutshell; American boy meets Thai prostitute in Singapore, becomes smitten, gives her money to go home, she disappears…

Given there isn’t a soul in the world to tell this story to I’ll cop to selfish cathartic motivations behind this post, however my last update didn’t do justice to my subject and the time has come to make that right.  I’ll call her K for the first letter in her Thai name (Ann was her working name in the other posts).  This is for her.

Literally a couple hours after the last post my mobile rings; flip it open, Thailand calling, it’s K. Gather bits and pieces; after our last call she’d gone to the Thai embassy in Singapore, with only the clothes on her back and asked to go home (everything else, including passport with the pimp), into detention she goes for ten days while her Thai citizenship is confirmed, that done deported on a plane home.  Here’s a bit of her story in her own words;

“At first I have to say thank you for everything that you helped me. If I dont have you I really dont know what I should do then. I dont know when I will have a chance to see my kid and family. I know some money that you gave me, it wasn't much for you but for me, it meant a lot. You helped me besides you didnt want anything back, I promise I will be honest to you in everything.”

”As you asked why I went to Singapore, thats I had to take care of my daughter and parents, they had debt and I need to respond with. I am just a little woman who doesn't have any degree to find a good job and get lots of salary, I have no choice. If I can choose it, I dont want to work like this. Many people say that I can earn lots of money in Singapore, so I have a willing to help my parents about debt and then I can have enough money for daughter to continue study. Maybe I have some money to pay for beauty course and then have my own beauty salon shop. But finally, I cant do as I dreamt about. It made me tired and upset, I didnt want to do anything. You can see it, it is just ended up. I tried to do everything and also travelled to another country, besides I not know what will happen to me. I feel really tired and have no power, I give up. Hope you can make me feel better then. At least I get back to stay with my family, dont worry too much about me. I will not do stupid things. I have many people to take care of.”

From there we stayed in touch, frequent email, sporadic phone calls, rounding out the story, building trust. The simmering glow of affection from Singapore warms, she’s eager for me to visit while we both acknowledge any relationship is impossible.  After awhile I decided damn the torpedoes I wanted to see her again – to know if this was just all a bit of temporary insanity, caused as Cogito Ergo said by crossing the International Date Line.  With a little creativity I was able to schedule a couple days of work and a long weekend in Thailand.  

Within the confines of limited language and so little time my expectations were confused, nervously walking across the hotel lobby that first morning, bleary from a red-eye flight, there she is rolling suitcase in hand, a long embrace, deep sighs, we’re both more than a little amazed to see each other.  A pleasurable day together, off shopping to buy a CyberDic, Thai-English electronic dictionary – it’s our new best friend. Later in the sultry Bangkok night, a fresh breeze floating off the river we linger over dinner as we get to know each other.  Her three friends take the next night off from the streets and bars and men so we could drive thirty kilometers out of Bangkok to a seaside restaurant.  A splendid time; they are full of questions and teasing, the fun adventure of going out with locals and saying “you order, I eat anything”.  Fantastic food, charming companionship.  It’s ten plus as we leave, cell phone rings, once again, Mom wants to meet me.  Snaking through shop-lined streets of Bangkok sprawl, handing-over driving to one of the girls, it’s too tight for me, reflexively closing my eyes as we squeeze around tight corners and impossible jams, deeper and deeper.  We park, wander down a dank maze of alleys and come to her parent’s home. It’s late; dad has retired for the evening, as has her daughter and her brother who’s sprawled out on a pad just inside the door, sound asleep.  Home is two rooms in a long low-slung building, no furniture, just pads for sleeping, the living/kitchen “room” is the alley outside the doors with a corrugated roof, a counter and boxes separates them from the neighbors, who stepping out their door wrapped in towels fresh from a shower, gaze over at me. The sink a bucket and hose, their wardrobe hanging on a rack.  Her mom and two neighbors roll-out mats for the five of us where we sit for the next hour or so and chat over beer.  The fact that this old white boy can sit cross-legged on the ground amuses them to no end.  Later I say something to K about her family being poor and she relies “we’re not poor, we have money”.  I suppose it’s all relative…  

Bright and early the next day her friends drive us to the coast.  Looking out the car window early morning Bangkok is waking up, before long we’re rolling across the verdant countryside with the cheerful soundtrack of girls singing along to Thai and Western pop love songs.  Stopping for breakfast, getting lost and somehow taking hours longer to reach our destination than planned, no one cares.  Being in a car full of heartfelt affection, camaraderie, laughing and high spirits, seeing the other side of a hard life has eased my soul.  Warm good-byes and pictures at the dock as we catch the ferry out to Ko Samet a small island in the gulf.  A boutique beach hotel awaits us; providing a few brief, blessedly slow days together. Later back across the gulf her aunt and a friend pick us up at the ferry for the drive to the Bangkok airport.  In tune with the mood the car is filled with sad and soulful Thai folk songs, we’re both on the verge of tears for three hours.  Last hugs, waves over the airport crowd, it’s over.  Goodbye.

There is so much I’ve learned the past two months; from first selecting K out of four women in the back of a taxi van in Singapore, to the return visit and all the communication in between; with K, her friends, their boyfriends, women’s organizations and more.  Through this experience I learned that Thai prostitution is a perfect storm of culture, location and economics.  A beautiful country where until recently polygamy was accepted, where the women are beautiful and gracious and where thousands of poor people stream from the villages to Bangkok.  One of these lives unfolded before me; village childhood, move to Bangkok, boyfriend, unplanned child, story behind the name in the tattoo; discovering how her parents demand money and help in their market fish stand; how prostitution seemed her only choice, how her parents encourage it and degrade her for it all at the same time.  Given a solid mix of Asia duty to parents and low self-esteem she feels trapped. It’s no coincidence that two of her three friends are single moms with the stigma and restricted economic choice that goes with it.  They have their boyfriends from around the world sending them money, seeing them once or twice a year, it’s probably rare these amount to anything more than hope. These women who work as prostitutes became real to me, touched me, broke my heart.

On to part B…