Howdy folks! I'm trying to post a new blog every couple of days so I'm back again with more things to tell you. But a few preliminary matters before I get into my latest stories. First, since it has only been a few days and I've mostly worked during those days I don't have too many stories to relate so hopefully this posting will be a little less long-winded than the others. Secondly, I've been getting some reader feedback which I greatly appreciate and will do my best to incorporate going forward. I'll try harder in the future to check my blogs for typos so it isn't so difficult to read and I'll do my best to be more descriptive about my work and other things instead of “yada yada yada-ing” over stuff like "ate dinner" as I've been doing. Finally, my grandfather was particularly interested in the beer choices over here so. Sadly, I haven't really dabbled too much in the beer over here as my many years living in the South and going to one of the quintessential Southern universities in the United States has instilled in me a healthy appreciation for only 2 main types of alcohol: bourbon and cheap beer. Thus, it is not that easy for me to opine on the tastiness of the potent potables in this land as I don't enjoy “good beer.” However, in the interest of keeping my readers content I will cover that in more thorough detail going forward and even forgo sipping on my preferred highballs to branch out into the world of beers, lagers, and meads available over here.
Moving on! So the last posting I put up had all my photos so far and the one prior covered the main points of the weekend so Monday it was back to the old human rights grind. This is normally an area where I'd “yada” right past but since you asked for it you can have the boring minutiae of my day! Everyday I wake up, shower, and then head to the office (AKA walk down the stairs). Then I spend the next few hours staring at my computer screen researching specific political prisoners, reading the UNHCR refugee handbook, studying refugee and asylum law, and reading stories about a lot of people who got the genetic shaft and were born into really crappy religious/political situations. Most days we have a meeting with at least 1 refugee and often several. In these meetings we basically discuss their personal situation, why they fled to Bangkok and where they are at in their application process so we can help them. Most of them have pretty unfortunate stories but they are the lucky ones. They have, so far, escaped the persecution of their country and aren't in detention in Bangkok.
The idea that these are the lucky ones is often a little depressing and keeps things in perspective. For a long time I've been very vocal about how lucky I am just as a human being. I was born a straight, white, relatively attractive/athletic/intelligent male in the United States to a middle class family with 2 parents who love the crap out of me with a sister who loves me even more. If life was a bowling alley then I started the match with the bumpers up on a 4 foot lane; I'm playing the game on easy mode and never has this been more apparent then over here where I'm meeting people who are living in squalor here because they must, whereas I'm doing it for vacation. I complain a decent amount about nothing in particular and sometimes I forget that even the right to complain isn't a given everywhere.
Sidebar: A demonstration. Last night, when I was attempting to see the scores of the World Cup games, I tried to go to ESPN.com only to find that the Thai government had blocked it. After some Google searching I found someone's Facebook status asking why it was blocked out to which a bunch of people responded that it had something to do with gambling ads on the site. However, one commenter replied that it is very normal for countries to block US websites like this for state stability purposes (listing off North Korea, China, Myanmar, and the Middle East as examples) and then said not to question current leadership. Whether he was sarcastically commenting or genuinely felt that way, the message is the same: free speech isn't necessarily free. End sidebar
This week in particular was depressing. Wednesday and Thursday a large group of escapees from Vietnam came in to the office to discuss their situation. Now, during the meetings I am not actually involved. I don't speak Vietnamese and having to stop every 2 minutes to clue me in would waste time which is at a premium over here. Instead I stay at my desk working and then after the meeting my boss, G, and I go over what was said and start reviewing their files. The people from this week were all Hmong Christians from Vietnam who fled out of fear of persecution, much like the men in the IDC I previously told you all about. However, these people brought with them much more viscerally disconcerting stories and evidence of why they fled. *Story since redacted for security reasons* Though I'm not allowed to go into detail about their stories, they are all varying degrees of horrible. And these are not isolate incidents. These are the stories I hear everyday.
But enough of the debbie downer stuff. Monday night, one of our co-workers who is now officially off the job and traveling South East Asia for fun returned to Bangkok from a trip to Phuket (where I am hopefully going this weekend for scuba!). So Miranda, her friend Mike and I all decided to go out to a bar and watch the Switzerland – Ecuador game that night and grab some dinner. I followed their lead and we ended up in the Patong area which has a high collection of strip-clubs/brothels and as a corollary a lot of tourists, ex-pats, and non-Thai food. We were looking for a good place to go watch the game and eat and ended up at a Mexican restaurant. I was a bit leery of eating Mexican abroad because when I did it with my study abroad group last summer in Austria it was legitimately one of the worst/best meals of my life. Worst because the food was borderline inedible and best because the whole event was so fantastically absurd I was in tears laughing the whole time. So with such a poor previous experience and without even the large group that made the Linz fiasco bearable, I had some serious trepidation. But again, anything that wasn't Pad Thai or Pad Grapow was a welcome change of pace. The food ended up being pretty okay actually and they have all you can eat Tacos and pie on Tuesdays and Thursdays so there is a high likelihood I will be venturing back there at some point for fish tacos.
Anyway, after eating Miranda wanted to go around to some of the seedier locations around us and was particularly interested in walking down the strip of gay clubs. It is only now occurring to me that I have not recounted any of the stories about the sketchier places in BKK so I suppose I should give a little background information before getting into the details. Bangkok has 2 main areas where tourists congregate and the sex industry is on full display to live up to the reputation Bangkok has garnered in the western world, Soi Cowboy and Pat Pong. These are the Red Light District Areas and are everything you'd imagine them to be. Harems of women hang outside the bars in matching, scantily clad uniforms to fit the theme of the bar/brothel and trying to literally pull in passing men. We didn't actually go inside any (byproduct of it being a group of girls and me being the only guy) but I'm very curious how strip-clubs work abroad. How are they different? What are the rules? It will require some anthropological research and investigation I think so I guess I've got to do it for science.
However, despite not going in any of them yet, I can tell you one way in which they are different, and I know this from walking around the areas some: they are all about the ping-pong shows. Now this is a family blog so I won't get into any specifics because that is not what my readership is about. (Truth be told I hesitated somewhat before even going into the Red Light District sections at all in the blog, but one of these stories is too good to pass up so I decided I'd run it.) So in the interest of decorum I'll just say that ping-pong shows are events held in the strip-clubs of Bangkok that show-case a very particular set of skills by the women who work there and the name is indicative of said skills. If you can't figure it out on your own, use the Google-machine if you really want to know. Anyway, these shows are apparently very popular as there is an army of hawkers out there trying to take you to the nearest show. They all carry lists of the types of things you can expect to see there and to get your attention that make popping noises with their mouths which is apparently the universal signal for these types of shows. And like all hawkers, they are the worst and basically unavoidable. Like a many headed hydra when you finally shake one off 2 more appear in his place, pop pop popping right in your ear.
So like I said, Miranda wanted to walk down the boulevard of gay strip joints and ladyboy clubs since we had already seen the wonder that was Soi Cowboy. Mike seemed a bit put off by it but I was cool with it so we mosied on over. Turns out that Mike had absolutely nothing to be concerned about as they payed him almost no attention at all. However after walking literally 3 steps into the alley I was mobbed by the guys outside of the first bar (doing the same job as the women at Soi Cowboy). I know I use hyperbole a lot and that it can create a boy-who-cried-wolf effect, but I'm speaking 100% truths here. There was an actual crowd of gay working men grabbing at me. Apparently blue eyes is like a big thing over here or something but it was actually hilarious in the absurdity of it all. And Mike and Miranda being such stand-up teammates just walked right on leaving me to have to force my way through the crowd like a running back shooting the gap. On gentleman was particularly adamant about me staying as he put a Kung-Fu death grip on my wrist and would not let go. I had to physically drag him 10 yards down the block while he was telling me that he loved me before I finally just had to peel back his thumb to get him to let go. I'm pretty sure he didn't actually love me though, he was just doing his best Pepe Le Pew impersonation. Fortunately I'm craftier than any skunk-cat has ever been and I eluded his advances, laughing my ass off the whole time. The rest of the block wasn't nearly as exciting as it was much shorter than the other strips and ended with much less fanfare. We didn't go in anywhere here but that was mostly my doing. I'm not averse to going to a ladyboy show or into gay strip-clubs. In fact the novelty of it might be rather fun. However, this was a Monday night where not a lot of people were out and all the strip shows are apparently big on pulling audience members up for interaction. The various “for instance”s I've heard about the types of interaction range from the mildly un-hygenic to the outright “hell no.” As a very clearly foreign male I would be a prime target for any show to get involved (which I'm not really down for) but judging from my entrance into gay alley, I might have been physically forced into a showcase role where anything could have happened. I would kind of like to go and see what they are all about but I need a bigger group to go with than 2 other people who clearly aren't going to help me if the dancers come a-callin. Maybe I can make some gay friends over here and tag a long one night.
Anywho that is all I've really got for this week. Last night Ian and I went back out to the park to establish court dominance again and this time we ran the other guys off the court. We held the court from our first game until they turned the lights off at the park (I tried to inform our Thai competitors that the park didn't turn off the lights, it was my fault because I shot the lights out on the court but they didn't get my awesome joke). We had a lot more success when the team decided to switch to man-to-man defense and we just all put the clamps down on our opponents. Just suffocating defense like you read about on ESPN. The rest of this week has been all work so I'm excited for the weekend. Looks like I'm going to play with baby tigers and stuff! WAHOO!
Thanks for reading. Keep telling me what you want to hear about and I'll keep listening.
Jed
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