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Published: November 24th 2008
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I spent this past weekend in shady, red-lit Pattaya, which is about an hour south of me (if you catch the right bus). You always hear about Pattaya—the kind of place that is almost whispered about; the kind of place you might not want to admit having gone to (according to Mike, one of our TEFL trainers).
I had vowed to myself that I would not go to Pattaya, that I had seen enough “red lights” in Patpong in Bangkok. I had heard that the beach wasn’t even that great, but then again sometimes it would be nice to have a closer beach option than Ban Phe/Ko Samet and Bang Saen, as noted earlier, is not a good enough substitute in my book.
Teachers Rick and Morven both confirmed that I would not like what Pattaya is all about, but that I could still have fun if I went with friends. And then the opportunity to do so came up this week. Sarah (from my TEFL group) and Kelsey (TEFL group before us), who have both decided to bail on TEFL and are traveling around for a few more weeks before going home to Canada and the U.S., respectively,
were going to head there on Friday, as well as Neil (also from the TEFL group before us). Morgan was also going to go, but didn’t arrive til Saturday afternoon, along with Dave and Kyle, also from the TEFL group before us. So I decided to meet up with the group on Friday night.
After the plan had been hatched, I talked to Teacher Nuan (Thai teacher with very good English) at school, and she said that she takes her daughter there once a month, and apparently Spice and Porsche go with their parents pretty often, so it couldn’t be THAT bad, right?
WRONG. Let me say, before anything else, that I did enjoy my time with the other TEFL-ers, as usual, and I also had some nice food, beach time, and a nice Thai massage, too. I guiltily-not-so-guiltily enjoyed Au Bon Pain and Subway while in Pattaya, but at least ended my trip with some delicious Indian curry at a local restaurant that played a constant stream of delightful Hindi music videos. But most parts of Pattaya are like some weird and filthy alternate universe where it is perfectly acceptable to be a pervy, ogling goon, a
place where anything and everything is for sale (at the right price).
Pattaya was just a fishing village in the 60s, but saw rapid development of its “services” when it became an official R&R spot for U.S. troops during the Vietnam War. Now it is a sprawling beach city, a sort of cross between Vegas and Amsterdam, but Thai-style (i.e. loads of Lady Boys, legitimate and not-so-legitimate massage places, Muay Thai boxing, etc.) There are water sports, golf courses, malls, tons of restaurants, and tons of prostitution.
We stayed at a decent, though flop-housey hotel close to the Walking Street (crazy night-life street with tattoo places, bars, clubs, and “go go bars”) in South Pattaya. On Friday night I met up with Sarah, Kelsey and Neil on Walking Street and we ended up at a bar with a Muay Thai boxing ring in the middle. The contenders were all kids, though, and the youngest seemed to be around 10 years of age to me. Fortunately it didn’t seem too violent, although with some of the older boys I could hear the sickening slap of their feet against the chests and stomachs of their opponents. After each match the
kids would come around to ask for tips. Sad, part one.
On Walking Street, there are tons of people from all over. Strangely I saw a number of farang families with small(ish) children. I cannot fathom ever bringing children to Pattaya. I can’t fathom bringing my parents to Pattaya, for that matter. There were also a number of middle-aged couples, which also seemed a little odd to me. Surely there are better places for a holiday. There are people (in various costumes and/or states of undress) holding signs outside of each establishment, touting drink specials, “pretty girls,” and various other enticements. There are seemingly 2 men per square meter offering to show you the way to a live sex show. Really.
I began to bust out the “mai aow ka” in earnest this weekend and it seemed to do the trick better than the English equivalent (“I don’t want that, thanks”).
There is a man (curiously) dressed as a cowboy, who draws a big crowd with his magic trick routine. There is a “living doll,” who is simultaneously so pretty and so eery in her portrayal that she looks like something out of a Stephen King movie.
There is a Thai Elvis-impersonator show that Sarah, Kelsey, and I managed to catch on Saturday night. Pretty decent, actually!
For some reason late at night is when these little monkey-like creatures and big snakes come out to pose for pictures with tourists. The monkey people actually push them in your face as you are walking along, which is exceedingly creepy in its abruptness and, I am assuming, a little startling to the monkey (or is it a lemur?), though they never seemed fazed. There are, as everywhere else in Thailand, about a million 7-Elevens, so that if you are trying to meet up with someone, you could say, “I’m outside the 7-Eleven,” but that would only be helpful if you could also add some additional landmarks.
On Saturday night, Kelsey, Sarah, and I went to meet up with the others and were shocked to find them inside a “go go.” I kept my head down in embarrassment on the way in, past a LOT of topless dancers. They had little armbands on with their assigned number. We stayed for one drink and then booked it out of there, leaving the other part of the group behind. We
reconvened with them later at a huge dance club just beyond the Walking Street. At the club we met a bunch of Russians, who seem to have strong numbers in Pattaya, for some reason. We also met some polo players from Malaysia and Argentina (and got to practice some Spanish for the first time since Sydney). It was fun to dance for a while before I realized that it was pretty late and I wanted to go to sleep!
Like all places that are filled with supposed glitz and glamour, which is really a thin disguise for broken dreams, unfulfilled emotional needs and desires, and desperation, I found it to be, above all, terribly sad and empty. I felt so melancholy for all those girls being exploited/exploiting themselves (because we do know that some of them are not being coerced). I even sometimes found myself, when not completely overcome with revulsion, feeling badly for the men there. Not the ones who are just there to have a good time and leave to go back to university or their wives or whatever, but the ones who were actually there thinking that they could find (and buy) real love or affection.
What about their lives caused them to be in such a place? What about the girls’ lives had caused them to come to this seedy career choice? Did some of them grow up in Pattaya and see it as a normal way of life or were they mostly transplants?
Our scuba instructor in Ko Chang, Për, had lived in Phuket for a few years with his Thai wife and child, before moving away. When I asked him why he left Phuket, he said that the sex tourism was too prevalent. What he didn’t say, but I took to be part of his meaning, was that he didn’t want his little girl to grow up in that environment. “The worst part,” he said, “is that you get USED to it and it starts to feel normal.” I understand in a way what he meant about becoming numbed to something over time, when it is part of your everyday life, though I remain confident that I will never achieve “normalcy” with Pattaya.
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Courtney
non-member comment
Hmm it does seem as bad as you made it sound, judging by the glaring neon coming from those pictures. I forgot about Perv saying that...and yes, it all makes sense now. Sad...