Friday, January 26, 2007

From Bangsar to Pattaya

One night I was having coffee with a few friends at a 24-hour fast food outlet in Bangsar when an argument broke out at the table behind us. While it was not an intense argument, the subject of the conversation between a Chinese girl and her Caucasian companion was enough to get our attention and had us straining our ears to pick up some choice titbits. They were actually trying to determine when was the most appropriate time for a boy and girl to go to bed together. The boy obviously thought it would be a perfect enough ending to the first date while the girl save for repeated “NOs” did not put a time frame on when she was going to prove her love to him. A good guess would be that if he was patient enough, it would have to come after the “Ama, yum cha” and just before the “Honey, can you take out the garbage” .

I am in no way trying to discourage any Caucasian reading this from having a go at it on the first date while in KL or any other parts of Malaysia for that matter. By all means, go ahead. You have taken our rubber and tin. What’s a few more pounds of flesh? It was a good thing you didn’t know about our oil then, isn’t it? Otherwise, we may still be part of the good old British Empire singing God Save the Queen instead of Negara Ku.

At the risk of being branded a male chauvinist and much as I didn’t want to take any side, I would have to say in the above incident the man had every right to think the she was fair game. You have no business being out with a man at three in the morning if you are not about to put out. Maybe she was just trying to determine how sensitive a man he was. Yeah, right! At least now she knows. What made her think men, whether they are blond or otherwise, differ all that much from continent to continent and country to country especially at that hour of the morning? Tie a yellow sari round any old oak tree and whether we are white or black or brown, chances are we would chase it depending on the state of our hormones that day. It is in our nature, you may say. You have to forgive us just like you forgive dogs that chase cars. Hopefully the man have met with some success since then and if not had moved on to bigger conquests. If he had not, then he just isn’t looking hard enough or maybe just looking in the wrong watering holes. There are many damsels waiting for him to come over on a white horse (or some modern carriage equivalent) to rescue them from a less than satisfactory life. And for those in similar situations and need help urgently go get a hold of a book call Sarong Party Girls that give you quite an insight into the nature of the sarong, the party and the girls, albeit in Singapore. Just kind of imagine the Singapore in the book is Bangsar or Pattaya. The Thai seaside resort on the east coast of Thailand is one place where the worst of the east seems to find its equal from the west.

After landing in Bangkok not too long ago, I had to pay baht 2,000 for the airport limousine to take me to the seaside resort to the east of the Thai capital. I was supposed to meet up with a group and supervise the shooting of a documentary there. Checked into a hotel that was situated right in the heart of mini-skirt land. That certainly ensured that I was going to get free music way into the wee hours for the two nights in a row.

After meeting up with the group on the first night and shooting a dinner scene followed by a stroll down the walking street where all kinds of goods were sold, I made my way back to the hotel on foot. Much as I would have liked to hang around longer in order to pick up some new dance moves, my stomach was giving me first day blues and I had to rush back to my room in double time. Having found relief at last I could then head for my window and look out over the street below. The night was still young and angels who had lost their Charlies were trying to hawk a dream or a fantasy to the next lonely man who had travelled here in search of some form of adventure. And if you are white, you may be in for an extraordinary time. You are after all the ticket to a better life and future for the purveyor of the dreams themselves.

For the ultimate, and sometimes elusive, dream is to hook some Caucasian visiting the seaside resort and get out of the rat race. The shorter their miniskirts the better is their passport to a new life. In the process, you must forgive them if they have become more Caucasian than the white men they are chasing. The only thing Thai that remains is their love for somtam or papaya salad.

But the trouble with such romantic dreams is that you have to wake up sometime. Although they can always hope, most bargirl’s story do not have a fairy tale ending. Reality tends to hit you like a ferocious kick to the stomach. Most often, that uneasy feeling in the belly the morning after is the result of a fertilised egg. They can try to dream the newborn would someday go on to find fame and success as actors or singers if they look good enough. However, more often than not they just remain as illegitimate testimony to a dream unfulfilled. Some may go on to inherit their mothers’ profession, thereby ensuring the vicious cycle continues. The odd one may even get to live out their mother’s dream. A prince charming to take them away from their pitiful existence. What does it matter if he is three times your mother’s age? What if it is just an old white man trying to rekindle some of his lost youth?

It is a story played out in most of the major tourist spots of South East Asia – Pattaya, Phuket, Koh Samui, Bali, Penang or even Bangsar. The actors playing the part may change, but the stories seldom differ.