My Conversation with a Thai Sex Worker: Mai Poon and the Guys Back Home

Arguably Bangkok’s most famous redlight district is a small street near the center of town called “Soi Cowboy” named after a famous club founded by an American known for his ten gallon hat. Soi Cowboy is an interesting place to be because you would never see so many obvious brothels in America, especially lined up next to each other. There are all types to choose from with establishments ranging from younger women, to more mature ladies, to women with natural bodies, to those with hundreds of dollars worth of work. You see children, many of whom you aren’t sure if they are working themselves or are simply visiting relatives. The area can be a bit overwhelming with workers fawning over you and attempting to size you up. Was I an African migrant? Was I perhaps French, or maybe someone from Latin America? Apparently your perceived origin and race dictate how much you’d be charged. As a gay man and one that appreciates but does not use sex workers, I found myself enjoying the people watching much more than I would enjoy the ladies. I ended up sitting outside the only “ladyboy” establishment on the street since they were at least a part of the LGBT community. One of the workers came out of the establishment and initially tried to offer me her services, but she instead decided to speak to me a bit more once she found out that I was a gay Black American, like off of television. What perpetually surprised me during my travels was the proliferation of African American culture worldwide, and as some of the few groups large and open enough to have a public LGBT culture, queer Americans, particularly Black queer American culture seems to have made its way to Asia as well.

To be completely honest, I didn’t actually get the lady’s name. She absolutely told me, but it was loud on the street and her accent was a bit thick. It started with a “M” and had “oon” in it so I’m going to just call her Mai Poon since that’s a pretty common name. Me and Mai talked for about 45 minutes about her life and my life. What’s it like being trans in Thailand and my thoughts about being a gay man in America. We found a good amount of similarities to be honest. She came out as trans to her family, and they weren’t particularly thrilled. Being trans in Thailand isn’t quite as taboo as it is in America, but it still isn’t seen as a positive. She’s from a smaller village near the coast, and her family goes along with the open lie that she’s in nursing school. They know what she does to make money, but because the money is so good, they seem to turn a blind eye to her profession. What surprised me most about her life is how much she makes working in Soi Cowboy. Apparently she makes many times the salary she’d make if she worked in a plastic factory near her home. She doesn’t particular like the work, but she doesn’t hate it either. She hasn’t gotten bottom surgery because she makes more if she still has her “little man”, and she tries to top to help prevent contracting HIV. She would prefer to actually work in the medical field, but discrimination is still rampant. Her profession is still illegal, but because of her status working in Soi Cowboy, the police don’t hassle her as much as they would other sex workers. She knows her life isn’t ideal but it is her best option for the hand she was dealt in life.

Dealing with what life has dealt is a common theme that I’ve come across during my travels with people telling me that they would rather be doing more respectable work, but sometimes those options just aren’t available. As Mai spoke casually about her life, I couldn’t help but draw the glaring similarities between her life and the life of so many corner drug dealers that I’ve met growing up. So much so that I had to remember to try to control my face and keep the conversation as light as possible. One thing that has always rubbed me the wrong way about the discourse around real life drug boys is that there seems to be this narrative that these young men wish to be working corners in every weather extreme with the constant threat of incarceration, death, or death of a loved one. This isn’t to say that many don’t enjoy their lifestyle, but all are pushed into that illicit vocation though factors outside of their control, much like Mai Poon. And while yes, some of these men could go work at McDonalds, and Mai could go work in the plastic factory, both these options can’t provide even a remotely similar quality of life granted to those born in more favorably common circumstances within their respective societies. Their baselines are so much lower than that of the average citizen that their vocations in illicit industries don’t come as a surprise to anyone.

Even before I met Mai, something that I’ve thought about my entire life is why do we allow people to be treated so poorly in society. The phrase “there’s enough sunshine for everyone” comes to mind. I believe that a society should be measured by how well it treats its most vulnerable citizens and in this respect, America and Thailand are strikingly similar. While America is seen as the bastion of Capitalistic expansion, Thai elites also have no qualm exploiting every Thai resource for the sake of economic expansion, this includes the quasi-legal status of Thailand’s sex industry, but who is it benefiting in the log run? Yes, Thailand makes a large amount of money in the sex tourism industry, but women like Mai don’t own the hotels, restaurants, cabs, and shops that her customers use. She’s the draw, but she sees the least of the profit that her work provides. Reminds me of a few industries back home.

Eventually Mai and I ended our conversation, I finished my drink, we hugged and she went back into the bar. I offered to pay her for her time, but she declined and that was that. To be honest, she was probably as excited to talk to a real life gay Black American as I was to talk to her. I have no illusions that she and I will speak again, but she gave me so much in our short conversation. Personally, I never used to put much thought into the plight of illicit workers outside of the U.S., but Mai made me acknowledge that similar systems affect those of us born into marginalized communities are much more similar than they are different. The likelihood of Mai or any random drug boy I’ve met reaching middle age happily and comfortably are both extremely small, both would rather lead an “average life”, both have been forced into their line of work by forces much larger than themselves, and even though they live in countries with very different economic scopes, their outlooks are so similar and that’s a shame. I hope with the new access so many peoples in marginalized communities have to gained in recent decades that we will begin to speak to each other more and continue to build a world where we can choose our comfort, and not let that comfort be dictated for forces that only look to use us while not acknowledging our humanity. But I suppose that’s a common dream for most of us.