Who's exploiting who?

20^th Feb

The wind of change is blowing and good fortune returns once more. The dentist removed my stitches and after a lovely conversation discharged me yippee! I skip out of the hospital only pausing to book a flight ….my next destination Phuket!!

I leave Chiang Mai with a heavy heart as I really have grown to love this place. I say thank you and goodbye to the team at the guest house who kindly come to the entrance to wave me off. I board my tuk tuk....and it backfires loudly …we all burst into hysterical laughter…how embarrassing!! As I wave, the driver revs his engine... and to a second backfire we gather momentum and the Siriwan Guest House (my home for 12 days) soon disappears into the distance.

I reflect on my time here, which in the end was 3 times longer than I’d originally intended. However, I was incredibly comfortable here and this place penetrated my core somehow, I had a good time and take with me lots of happy memories.

I board my flight and the anxious excitement of the unknown rips trough my body, the recklessness and spontaneity of it all is seriously addictive.

I decide on a place called ‘Kamala Beach’ to the west of the island purely because it’s quieter and not so much of a party town as Patong (which is crazy mental)…I’m feeling too old for all that. I knew when I’d done my research I was pushing the limits of my £20 a night accommodation budget coming here, but remaining disciplined I find an affordable room (note* There were only 2 No. available options within my price bracket so my hopes weren’t desperately high for this place). I arrive as darkness falls and immediately I have a sense of unease. I don’t like it, the vibe, the area, the streets, the hotel, the welcome received (or not as the case was). Panic set in.

The room was on the ground floor and whilst the room itself was OK, it had a flimsy patio door, I think if I’d lent on would fall out. I try to appeal to the Thai girl at reception that it didn’t feel safe, she just smiled and said ‘is all OK madam’…I was getting nowhere. I have no choice but to accept my fate. Its only 6.30pm so I drop my main bag off and decide to take my valuable possessions in my little day ruck sack in search of beer to calm my nerves…this was to be my first in 10 days. I wander down the rat infested, sewage stinking dim lit streets until I reach the main road where civilisation greets me. I see a sign for an 'Aussie Bar' and head for that thinking its got to be a safe bet to sound the area out. 

I buy a ‘Chang’ beer ….ahh just what I need, it was like nectar ...ooh baby I’ve missed you! As I’m sitting on the bar stool clinging to my ruck sack like a Koala Bear to a eucalyptus tree, I knew I stuck out like a throbbing sore thumb. I scan the bar noticing a big group of over 50’s men taunting and being overly tactile with the young and gorgeous Thai waitress girls. There are a number of mature couples in the bar too, They all seem to know one another, It felt very ‘clicky’. I knew I was being observed and quickly a man tries to catch my attention with his facial expressions across the bar. I ignore him. He eventually comes over and introduces himself. “I’m Peter, the bar owner” he says in a strong Australian accent. He continues “I notice you’re looking a little shell shocked, I see it my duty do make sure your OK and ask If you need anything.?”. I appreciated this gesture and the effort on his part, I told him I’d just arrived.

Peter is 53, 5’6, bald (but wears a baseball cap), wears spectacles and has middle aged spread, just an ordinary but pleasant guy. He introduces me to his Thai partner ‘jill’ who is stunningly beautiful, size zero, stylish, as cute as a button, but has an intense stare which immediately let me know she’s as sharp as a knife. They assured me the area was completely safe and that no harm would come to me here. My ‘run away’ radar didn’t detect anything untoward here and I felt comforted by their words, so I stay.

In a short space of time Peter was telling me his life story (this often happens to me). He's originally from Tasmania and decided to end his successful career there 10 years ago, sell up and move to Thailand to run a bar.

The bar is Australian themed of course like ‘the walkabout bar’ we know which attracts many expats and what I’d call ‘misfits of society' (I know you know what I mean). He quite openly discusses the staff detailing each ones story, personality, strengths and weaknesses and the sex trade that inevitably goes hand in hand with the majority of bars in Thailand. I’ve not been out much after dark but all bars here appear to have a ‘red light’ party theme going on.

Peter said the girls choose for themselves whether they wish to make ‘extra money’ and chose with who and when they go. The girls keep all the money themselves (the bar clearly profits from the customers these ‘additional services’ attract). The only rule is that if its decided by ‘madam Jill’ the man is not right then without question it does not happen.

He spoke of looking out for the girls in a fatherly way (I didn’t feel the need to doubt him) and spoke of the realities of unwanted pregnancy, disease and violence they regularly face. At this point I felt a bit like Louis Threroux, fascinated by his story and keep questioning softly as he gives a very honest insight to a subject I have been observing and deliberating since my arrival in Thailand.

One thing that really captivated me was his adamance that these girls were victims of circumstance but they were certainly NOT victims. In his words… “Thai women are manipulative machines, emotionless and robotic. They are non sexual beings, that don’t get satisfaction from sex, they aren’t very good at it, they cannot kiss and see the act only as a means to provide. It means absolutely nothing to them”.

So I shouldn’t go there right… but couldn’t help myself asking about how his opinions affect his personal relationship with Jill. He continues “There is no physical relationship between us, it’s companionship only. We care for and are dedicated to one another but its essentially a business transaction.” He protested too much for me to accept he was happy with this arrangement, I could see the un-fulfillment and sorrow he was desperate to deny in his eyes….he’s lying to himself... and he’s not convincing me. I know he enjoyed our conversation, it was outside of his reality and clearly had more depth than he’d experienced in a long time. He thanked me for that. I finished a second beer, speaking with a few more of the friendly locals, gathered my things and disappeared into the night. I never return to the bar.

My observation prior to meeting Peter were that the gap between age, culture, religion and origin is surely too wide to be closed? I’ve sat on many adjacent table now to couples  like this who simply have no connection or communication between them. It seems the mid life crisis of the ageing man’s ego is met fiercely and is equally matched by the cold calculated emotionless machine. So who’s the prevailing winner here?….and who is exploiting who?

I completely accept and respect the lives and choices of others, but personally I would rather spend the rest of my life alone than pay for the privilege of ‘fake attention and empty love’.

 21^st February

Next day I head off in search of the beach and arrive after a pleasant 20minute walk. Everything appears different in the morning sunshine. The beach is quiet and the traders are setting up for a day of paragliding, jet skiing, stalls etc. Couples are having their wedding photo’s taken (ughh in the baking heat donning full wedding attire!) they spend hours trying to capture the perfect moment. The beach is a crescent moon of golden sand, whistling palm trees with clear waters that lick around my feet as I paddle along the shore. Traditional long tail boats float gracefully awaiting the first passengers of the day. The sun glows warmly and slowly rises.  It’s picture postcard, beautiful ...but as the day unfolds I realise it doesn’t matter how hard I try, I cannot connect with this place. For me Phuket is aimed at the foreign tourist looking for the luxurious annual pamper. The beach front is lined with five star hotels, overpriced food, glamour, massage and water sport opportunities for middle class families and romantic couples. It’s all a facade for the stinking, dirty reality that lies up the back alleys (where I’m currently staying!). This place is just wrong for me, and has a strikingly evident class divide. This is the first time I feel lonely… but I quickly recognise it’s the place making me feel this way. I need to move on.

   

Kamala Beach, Phuket

The next morning I put on my 'shell' (backpack) and head off for the local bus. This journey was the highlight of my time in Phuket. Carrying 20kg (14.5kg back 6 kg front) for a mile, sweating like a turkey on Christmas Eve….burnt to a crisp….cheeks like over ripened crinkled tomatoes and a forehead that resembled a bacon frazzle, I finally arrive at the bus stop. A Muslim lady greets me and confirms I’m in the right place. She proceeds… “The bus come when he want to…40 minute, 2 hours who knows….you look very hot?!” Funny really when I’m in shorts and “t’ and she’s sporting the full on burka. The bus (you can’t honestly call it that) eventually shows up consisting of a wooden ark on wheels ….Noah would have been proud. It was blue, no windows, doors (just completely open to atmosphere), AC, robustness or safety….just two outer benches and an inner central one for overspill. As time passes more passengers board, there are limbs and bodies everywhere…nose to nose…eyeball to eyeball…you could watch the pores of your fellow passenger drip sweat. The journey into old town Phuket from west to east coast took 1.45 hours and cost 40 baht (£0.91P) …. If I’d have caught a taxi it would have been 800 baht (£18.2 pounds)…Bringing my experience in Phuket to an extremely rewarding conclusion!

I’m now in old town Phuket (on the east coast of the island) which has links to all south islands….mmmm.... so Williams where to next????!!!!