So I sit here in my dorm room, listening to "Alice's Restaraunt", mulling over the very detatched Thanksgiving I just had. I say "detatched" because it really is just another day here in Thailand.
Today final project time started in earnest. Our group, who consists of myself, Alyssa, Pete, Stevie, Anne, and Tom, is working on the organization of a sort-of network of urban scavengers in Khon Kaen. Yesterday we met with P' Kovitt, an NGO working with slum-dwellers and the landfill community. (A note here: P'Kovitt is a person; activist in Thailand routinely introduce themselves as NGOs.) This morning, Kovitt came with us to two slum communities -- Theperak 1 and Nong Wang. Neither of these was the one I stayed at. So that means, I still haven't seen any of my former host families since we've parted ways, which is a little sad. Oh well, we'll see each other at the Human Rights Festival next month.
The purpose of the meetings this morning was to get communities interested in an organizational meeting this evening back at the office. Luckily, both Theperak and Nong Wang communities were enthusiastic about the meeting. They agreed to send representatives to the dinner and meeting.
After a rushed lunch, Anne and I tagged along with another project group working with the landfill community. Their project is really cool, as Alexandra explained to me. It involves making crafts out of non-recyclable garbage for the Human Rights Festival and doing a photo exhibit using the same model used in the movie "Born into Brothels." That model involves giving cameras to members of a community, teaching how to use them, holding photo critiques, and ending with not only neat photos, but a skill for the community members. Also accompanying us were two KKU students who have written a human rights report for the landfill community, showing the first draft to the community. Paw Kham and Mae Thong were there again and it was really cool seeing them again. It really struck me how long it was since we'd been there -- consequently how long we've been here in Thailand.
Also, even two and a half months later, the landfill, the shear amount of trash, strikes me.
Paw Kham seemed excited about the prospects that a network of scavengers could be, but wary. It seems they've been promised a bit too much in the past. Still, he agreed to come with other members.
We came back with four hours until the meeting, but there was lots to organize, and we were kept busy until five. Last minute disasters sprung up -- like our Ajaans freaking out about the number of people coming to the meeting, or reevaluation of goals. When six o'clock rolled around however, we were ready to go. As the members of the communities flowed into our parking lot, sitting down to eat, every one of us was nervous. How would it go?
Anne and I sat with Ajaan Ooh, our translator for the night, P'Kovitt, and several of the leaders to set out our objectives. Paw Sompat of Theperak 1 sat with us, displaying his dark-horse tendencies. He seems to think most often aloud, and has been known to ramble on a bit. From his rambling several good ideas, brimming with excitement, have stemmed.
The meeting went exceptionally well. Just about everyone seemed optimistic of the idea to form a network, and all were in support of it. At one point, when relating stories of being accosted by the police, it was pretty chaotic. Ajaan Ooh looked like she was having a hard time, translating the cacaphony of voices coming from all sides. Still, excitement caused this. This is really great and in line with our goals for the project. We intend that this project -- starting a network -- be the communities', not ours. Our role is that of facilitator of these conversations (mission accomplish...?) and to contribute something like a PowerPoint presentation, that the network can take to presentations to portray them and arm them with usable statistics.
The communities set up meetings in the future that we're planning on attending, to check where they're at and explain our progress to them. Next steps for tomorrow include figuring out this pretty daunting process ahead of us. You see, we're planning on carrying out the survey on our own -- but none of us has ever done this. Well, it should be interesting.
Tonight, leaving the meeting, we were excited. Let's not forget this intial wave of optimism, excitement, and energy -- even if a week's time finds me in the pits of frustration!
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Project Planning
We're in the throws of project planning now. Yesterday was a brainstorm/idea-bubbling session. A real long one. We basically came up with a lot of ideas that interested us, that fit with our vision, and then pain-stakingly whittled them down to about ten ideas to go through the project steering committee and staff. I was having a hard time finding anything really to latch onto. I suppose the many, many days of nine to ten-hour days of meetings is taking its toll on my interest level.
When I went home last night, I focused on putting together a photo-essay Kelsey commissioned for the newsletter. Originally it was supposed to deal with us as group members and our personal experience here in Thailand, but it morphed into a visual representation/illustration of our vision -- the same vision I posted two days ago. Sitting there in my room, listening to some Radiohead and editing, I found some peace that I'd been lacking. I'll try to post the fruits of my labor soon.
Coming out of that, I felt excellent. The fact that I then heard we didn't need to be anywhere until 12:30 the next afternoon helped too to lift my mood.
Today we came into the classroom where the staff presented the elligible projects to us. They weren't exactly what we had submitted. Much of them were linked to ENGAGE, the loose network of CIEE Thailand allumni, and had to do with networking. I suppose that's a little more realistic to try to accomplish in the short three weeks we're allotted for project time than other proposals. We then were told to latch onto our primary project. Whether we wanted to then dedicate ourselves to more than one project would be up to us individually.
The one I'm working on now is having to do with the scavengers that we studied back in early September at the landfill. The landfill was such a powerful unit, because many of our projects focus on it. This one has to do with linking the scavengers to international and national organizations. There's talk of organizing someone from Thailand to go to a conference on this in Bogota, Columbia next spring. A woman from India who has set up a network like this wants to make Khon Kaen the pilot city for an urban scavenger organization in Thailand. This is the beginning of an idea with huge potential, so it's pretty exciting.
I'm hoping to take this issue back when I return to the States. I know it's effecting my internship-search. Everything's pretty nebulous on our end right now, but soon that will fall into place.
Tonight is "Thanksgiving" for us. The Sofitel, the four-star hotel downtown, hosts a Thanksgiving buffet for all the ex-pat Americans. We've gotten CIEE to pay for our meal, but the catch is we have to do it a few days ahead of time -- I suppose to beat the rush. So happy (super-early) Thanksgiving! Hail the Giant Pumpkin!
When I went home last night, I focused on putting together a photo-essay Kelsey commissioned for the newsletter. Originally it was supposed to deal with us as group members and our personal experience here in Thailand, but it morphed into a visual representation/illustration of our vision -- the same vision I posted two days ago. Sitting there in my room, listening to some Radiohead and editing, I found some peace that I'd been lacking. I'll try to post the fruits of my labor soon.
Coming out of that, I felt excellent. The fact that I then heard we didn't need to be anywhere until 12:30 the next afternoon helped too to lift my mood.
Today we came into the classroom where the staff presented the elligible projects to us. They weren't exactly what we had submitted. Much of them were linked to ENGAGE, the loose network of CIEE Thailand allumni, and had to do with networking. I suppose that's a little more realistic to try to accomplish in the short three weeks we're allotted for project time than other proposals. We then were told to latch onto our primary project. Whether we wanted to then dedicate ourselves to more than one project would be up to us individually.
The one I'm working on now is having to do with the scavengers that we studied back in early September at the landfill. The landfill was such a powerful unit, because many of our projects focus on it. This one has to do with linking the scavengers to international and national organizations. There's talk of organizing someone from Thailand to go to a conference on this in Bogota, Columbia next spring. A woman from India who has set up a network like this wants to make Khon Kaen the pilot city for an urban scavenger organization in Thailand. This is the beginning of an idea with huge potential, so it's pretty exciting.
I'm hoping to take this issue back when I return to the States. I know it's effecting my internship-search. Everything's pretty nebulous on our end right now, but soon that will fall into place.
Tonight is "Thanksgiving" for us. The Sofitel, the four-star hotel downtown, hosts a Thanksgiving buffet for all the ex-pat Americans. We've gotten CIEE to pay for our meal, but the catch is we have to do it a few days ahead of time -- I suppose to beat the rush. So happy (super-early) Thanksgiving! Hail the Giant Pumpkin!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Vision.
Today's ten hours of meetings resulted in the draft of our group's vision. This is to shape our final projects, but was crafted like a sort of manifesto. Ten hours of crafting this was in no way fun. We haggled over words, compromise, tone, everything.
I view this struggle we've been having to try to get everyone's voices heard while maintaining coherency, specificity, and personality as a reflection of broader systems of democracy. What's sustaining me through all these meetings is the thought that if we can't make this work here -- where we all have access, education, shared touchstones, and some semblance of equality -- when will this broad sense of consensus and democracy ever work?
Without further ado, our vision for fall 2007:
We are a group of individuals from diverse backgrounds, uniting in a place that is not our own. We have come to see that issues parallel each other and transcend borders. We recognize the interconnectedness of local and global struggles. We acknowledge that our local actions have implications on a global scale and accept the responsibility that entails.
As a group of global citizens and life-long students, we cannot deny the problems in the world. We see the deterioration of traditions and the exploitation of natural resources by systems that limit choice. We see political, social and economic institutions that fail to fulfill their responsibilities to represent people and the environment. As a result, people’s voices are ignored and their knowledge and local resources are commodified. We see a system that is a collection of all of us -- our behavior, and decisions. There is a disconnect between the consumer, corporation and producer.
Every one of us is an actor in this system that violates the rights of humans and the environment. It’s not just those at the bottom who are hurt. Issues are not black and white; there is never one cause and never one solution.
Our newly formed relationships have reinforced these realizations:
• Globalization has perpetuated unsustainable management of our finite resources.
• By remaining indifferent we legitimize a system that routinely violates the rights of individuals and communities.
• As consumers our choices impact both the distribution of resources and the lives of people.
Our Guiding Principles:
To make positive change in the world we need to act on our firmly held principles of nonviolence, human dignity, and consciousness of the earth.
An effective movement is dynamic and responsive to the changing needs and beliefs of the world. It must be owned by everyone so that it dies with no one. As equals we recognize the potential for everyone to be leaders.
We believe in a world where government policies are made in conjunction with the people.
As individuals who have adopted these principles as the core of our consciousness, we resolve to fight for them on all levels: within ourselves, among one another, in larger structures, and with respect for the earth. Only through strong relationships, which build global solidarity, can sustainable and just change be achieved.
Our Goals:
• Create widespread consciousness of local and global issues.
• Build a larger global network through the cultivation of personal relationships.
• Understand and support necessary mechanisms for communication between all members of society.
• Make informed and responsible decisions by understanding our roles within the system.
• Reduce our impact on the earth through our lifestyle choices.
• Advocate for improved transparency in the current system.
Activism begins with awareness.
We believe in a world where no one is overlooked. We will act deliberately and with foresight to achieve these goals.
We are the people. We have the power to be heard.
In related news, I've heard about this communist bar in downtown Khon Kaen that I am excited to explore sometime soon. I hear they play Songs for Life -- incidentally the subject of my radio documentary.
In solidarity, comrads.
PS - I've been meaning to post this for a while, but here is the link to my group's second newsletter of the semester. I didn't contribute any writings this time, but my photography is featured throughout.
http://ciee.pfacs.googlepages.com/newsletter2-fall2007-highquality.pdf
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Gender in the City
Friday. Two very different exchanges. Two different experiences of the struggles people face regarding gender. At the fairly frustrating check-in in the morning we tried and kind of failed to prepare for SWING exchange. SWING -- or Service Workers' IN Group -- is a group of male sex workers in Bangkok bonding together to provide support and education about sex work. After the exchange with the volunteers and workers, we were to tour the sex clubs, and many of us were nervous. Some worried about seeing things they didn't want to, that they would feel really uncomfortable. Whitney, I remember, at breakfast told me she worried that she would get visibly uncomfortable, possibly offending someone. Others were fascinated by the subject matter -- studying this was the primary reason Shayne and others even came here to Thailand -- but were afraid that when faced with everything they had only studied in theory, all their beliefs would be proven wrong. My feelings were kind of mixed. I was most worried that it would turn into a voyeuristic show on my part; that I would just want to see the "worst they got" just to see how much I could take, and lose sight of the actual issues and people behind those issues.
With that weighing on our heads we loaded up into the vans in the cramped parking garage of the Viengtai Hotel. During the hour drive to the next exchange we chatted and tried to clear strip shows and sex workers from our minds. This exchange was to be something, um... rather in a different vein.
We met and spoke with Dhammananda, Thailand's first fully-ordained female monk at her home in a monastary in the Bangkok suburbs. The monastary is called Songdhammakalyani Monastary and houses not only herself, but three other female monks, several novices, a small school, and devoted laypeople. It's a beautiful wat complex, more subdued artistically than other monastaries we've seen.
The issue of female monkhood in Thailand is such an issue for several reasons, but most importantly because of the sangha (or monk-clergy)'s tie to the state. The monks that you see in Thailand, all decked out in bright orange robes, are under the control (at least somewhat) of the government. Buddha declared that both women and men could become monks, but the ordination of women monks has to be overseen by women monks. Before the venerable Dhammananda, Thailand had no lineage of female monks, so it could not ordain women. In the 1920s, a progressive monk tried to ordain his two daughters, but the supreme patriarch of Buddhism here declared that illegal under Thai Buddhist faith (Thammayut and Mahanikaya sects), disrobing and jailing the monks. Since then, women have only been allowed to be "nuns" who don't get as much support. While it gets you karma points if you feed monks, feeding nuns gets you jack.
Until Dhammananda came around.
She's this reallly awesome lady. When she enters the room, she eminates an aura of cheerful peace. Before ordination in 2003, she was a professor at Thammasat University (Bangkok's second most-popular University) and had her own talk show. As a Buddhist scholar, she is well-versed in the faith and speaks fluent English. She talks about her former life, and it's difficult to imagine that less than ten years ago, Dhammananda was another Thai woman. As she tells it, one day as she was putting on her make-up in the morning, she stopped, looked in the mirror, and asked herself what she was doing? From that day on, she started on the path to monkhood. Now her head is shaved and she wears the orange robes of monkhood -- albeit a darker orange color than the men we've seen.
We talked about much during the three-hour exchange. One thing that struck me was her talk about forming a support group. Dhammananda likened it to washing potatos. You gather potatos of all shapes, put them in a bucket with water, and stir. As you stir faster, the motion gets faster, sometimes too faster for individual potatos. The motion gets too much for one, and pop! Out of the bucket it flies! "If a potato jumps out of the bucket, it rots away," she said. So communities really need to watch out for their own, I guess. This is a hard thing to hear now, seeing as our own group often is pulling away, wanting to jump out of that bucket. We can't just let those lost potatos rot; we're all here together, whether we like it or not.
I'm enjoying learning more about interpretations of the Buddhist faith -- both in its social activism and its downfalls. Such cool ideas are worth hearing about, even if you don't subscribe to the beliefs. "Talk about today. Talk about now."
I left feeling much better, cheerful, relaxed. Ajaan Dii took a Flat Stanley picture with us all (I'm cursing myself for not having my camera handy!) that his friend's small son in North Carolina sent him. That kid will win the coolness contest at his school's show and tell for sure.
Coming to the monastary, the van ride took about thirty minutes. Leaving several hours later, it took at least two hours. Bangkok's traffic is brutal, snail-slow gridlock. At one point, stuck in an unmoving caravan for fifteen minutes, Ajaan Dii walked out of his van to ours and told us we would be late for the SWING exchange. "This is once in a lifetime traffic!" he exclaimed proudly. Indeed.
Several hours later we arrived in Patpong, the seedy red-light district. Well, one of the seedy red-light districts of Bangkok. The main one at least. With bar names like "Ball Club" and "Pussy Galore", these clubs don't beat around the bush. SWING's headquarters is a tiny office, up five flights of a seedy office building in the heart of the bar scene. The elevator didn't go all the way up to the fifth floor, so as we climbed the last flight of stairs, we walked by a group of women sex workers putting on their make-up for the evening and chatting. The office is cheerfully decorated -- bright posters about safe sex practices and simple English posters adorn the walls.
The staff was smiley and eager to meet us. P'Thon, the only woman, is the project's coordinator. She graduated with a drama degree and wanted to get involved with drama work. She got interested in the annual show that EMPOWER puts on. EMPOWER works with female sex workers, as opposed to SWING. Thon helped start SWING when male sex workers kept wanting to come to the programs offered for women. They follow the same basic model. SWING is a community-based organization, which means that it's run almost entirely by former sex-workers. It offers a cocktail of activities, counseling, English classes, sex-education, "edutainment", and outreach work, as well as being on of the few place to reliably collect sex worker demographic data.
They specified the term "service workers" in the organization's title, because that's what they want to be seen as -- offering a service. If they can get sex work categorized under the labor law, this will allow sex workers to get the same rights under the government as factory workers. For a job that docks you pay if you skip a day, having things like paid vacation and health care is damn essential.
We heard some of the staff's stories of how they came to be involved in SWING. All the men had worked as sex workers in the bars. One thing that was suprising was how many of them had higher education. P'Tiem, a graduate of Thammasaat University in Bangkok in information technology, had a job in the IT sector, but was fired because his boss wasn't comfortable with Tiem's homosexuality. While sending out his resume, Tiem started working as a waiter, then tried out sex work when the pay wasn't sustainable. He did that for a few years until, like something out of an O Henry story, he accidentally left his resume in the disc drive at SWING's office. He's been working there ever since. Small and impecably-dressed, it's not hard to imagine him in classes.
Another staff members have faced discrimination against transgender. After a botched Botox injection to the face, she was left with a sagging face and money drained because of multiple attempts to fix it. Patpong is always there for those who know how to knock.
One thing that struck me was the intensity of community felt there. Sometimes the support group takes a break from the English lessons, or safe-sex workshops and just goes out to a movie or to dinner together. It becomes, in the truest sense, a support group because it's built upon genuine relationships. As P'Thon said, "we are all human. This is our family."
We broke into smaller groups of students, accompanied by a translater (Ajaan DIi for us), and a SWING staff member. They took us to a male and a female bar. It was nice to have someone experienced with the ways of Patpong to guide us down the close, garishly-lit streets. With all the loud touts around, promising exciting shows of all kinds, it becomes kind of necessary to know where you're going.
The male bar was up a narrow,red-lit, carpeted stairwell. The bar owner seemed to know our guide and friendly greeted him while we were lead to our seats in the front row. I couldn't help catching a glimpse of the men in the audience. Mostly older men, about 60-40 farang vs Asian. Some already had much younger men as companions. Some just sat alone in the dimly-lit room. Earlier as a group, we had discussed non-judgement -- not only of the sex-workers, but of their clientelle. Still, when faced with it, it's hard to really digest.
The show started. Off to the side, a red light came on a shower scene, with two naked men lathering up. Their routine (because that's what it was) was a highly-choreographed dance of intimacy. It was like someone going through the motions. This show was pretty hard-core with not only strippers, but full-nudity and intercourse. Watching made me feel really uncomfortable, not only because this isn't something I encounter everyday, but because it really makes me reexamine love and sex in a whole new way. To have something we think of as so personal, so tied to romance, just acted out like a play felt... strange. I don't know still exactly how I feel about it. Having our guide there was incredibly helpful. We got to ask questions throughout the show. For example, the two men having sex with each other a few feet away from us we learned are active members of SWING and nothing more than good friends and collegues outside of work. In fact, a majority of the men who work at such bars are straight. It really is just a job for them.
The part of the evening that brought home the business side of the industry was right before we left. All the "available companions" stood onstage, wearing tight, white briefs with a number pinned onto it. There they stood, showing off their goods, slowly rotating their formation so potential customers could check them out. It reminded me of a car showroom. That's what really disturbed me the most because of its dehumanizing aspects. To their customers, these boys are products. Ah, capitalism, shine your light down on us.
Moving onto the women's bar, there was a marked difference. Whereas the men's show had felt more serious about its work, the women's bar has a sense of lightheartedness. When they aren't dancing or doing tricks (no, not turning tricks) onstage, the girls walk around among the spectators. Some men -- once again a lot of creepy farang -- buy them drinks (how you make a deal here), but if they don't, the girls seem fine joking among themselves. One who sat within earshot kept calling up to her collegues onstage, while they responded with giggles or retorts of their own. The girls' set-up is a rotation of stripper show and "tricks" like ping-pong show, or blowing out candles, or smoking cigarettes, or writing with a permanant marker -- all done with a vagina.
Tang, a worker, sat down next to Christie and me. We bought her a drink so we could talk. It turns out, most of the girls who worked their come from Isaan, traditionally the poorest region of Thailand. Unlike the guys, who we found were more likely to have higher education, the girls will work more likely for survival or to send money back home. Tang pointed to one girl, sitting by the bar heckling her friend. "She's from Khon Kaen too," Tang said. The Khon Kaen woman stopped talking to her friend as the music ended, and climbed up onstage, removing her bathrobe. She was totally naked, except for a pair of socks she wore under her heels. Walking around in heels all day is tough no matter what profession you do. Holding a marker in her vagina, she squatted over a paper and wrote the word "Hello" in English.
Tang left about ten minutes later, after we shot the breeze about her family; she had to go dance. Later, I saw her flirting with a farang couple. I found her to say goodbye. Going to these clubs is expensive. You are required to buy at least one drink, but when they're 200 Baht ($7ish) for the least expensive ones, it adds up really fast.
I'm really glad I've gotten this experience. Sex work isn't pretty, and I still don't exactly know how I feel about the industry. Thon says, "everyone has sex. It just depends on sex for free or sex for sale." While I see the truth that, I can't really support an industry so essentially dehumanizing. In the end, I feel it is most important to see the humans behind the machine, the people who fuel the industry's very existence.
It was a very interesting day of gender difference, indeed.
With that weighing on our heads we loaded up into the vans in the cramped parking garage of the Viengtai Hotel. During the hour drive to the next exchange we chatted and tried to clear strip shows and sex workers from our minds. This exchange was to be something, um... rather in a different vein.
We met and spoke with Dhammananda, Thailand's first fully-ordained female monk at her home in a monastary in the Bangkok suburbs. The monastary is called Songdhammakalyani Monastary and houses not only herself, but three other female monks, several novices, a small school, and devoted laypeople. It's a beautiful wat complex, more subdued artistically than other monastaries we've seen.
The issue of female monkhood in Thailand is such an issue for several reasons, but most importantly because of the sangha (or monk-clergy)'s tie to the state. The monks that you see in Thailand, all decked out in bright orange robes, are under the control (at least somewhat) of the government. Buddha declared that both women and men could become monks, but the ordination of women monks has to be overseen by women monks. Before the venerable Dhammananda, Thailand had no lineage of female monks, so it could not ordain women. In the 1920s, a progressive monk tried to ordain his two daughters, but the supreme patriarch of Buddhism here declared that illegal under Thai Buddhist faith (Thammayut and Mahanikaya sects), disrobing and jailing the monks. Since then, women have only been allowed to be "nuns" who don't get as much support. While it gets you karma points if you feed monks, feeding nuns gets you jack.
Until Dhammananda came around.
She's this reallly awesome lady. When she enters the room, she eminates an aura of cheerful peace. Before ordination in 2003, she was a professor at Thammasat University (Bangkok's second most-popular University) and had her own talk show. As a Buddhist scholar, she is well-versed in the faith and speaks fluent English. She talks about her former life, and it's difficult to imagine that less than ten years ago, Dhammananda was another Thai woman. As she tells it, one day as she was putting on her make-up in the morning, she stopped, looked in the mirror, and asked herself what she was doing? From that day on, she started on the path to monkhood. Now her head is shaved and she wears the orange robes of monkhood -- albeit a darker orange color than the men we've seen.
We talked about much during the three-hour exchange. One thing that struck me was her talk about forming a support group. Dhammananda likened it to washing potatos. You gather potatos of all shapes, put them in a bucket with water, and stir. As you stir faster, the motion gets faster, sometimes too faster for individual potatos. The motion gets too much for one, and pop! Out of the bucket it flies! "If a potato jumps out of the bucket, it rots away," she said. So communities really need to watch out for their own, I guess. This is a hard thing to hear now, seeing as our own group often is pulling away, wanting to jump out of that bucket. We can't just let those lost potatos rot; we're all here together, whether we like it or not.
I'm enjoying learning more about interpretations of the Buddhist faith -- both in its social activism and its downfalls. Such cool ideas are worth hearing about, even if you don't subscribe to the beliefs. "Talk about today. Talk about now."
I left feeling much better, cheerful, relaxed. Ajaan Dii took a Flat Stanley picture with us all (I'm cursing myself for not having my camera handy!) that his friend's small son in North Carolina sent him. That kid will win the coolness contest at his school's show and tell for sure.
Coming to the monastary, the van ride took about thirty minutes. Leaving several hours later, it took at least two hours. Bangkok's traffic is brutal, snail-slow gridlock. At one point, stuck in an unmoving caravan for fifteen minutes, Ajaan Dii walked out of his van to ours and told us we would be late for the SWING exchange. "This is once in a lifetime traffic!" he exclaimed proudly. Indeed.
Several hours later we arrived in Patpong, the seedy red-light district. Well, one of the seedy red-light districts of Bangkok. The main one at least. With bar names like "Ball Club" and "Pussy Galore", these clubs don't beat around the bush. SWING's headquarters is a tiny office, up five flights of a seedy office building in the heart of the bar scene. The elevator didn't go all the way up to the fifth floor, so as we climbed the last flight of stairs, we walked by a group of women sex workers putting on their make-up for the evening and chatting. The office is cheerfully decorated -- bright posters about safe sex practices and simple English posters adorn the walls.
The staff was smiley and eager to meet us. P'Thon, the only woman, is the project's coordinator. She graduated with a drama degree and wanted to get involved with drama work. She got interested in the annual show that EMPOWER puts on. EMPOWER works with female sex workers, as opposed to SWING. Thon helped start SWING when male sex workers kept wanting to come to the programs offered for women. They follow the same basic model. SWING is a community-based organization, which means that it's run almost entirely by former sex-workers. It offers a cocktail of activities, counseling, English classes, sex-education, "edutainment", and outreach work, as well as being on of the few place to reliably collect sex worker demographic data.
They specified the term "service workers" in the organization's title, because that's what they want to be seen as -- offering a service. If they can get sex work categorized under the labor law, this will allow sex workers to get the same rights under the government as factory workers. For a job that docks you pay if you skip a day, having things like paid vacation and health care is damn essential.
We heard some of the staff's stories of how they came to be involved in SWING. All the men had worked as sex workers in the bars. One thing that was suprising was how many of them had higher education. P'Tiem, a graduate of Thammasaat University in Bangkok in information technology, had a job in the IT sector, but was fired because his boss wasn't comfortable with Tiem's homosexuality. While sending out his resume, Tiem started working as a waiter, then tried out sex work when the pay wasn't sustainable. He did that for a few years until, like something out of an O Henry story, he accidentally left his resume in the disc drive at SWING's office. He's been working there ever since. Small and impecably-dressed, it's not hard to imagine him in classes.
Another staff members have faced discrimination against transgender. After a botched Botox injection to the face, she was left with a sagging face and money drained because of multiple attempts to fix it. Patpong is always there for those who know how to knock.
One thing that struck me was the intensity of community felt there. Sometimes the support group takes a break from the English lessons, or safe-sex workshops and just goes out to a movie or to dinner together. It becomes, in the truest sense, a support group because it's built upon genuine relationships. As P'Thon said, "we are all human. This is our family."
We broke into smaller groups of students, accompanied by a translater (Ajaan DIi for us), and a SWING staff member. They took us to a male and a female bar. It was nice to have someone experienced with the ways of Patpong to guide us down the close, garishly-lit streets. With all the loud touts around, promising exciting shows of all kinds, it becomes kind of necessary to know where you're going.
The male bar was up a narrow,red-lit, carpeted stairwell. The bar owner seemed to know our guide and friendly greeted him while we were lead to our seats in the front row. I couldn't help catching a glimpse of the men in the audience. Mostly older men, about 60-40 farang vs Asian. Some already had much younger men as companions. Some just sat alone in the dimly-lit room. Earlier as a group, we had discussed non-judgement -- not only of the sex-workers, but of their clientelle. Still, when faced with it, it's hard to really digest.
The show started. Off to the side, a red light came on a shower scene, with two naked men lathering up. Their routine (because that's what it was) was a highly-choreographed dance of intimacy. It was like someone going through the motions. This show was pretty hard-core with not only strippers, but full-nudity and intercourse. Watching made me feel really uncomfortable, not only because this isn't something I encounter everyday, but because it really makes me reexamine love and sex in a whole new way. To have something we think of as so personal, so tied to romance, just acted out like a play felt... strange. I don't know still exactly how I feel about it. Having our guide there was incredibly helpful. We got to ask questions throughout the show. For example, the two men having sex with each other a few feet away from us we learned are active members of SWING and nothing more than good friends and collegues outside of work. In fact, a majority of the men who work at such bars are straight. It really is just a job for them.
The part of the evening that brought home the business side of the industry was right before we left. All the "available companions" stood onstage, wearing tight, white briefs with a number pinned onto it. There they stood, showing off their goods, slowly rotating their formation so potential customers could check them out. It reminded me of a car showroom. That's what really disturbed me the most because of its dehumanizing aspects. To their customers, these boys are products. Ah, capitalism, shine your light down on us.
Moving onto the women's bar, there was a marked difference. Whereas the men's show had felt more serious about its work, the women's bar has a sense of lightheartedness. When they aren't dancing or doing tricks (no, not turning tricks) onstage, the girls walk around among the spectators. Some men -- once again a lot of creepy farang -- buy them drinks (how you make a deal here), but if they don't, the girls seem fine joking among themselves. One who sat within earshot kept calling up to her collegues onstage, while they responded with giggles or retorts of their own. The girls' set-up is a rotation of stripper show and "tricks" like ping-pong show, or blowing out candles, or smoking cigarettes, or writing with a permanant marker -- all done with a vagina.
Tang, a worker, sat down next to Christie and me. We bought her a drink so we could talk. It turns out, most of the girls who worked their come from Isaan, traditionally the poorest region of Thailand. Unlike the guys, who we found were more likely to have higher education, the girls will work more likely for survival or to send money back home. Tang pointed to one girl, sitting by the bar heckling her friend. "She's from Khon Kaen too," Tang said. The Khon Kaen woman stopped talking to her friend as the music ended, and climbed up onstage, removing her bathrobe. She was totally naked, except for a pair of socks she wore under her heels. Walking around in heels all day is tough no matter what profession you do. Holding a marker in her vagina, she squatted over a paper and wrote the word "Hello" in English.
Tang left about ten minutes later, after we shot the breeze about her family; she had to go dance. Later, I saw her flirting with a farang couple. I found her to say goodbye. Going to these clubs is expensive. You are required to buy at least one drink, but when they're 200 Baht ($7ish) for the least expensive ones, it adds up really fast.
I'm really glad I've gotten this experience. Sex work isn't pretty, and I still don't exactly know how I feel about the industry. Thon says, "everyone has sex. It just depends on sex for free or sex for sale." While I see the truth that, I can't really support an industry so essentially dehumanizing. In the end, I feel it is most important to see the humans behind the machine, the people who fuel the industry's very existence.
It was a very interesting day of gender difference, indeed.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Bangkok
Today was day two of our four-day Bangkok trip. Unit five focuses on people's movements and trends, so we've come here to the capital, the other "city of angels", to meet and exchange with several NGOs, government representatives, and personalities. Take yesterday, for example. We met with this amazing social critic, Sulak Sivaraksa. He is a seventy-four year old man who has written prolifically on Thai-ness, socially-aware Buddhism, and life. Twice he has been charged with les mageste (or criticizing the king, a serious charge here, where one must love the monarchy by law); twice he has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.
And we got to question him and get his insight.
But that all was yesterday.
Today we had an exchange in the morning with Jon Ungpakorn, an activist and national chair of NGO-CORD, the coordinating organization in Thailand of the country's NGOs. He not only has amazing insight into organizing and facillitating all these different bodies, but he has a personal history of activism and social awareness. His father founded one of the major Bangkok universities (I forget... I think Thamasaht), and Jon was educated abroad. When he returned in the early '70s, Thailand's student revolt -- and the resulting bloody reaction from the regime -- was going on. He got involved with the students, and worked with many of the early NGOs emerging in the eighties.
Like many of the "wise old men" we meet, he not only had a fascinating history, but has insight into the current situations here in Thailand. He gave advice as to how we, as socially-interested students and individuals, can continue to be so. After the sessions, I grabbed the voice recorder I borrowed from Pete to get his comments on record for my project. My role this unit is so-call "unit production." Basically, I do a project this unit. I'm doing a radio documentary on the Thai protest songs that resulted out of the above-mentioned students' movement of the 19070s -- plang pua chi wit ("Songs for life"). Watch out Ira Glass. I'm excited to be improving my interview skills, plus I hope to be able to play this on the radio for What the Folk (my college radio folk show) next semester.
You know, despite everything the Khao San Road represents in Bangkok -- the garish lights, consumerism, and tourist trash -- you have to hand it to them for the aray of good, cheap vegetarian food. At a tucked-away Israli restaurant, I dined on falafel, as Sasha, Kevin and I discussed what we've seen here and where our group's at. Our group has decided to have a "group vision" to guide our final projects. Last night we started forming that vision, and now it looks something like a manifesto. It's exciting to think how our ideas shape the world. Little Che Guveras rest inside each heart, I guess.
viva la revolution.
Post lunch, the vans battled through the treacherous Bangkok traffic to the National Human Rights Commissioner's office. The woman, Sunee Chaiyarose, seems really cool and well-informed, but I was mentally a little checked-out from the whole proceedings. I just remember though, that the room was overly-air conditioned. I could see city-scape from the skyscraper's windows. It reminded me of DC in the winter. Sigh.
Decha -- adviser, activist, and friend of the program -- met a few of us at a wat downtown after the session. His mother died yesterday. CIEE, I suppose in the spirit of friendship, was one of the hosts at the funeral. We as students, representatives of the program, were to pay respect as hosts. We entered the wat. The casket was at the front of the room along with at least twenty huge bouquets, wreaths of flowers. In front of the casket was a small table with incense burning on it. The visitors wore black, so our street clothes looked slightly out of place. However, it wasn't disrespectful.
From my understanding, a Thai funeral is different from an American one. Alejandro, at the slum homestay, arrived the day after a member of the family died. He was invited to the funeral and describes it as a celebration of life, not a mouring of death. He said no one cried, except the man's little niece in the corner. Thai's readily invite outsiders like us students.
We lined up to pay respect. First we waied to the Buddha image, three times as is customary. Then we, kneeling before the coffin, lit sticks of incense together. We briefly waied the coffin. Returning to the rest of the congregation, they passed out refreshments -- cough drops, hard candies and water. The monks, wearing their orange robes, entered and sat on their raised platform to the side. They would begin cycles of chanting that lasted a total of about thirty-five minutes, five minutes each. Each time they began chanting, everyone held the wai position -- kind of like a prayer position in the Christian church.
It's strange thinking of this view of death. I guess I don't fully understand it; I still have only seen it as an outsider. Watching Decha sit silently, still-ly with the rest of us, he was impossible to read. Same thing for his younger sister and father. I started thinking of why the world developed funeral rights. If a loved-one dies, your anchors are cut in a way and I guess it would be easy to just go crazy doing nothing. These strange death rituals we have are a way of having a pre-defined path, having something definite and concrete to do to guide the devastated.
It's late now. Alyssa, Pete, Anne and I have been wandering around the Khao San Road the past few hours after dinner, and I hadn't realized the time until I sat down here at this internet cafe. I'll wrap up now. Tomorrow we have a late night potentially. We speak with another Nobel nominee, the female monk Dhammananda, in the morning, and in the evening we're speaking with sex-workers' NGO as well as touring various bars. It promises to be another experience.
Good night.
And we got to question him and get his insight.
But that all was yesterday.
Today we had an exchange in the morning with Jon Ungpakorn, an activist and national chair of NGO-CORD, the coordinating organization in Thailand of the country's NGOs. He not only has amazing insight into organizing and facillitating all these different bodies, but he has a personal history of activism and social awareness. His father founded one of the major Bangkok universities (I forget... I think Thamasaht), and Jon was educated abroad. When he returned in the early '70s, Thailand's student revolt -- and the resulting bloody reaction from the regime -- was going on. He got involved with the students, and worked with many of the early NGOs emerging in the eighties.
Like many of the "wise old men" we meet, he not only had a fascinating history, but has insight into the current situations here in Thailand. He gave advice as to how we, as socially-interested students and individuals, can continue to be so. After the sessions, I grabbed the voice recorder I borrowed from Pete to get his comments on record for my project. My role this unit is so-call "unit production." Basically, I do a project this unit. I'm doing a radio documentary on the Thai protest songs that resulted out of the above-mentioned students' movement of the 19070s -- plang pua chi wit ("Songs for life"). Watch out Ira Glass. I'm excited to be improving my interview skills, plus I hope to be able to play this on the radio for What the Folk (my college radio folk show) next semester.
You know, despite everything the Khao San Road represents in Bangkok -- the garish lights, consumerism, and tourist trash -- you have to hand it to them for the aray of good, cheap vegetarian food. At a tucked-away Israli restaurant, I dined on falafel, as Sasha, Kevin and I discussed what we've seen here and where our group's at. Our group has decided to have a "group vision" to guide our final projects. Last night we started forming that vision, and now it looks something like a manifesto. It's exciting to think how our ideas shape the world. Little Che Guveras rest inside each heart, I guess.
viva la revolution.
Post lunch, the vans battled through the treacherous Bangkok traffic to the National Human Rights Commissioner's office. The woman, Sunee Chaiyarose, seems really cool and well-informed, but I was mentally a little checked-out from the whole proceedings. I just remember though, that the room was overly-air conditioned. I could see city-scape from the skyscraper's windows. It reminded me of DC in the winter. Sigh.
Decha -- adviser, activist, and friend of the program -- met a few of us at a wat downtown after the session. His mother died yesterday. CIEE, I suppose in the spirit of friendship, was one of the hosts at the funeral. We as students, representatives of the program, were to pay respect as hosts. We entered the wat. The casket was at the front of the room along with at least twenty huge bouquets, wreaths of flowers. In front of the casket was a small table with incense burning on it. The visitors wore black, so our street clothes looked slightly out of place. However, it wasn't disrespectful.
From my understanding, a Thai funeral is different from an American one. Alejandro, at the slum homestay, arrived the day after a member of the family died. He was invited to the funeral and describes it as a celebration of life, not a mouring of death. He said no one cried, except the man's little niece in the corner. Thai's readily invite outsiders like us students.
We lined up to pay respect. First we waied to the Buddha image, three times as is customary. Then we, kneeling before the coffin, lit sticks of incense together. We briefly waied the coffin. Returning to the rest of the congregation, they passed out refreshments -- cough drops, hard candies and water. The monks, wearing their orange robes, entered and sat on their raised platform to the side. They would begin cycles of chanting that lasted a total of about thirty-five minutes, five minutes each. Each time they began chanting, everyone held the wai position -- kind of like a prayer position in the Christian church.
It's strange thinking of this view of death. I guess I don't fully understand it; I still have only seen it as an outsider. Watching Decha sit silently, still-ly with the rest of us, he was impossible to read. Same thing for his younger sister and father. I started thinking of why the world developed funeral rights. If a loved-one dies, your anchors are cut in a way and I guess it would be easy to just go crazy doing nothing. These strange death rituals we have are a way of having a pre-defined path, having something definite and concrete to do to guide the devastated.
It's late now. Alyssa, Pete, Anne and I have been wandering around the Khao San Road the past few hours after dinner, and I hadn't realized the time until I sat down here at this internet cafe. I'll wrap up now. Tomorrow we have a late night potentially. We speak with another Nobel nominee, the female monk Dhammananda, in the morning, and in the evening we're speaking with sex-workers' NGO as well as touring various bars. It promises to be another experience.
Good night.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Vacation time to get away
So this week was my fall break. I just got back this morning from the adventure that it was. Gather round, children, and you shall hear of the week-long trip of Abigail.
First, let me introduce the players:
(from right to left: Anne Kirkner, Gill, Christie, Anne Sheldon, and Kevin)
Our group all peeled off around mid-afternoon on Saturday. It was after our Thai final and presentation of our final Thai projects. My group -- who included Alyssa, Kelly, Christie and Whitney -- made a video parody of the Wizard of Oz. We swept the popular vote, which I'm pretty proud of. If we get the video up on YouTube, I'll post a link. Until then, just know it was life-changingly funny and heart-warming. And mostly in Thai. Our prize promises to be a dinner with our Ajaans (professors).
After a mid-afternoon drink with the gang, I finished packing and headed off to the bus station. All six of us piled in for what proved to be an eleven-hour bus ride. It was advertised as a twelve-hour trip, but I suppose we lucked out there. My seat was next to Anne Sheldon, and we had a fine time, zonked out like we were. Anne Kirkner and Gill behind us, were not so lucky. The airconditioner dripped on them throughout the entire journey, and their position in the back of the bus made reclining difficult.
We drove through the night, ending in Chiang Mai around eight in the morning. Chiang Mai is one of the biggest cities in Thailand, the center of the north. Saying it's a big city, however, doesn't really necessitate comparison to Bangkok. Bangkok is a metropolis; Chiang Mai's importance comes as a regional center, historical monument, and marketplace. It's still really beautiful, but overrun by farang (foreigners). I haven't seen or heard this much English spoken outside of us students since Bangkok. Strange.
Renting a songtaew (minibus) to the guest house was easy. The drivers all line up on the parking lot and come up to you, asking, "Where you going? You want a tuk-tuk? You want a songtaew?" Useful when you need a ride. Overbearing when you are just enjoying walking. This transportation hawking was to be a common theme throughout our Chiang Mai adventures. Usually we responded in Thai.
The guest house was clean and simple, but centrally-located in the old city -- a real plus. Gap's House, as it was called, was only a half-hour's walk away from the bus station to Doi Suthep, Chiang Mai's mountain temple. After dropping off our bags, we took a leisurely walk to the station, admiring wats and monuments along the way. One of Chiang Mai's most famous monuments, the Three Kings Monument, is on the way. Although we hummed the Christmas carol, that's not actually what it's refering to; this references three ancient kings of South-East Asia.
Doi Suthep lies up a twenty-minute, winding mountain road with breath-taking views. Honestly, the ride alone is probably worth the trip. The north of Thailand is dotted with mountains, each more beautiful than the last. Where the temple is, swarms of tourists -- farang and Thai alike -- fill up the parking lot, and with them come the locals hawking their wares. You could buy a wide aray of products up on that lonely parking lot -- anything from fruit to masks to hilltribe souveniers.
Like many mountain temples, the climb up the naga (snake) stais is the first - pardon the pun - step. Once at the top, the wat complex shines of gold, clammers with conversation, music, and advertisement. At first, we circled the outside, where you can see the city and valley, surrounded by hazey mountains. After that, we entered the inner temples. You are supposed to walk clock-wise around the central, gleaming gold spires. Along the way, there are oodles of Buddhas, shrines, and donation boxes for pilgrims. On one side, there were pots of oil with wicks burning. If you pour oil into each pot with a ladel, it is supposed to mean long life will follow you. I did it, so I expect now to live past eighty.
We met a woman originally from Laos, now living in New York City, visiting the temple for the first time. She was fun with her New York accent and white sneakers, usually claimed by Americans everywhere. We started off speaking Thai to her, but she was far too wise for our skeletal Thai, countering with her significantly more fleshed-out English. You win here, superior language skills.
We stopped the songtaew by Chiang Mai University, choosing to walk the last mile and a half. Probably some of the motivation for this, honestly was the various and sundry cafes, each promising different cuisines from all over the world. That's one thing about the food here. I love Thai food, it's more that I'm accoustumed to more of a variety of food. Well, after this week I am satisfied to eat Thai food and only Thai food to my heart's content, after filling my belly with delicious pasteries, fresh coffees, pastas, baked bread, and falafel. And plus, next week we're going to Bangkok, so we are guarenteed some sort of Western cookery at our disposal.
That evening, we made our way back through the night market, where various hilltribes sell wares. The night market is bustling as always -- even moreso than here in Khon Kaen. Our practicing Thai with the vendors paid off -- literally and figuratively. I was able to barter 150 Baht off of a wall-hanging (fun!) and we met some nifty people, including a drink saleslady who works with organic agricultural NGOs in the north!
I've been thinking lately, especially in conjunction with my exploration of the North, that a CIEE Khon Kaen program would tranfer really well to the North of Thailand. They are dealing with many of the same issues as Isaan, namely natural resource loss, cultural erosion, and struggles with the government. The North has a huge issue with tourism, noteably dealing with the hilltribe villages and letting foreigners treat their culture like a "living museum." It brings up really cool issues with tourism, sustainable tourism, responsible tourism, and frankly elitist tourism. Plus the north is hella pretty.
More coming. Organic farms. Backpacker. Mountain roads. Hippies!
What more could you ever need?
First, let me introduce the players:
(from right to left: Anne Kirkner, Gill, Christie, Anne Sheldon, and Kevin)
Our group all peeled off around mid-afternoon on Saturday. It was after our Thai final and presentation of our final Thai projects. My group -- who included Alyssa, Kelly, Christie and Whitney -- made a video parody of the Wizard of Oz. We swept the popular vote, which I'm pretty proud of. If we get the video up on YouTube, I'll post a link. Until then, just know it was life-changingly funny and heart-warming. And mostly in Thai. Our prize promises to be a dinner with our Ajaans (professors).
After a mid-afternoon drink with the gang, I finished packing and headed off to the bus station. All six of us piled in for what proved to be an eleven-hour bus ride. It was advertised as a twelve-hour trip, but I suppose we lucked out there. My seat was next to Anne Sheldon, and we had a fine time, zonked out like we were. Anne Kirkner and Gill behind us, were not so lucky. The airconditioner dripped on them throughout the entire journey, and their position in the back of the bus made reclining difficult.
We drove through the night, ending in Chiang Mai around eight in the morning. Chiang Mai is one of the biggest cities in Thailand, the center of the north. Saying it's a big city, however, doesn't really necessitate comparison to Bangkok. Bangkok is a metropolis; Chiang Mai's importance comes as a regional center, historical monument, and marketplace. It's still really beautiful, but overrun by farang (foreigners). I haven't seen or heard this much English spoken outside of us students since Bangkok. Strange.
Renting a songtaew (minibus) to the guest house was easy. The drivers all line up on the parking lot and come up to you, asking, "Where you going? You want a tuk-tuk? You want a songtaew?" Useful when you need a ride. Overbearing when you are just enjoying walking. This transportation hawking was to be a common theme throughout our Chiang Mai adventures. Usually we responded in Thai.
The guest house was clean and simple, but centrally-located in the old city -- a real plus. Gap's House, as it was called, was only a half-hour's walk away from the bus station to Doi Suthep, Chiang Mai's mountain temple. After dropping off our bags, we took a leisurely walk to the station, admiring wats and monuments along the way. One of Chiang Mai's most famous monuments, the Three Kings Monument, is on the way. Although we hummed the Christmas carol, that's not actually what it's refering to; this references three ancient kings of South-East Asia.
Doi Suthep lies up a twenty-minute, winding mountain road with breath-taking views. Honestly, the ride alone is probably worth the trip. The north of Thailand is dotted with mountains, each more beautiful than the last. Where the temple is, swarms of tourists -- farang and Thai alike -- fill up the parking lot, and with them come the locals hawking their wares. You could buy a wide aray of products up on that lonely parking lot -- anything from fruit to masks to hilltribe souveniers.
Like many mountain temples, the climb up the naga (snake) stais is the first - pardon the pun - step. Once at the top, the wat complex shines of gold, clammers with conversation, music, and advertisement. At first, we circled the outside, where you can see the city and valley, surrounded by hazey mountains. After that, we entered the inner temples. You are supposed to walk clock-wise around the central, gleaming gold spires. Along the way, there are oodles of Buddhas, shrines, and donation boxes for pilgrims. On one side, there were pots of oil with wicks burning. If you pour oil into each pot with a ladel, it is supposed to mean long life will follow you. I did it, so I expect now to live past eighty.
We met a woman originally from Laos, now living in New York City, visiting the temple for the first time. She was fun with her New York accent and white sneakers, usually claimed by Americans everywhere. We started off speaking Thai to her, but she was far too wise for our skeletal Thai, countering with her significantly more fleshed-out English. You win here, superior language skills.
We stopped the songtaew by Chiang Mai University, choosing to walk the last mile and a half. Probably some of the motivation for this, honestly was the various and sundry cafes, each promising different cuisines from all over the world. That's one thing about the food here. I love Thai food, it's more that I'm accoustumed to more of a variety of food. Well, after this week I am satisfied to eat Thai food and only Thai food to my heart's content, after filling my belly with delicious pasteries, fresh coffees, pastas, baked bread, and falafel. And plus, next week we're going to Bangkok, so we are guarenteed some sort of Western cookery at our disposal.
That evening, we made our way back through the night market, where various hilltribes sell wares. The night market is bustling as always -- even moreso than here in Khon Kaen. Our practicing Thai with the vendors paid off -- literally and figuratively. I was able to barter 150 Baht off of a wall-hanging (fun!) and we met some nifty people, including a drink saleslady who works with organic agricultural NGOs in the north!
I've been thinking lately, especially in conjunction with my exploration of the North, that a CIEE Khon Kaen program would tranfer really well to the North of Thailand. They are dealing with many of the same issues as Isaan, namely natural resource loss, cultural erosion, and struggles with the government. The North has a huge issue with tourism, noteably dealing with the hilltribe villages and letting foreigners treat their culture like a "living museum." It brings up really cool issues with tourism, sustainable tourism, responsible tourism, and frankly elitist tourism. Plus the north is hella pretty.
More coming. Organic farms. Backpacker. Mountain roads. Hippies!
What more could you ever need?
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