Tricky Wondalund…

 

 

From the industrial setting of Chonburi province to the local flavor of Bang San beach, Lea drags me out to Pattaya for a night out on the town. Again, I speak of divine intervention. Foreign city, no particular agenda, I meet Lea, who has spent the last three years living in Cambodia, with some of the craziest stories about sleaze, sex, corruption and the high life. I believe the word is probably Serendipity that we meet.

 

Lea comments that if you want to make money, Pattaya is the place to be, screw Bangkok. It’s fast cash and dirty money. From the neon-lit strip malls, that house all sorts of brands from Starbucks to Mango, to the dingy back alley lanes that feature thuggish brutes playing open-air billards, Pattaya is a electro-clash mix of lights, dirt, sex and a trying sophistication. Kinda of when you are 15 years old and trying to act all adult, wearing these poorly fitted clothes, that’s Pattaya for you. Ill-fitting, poorly formed.

 

But what one cannot get over is the sense of desperation. The numerous white men with their Thai girls in tow. At the classy malls, these are settled Europeans who now speak fluent Thai, with Thai wife and kid in tow. On Walking Street, the epitome of sleaze and what Nat calls – “sin city”, the men are walking around grabbing women’s asses. Girls or ladyboys walk around in nothing but their lingerie. Nat laughs and says, ‘Where else in the world can you see people walking around in their underwear!?!?!?!” It’s an oddball scene. Army and sailor sorts float around, dragging skinny thai girls that don’t look older than 16 years old. There is awkward dancing and some body grabbing. Every club has sad looking women sitting out front, some are talking to weird white men, some are doing a sleepy form of bartop dancing. All this set against young children running around at 2am, selling neon glo-sticks and breakdancing in the streets. But what I don’t get – are the people selling roses. What would possess you to sell roses on a street where people go to pick up hookers? I mean, would you ever buy a rose for a hooker? Or toys for that matter? Would you blow your last pile of hard-earned cash buying a Doraemon? heh.

 

 

 

 

We swap sleaze stories and Nat laments how she constantly gets asked,” How much for short time?” Wow, the economic recession has really hit hard. She is upset that it’s almost impossible to be taken seriously in Pattaya and have a normal job. I completely understand. Pattaya attracts the very sort of human that is not interested in conversation, a high life, sophistication or personality. It’s highly transactional, it’s highly transient – one has to believe that not all these men act like jerks back in their home country. Lea hugs Nat in the middle of the streets, only to feel a huge hand grab her ass cheek. Such is the spirit of Pattaya. We all come here to behave badly. The next person who tells me they are spending the weekend in Pattaya will be treated with grave suspicion for sure.

 

One thing’s for sure, we are the only group of girls walking around. Everyone else is simply…coupled or waiting to hook up. There is something surreal about watching these girls flaunt their siliconed chest and staring lasciviously at these bald, white boys. It’s not just mating, it’s hunting. There is tons of gawking happening. Girls are huddling smiling at prospective men, men are amazed at all this attention and constant stream of girls walking up to them with gentle caresses, body pressed against hips. Pretty lurid. We laugh through it all, as girls with brave hearts do.

And to survive Pattaya in a well-adjusted manner does require a brave heart. Hiaks…the only way to get through it in one piece is to first get drunk at an Ice Bar. Like the decadence of any party town, the Ice Bar is a thai oddity, partying a la Finland or Sweden where the bar, the seats, the cups even are made of ice. I never really thought I would have to don a winter parka to head out drinking. But never say no to unlimited drinks! Nat is our bartender of choice and we get a stable stream of vodka shots. Aiaks!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I leave Pattaya and it is now 5am. It’s far too late and my mind is tired, in so many ways. There is a niggling sense of lost and not being sure what I had just experienced. Weird. Kinda like being hit by a truck but wondering what just happened. Maybe it’s coming face to face with human depravity. It can leave a bitter taste now that we have met and shook hands.