Cloaked in Koozies
Pattaya.
A lot like Los Vegas if it were positioned on a beach; save the uber extravagant hotels, helicopter tours, The Palomino, and no gambling…that I know of. Wait, I take that back, I suppose one wouldn’t be inaccurate in saying that there is a very specific kind of “gambling” that occurs in these parts. That is, if one opts to partake in cruising the well worn streets for a little female companionship. Engaged in said past time, one may discover (way too late) that it’s actually male companionship that one has found. This, and there’s always that pesky “of-age” issue that could also prove a dubious gamble. “Mama always said hookers in Pattaya are like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get.”
Pattaya is also home to a Hard Rock Café (a favorite among chain-smoking, sun-scorched Europeans) so it’s kinda like Las Vegas in that way too. And as I’ve over stated in earlier accounts, it can get just as unbearably hot as the famed desert city, but with humidity to boot. This creates a perfect atmosphere for the nightly procession of scantily clad shes and he-shes and whatsies (only their clients no for sure) up and down the neon bathed streets. As the sun drops from it’s pink sky, sinking into the Gulf of Thailand; Pattaya comes alive, morphing into a place where dreams and nightmares bleed together, congealing into a gleaming menagerie that pummels even the most lucid brain into inebriation. Whew! Foreigners and locals step in time under undulating neon. Sugar infused Thai children play across the same pavement where ‘professional’ men and women vie for the precious dollar of every passing stranger. With inviting smiles and welcoming eyes, they beckon to every farang who dares meet this vibrant spirit face to face and journey into a heart that literally pulsates to heavy techno and rock beats pumped from the dozens of go-go clubs and bars whose open doors, like the mouth of a Venus-fly-trap, threaten to grab hold and never let go. And as in Vegas, it is money that makes this warped little world go round, in my mind beating out Vegas in a no-contest win for the title: City of Sin.
What I find so interesting, is the extreme juxtaposition between that of the countries culture; the modest, quiet, reserved, Buddhist nation- home to hundreds of Watts, wholly shrines and temples and that of it’s openly heathenistic social scenes. The infamous domicile of sex-tourism, transvestite cabarets, and aap op nuat (bathe-steam-message or Turkish bath houses.) It’s yet another example of Thailand’s physical manifestation of the eastern philosophy of Yin and Yang. We all find ourselves situated somewhere on the line between any number of extremes that in the mind’s eye inevitably forms a perfect circle. As humanity would have it, take any extreme far enough and sooner or later you find yourself on what appeared to be the polar opposite end. Philosophy aside, and not that I’m speaking from experience, but more of a way to wrap this thing up: a word of advice to the potential “sex-tourists” out there. Make sure you look closely at their hands, and check to see if they have a pronounced Adam’s apple. This is a pretty good gage of true sexual origins. Unless of course you love a good surprise, then it’s simply a question of who’s getting the next round of Singha. “One night in Bangkok” indeed.
A lot like Los Vegas if it were positioned on a beach; save the uber extravagant hotels, helicopter tours, The Palomino, and no gambling…that I know of. Wait, I take that back, I suppose one wouldn’t be inaccurate in saying that there is a very specific kind of “gambling” that occurs in these parts. That is, if one opts to partake in cruising the well worn streets for a little female companionship. Engaged in said past time, one may discover (way too late) that it’s actually male companionship that one has found. This, and there’s always that pesky “of-age” issue that could also prove a dubious gamble. “Mama always said hookers in Pattaya are like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get.”
Pattaya is also home to a Hard Rock Café (a favorite among chain-smoking, sun-scorched Europeans) so it’s kinda like Las Vegas in that way too. And as I’ve over stated in earlier accounts, it can get just as unbearably hot as the famed desert city, but with humidity to boot. This creates a perfect atmosphere for the nightly procession of scantily clad shes and he-shes and whatsies (only their clients no for sure) up and down the neon bathed streets. As the sun drops from it’s pink sky, sinking into the Gulf of Thailand; Pattaya comes alive, morphing into a place where dreams and nightmares bleed together, congealing into a gleaming menagerie that pummels even the most lucid brain into inebriation. Whew! Foreigners and locals step in time under undulating neon. Sugar infused Thai children play across the same pavement where ‘professional’ men and women vie for the precious dollar of every passing stranger. With inviting smiles and welcoming eyes, they beckon to every farang who dares meet this vibrant spirit face to face and journey into a heart that literally pulsates to heavy techno and rock beats pumped from the dozens of go-go clubs and bars whose open doors, like the mouth of a Venus-fly-trap, threaten to grab hold and never let go. And as in Vegas, it is money that makes this warped little world go round, in my mind beating out Vegas in a no-contest win for the title: City of Sin.
What I find so interesting, is the extreme juxtaposition between that of the countries culture; the modest, quiet, reserved, Buddhist nation- home to hundreds of Watts, wholly shrines and temples and that of it’s openly heathenistic social scenes. The infamous domicile of sex-tourism, transvestite cabarets, and aap op nuat (bathe-steam-message or Turkish bath houses.) It’s yet another example of Thailand’s physical manifestation of the eastern philosophy of Yin and Yang. We all find ourselves situated somewhere on the line between any number of extremes that in the mind’s eye inevitably forms a perfect circle. As humanity would have it, take any extreme far enough and sooner or later you find yourself on what appeared to be the polar opposite end. Philosophy aside, and not that I’m speaking from experience, but more of a way to wrap this thing up: a word of advice to the potential “sex-tourists” out there. Make sure you look closely at their hands, and check to see if they have a pronounced Adam’s apple. This is a pretty good gage of true sexual origins. Unless of course you love a good surprise, then it’s simply a question of who’s getting the next round of Singha. “One night in Bangkok” indeed.
posted by Joel at 9:14 AM
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