So by now, if you travel to Thailand, fall in love with a bargirl and lose everything, you certainly can’t say I didn’t warn you.
Excerpts:
"The besotted foreigner, usually white, who marries a go-go dancer half his age in Thailand usually discovers his wife has a Thai husband.
"The classic horror story told over and over in go-go bars as a tale of caution is the one where the go-go dancer has a Thai boyfriend and they have a sinister plan to kill the farang husband for his money. ‘This happens quite often in Pattaya. You read in the *Pattaya Mail * about a guy who falls off the balcony and the police call it a suicide. But the article mentions that the man has his hands tied behind his back and a black stocking over his head,’ Barrett relates.
"‘In New York City, where I lived for 14 years, prostitutes are these pathetic creatures who huddle in the cold at Holland Tunnel trying to catch the New Jersey guy going home after work to his wife who he is bored with. Those are hookers and they are not particularly friendly. It is not like that in Thailand. They are much like a girlfriend even if you pay her money. And she’ll wai [a respectful Thai greeting] you in the morning’.”
Dude, I don’t even know what to say. This gross old man goes to Thailand to find cheap prostitutes and is amazed when they take him for everything he’s got. Who knew! Women who are desperate enough to sell their asses to gross old white men are also desperate enough to steal from them, lie to them, and possibly even attempt to kill them! Amazing! Who would have thought it?
I wonder if there’s a reason he needs to pay desperate women to have sex with him. Hmm. It’s hovering on the tip of my tongue… what could it be… oh. Maybe it’s because he’s a nasty old jackass.
Yup, the only thing sadder than gross old men preying on the economic disparities of the third world for their sexual pleasure is when the gross old men convince themselves they are in love.
I think you’re confusing the author of the book (and long-term resident of Thailand) with the people he’s describing in his book. You can hate on him for defining feminazi as he has, but he’s not the one who’s been suckered by a bargirl.
Saw that thread title, and knew it must be from Siam Sam…
My life is rich in stories that relate to this phenomenon, but I don’t know how they all add up. Let me share just two vignettes:
A friend of mine (Vietnamese female, late 40s/early 50s, married to an American) escaped Vietnam at the end of the war because her aunt was a cook for an American NYT journalist, and she (a 15-year old girl) was helping her aunt when everyone had to evacuate. I guess the family took pity on her and arranged to bring her when they left; afterward she was passed from NYT family to family, staying mostly in the US with occasional foreign postings, and managing to graduate from high school and college in the US (while cooking and caring for the NYT family kids!) , then meeting and marrying her husband in the US. She is, in a word, a survivor.
She and her husband have lived in Indonesia for years. To this day, people ask her “so, what bar did you meet your husband in?”
Her stock answer: “Bar!?!? What bar!?!? I was underage when we met.”
Many years ago while living on Pohnpei, in the Federated States of Micronesia, I knew a great guy who was so geeky/shy he simply could NOT relate to females on an intellectual level - somehow they scared him into painful silence. He regularly visited prostitutes in the Philippines. Eventually, he fell in love with one and got engaged.
After the engagement, he arranged for her to visit Pohnpei, and she was going to attend a small party as his escort, that I too was attending.
Well, was I ever freaked out. A PHILIPPINA PROSTITUTE? How would I talk to her? Sure, I didn’t want to judge her, but a PROSTITUTE?!?! I worried how on earth I was going to make small talk.
Guess what, said prostitute was a lovely person. We had a wonderful conversation. It was no different from talking to anyone else you’ve just met at a party. That was years ago, and although we are not in constant touch, AFAIK she and her husband are still happily married.
Draw what conclusions, if any, you like from these stories. I know others that would probably illustrate the exact opposite conclusions.
I hope I don’t give the impression that I look down on these girls, because I don’t! And I am glad your friend found happiness with his little Filipina cutie and hope they still are together. But I’m afraid the tales of happiness in these unions are vastly dwarfed by the tales of woe, and my general advice to everyone is not to bet on winning the lottery with these girls; enjoying your time with them and moving on is almost always best.
It’s not all old guys either. Believe me, I spend a lot of time in the bars myself, and there are lots of young guys indulging. I was having a beer just last night in After Skool Bar in Soi Cowboy while what looked to be two university-age guys were off in the Naughty Boy Corner with their respective girls.
There’s also a sort of sex-worker NGO called the Empower Foundation. Their website is here. Acts as sort of a prostitutes’ union. In fact, I was going to put it in its own thread, but I’m having trouble getting it to load. That could be because of our crappy Internet service. Empower’s offices are appropriately located in the Patpong red-light district. Give the site a look.
P.S. on the Empower Foundation: Enough of its website has come up to see that it’s main street address is in Nonthaburi province, which is suburban Bangkok. Patpong is in central Bangkok; I guess that’s a branch field office there in Patpong.
A friend of mine’s husband left her for a Thai prostitute. It worked out especially well when he put all of his assets and money into the prostitute’s name so that my friend couldn’t touch them in the divorce settlement. And by that, I mean it worked out really well for the prostitute. You sign papers, I go buh-byes now…
Same man who gave my friend no fewer than five STD’s. When my friend asked him why he didn’t use a condom his answer was, “Well I did at first and when I didn’t catch anything I assumed she was clean”.
Yikes! I’d say your friend is MUCH better off without him.
There’s a good essay at the top of this page here on this topic by Stickman, the pseudonym of a local New Zealander of my acquaintance. He makes some very good points.
