I was talking to a girl in a bar last night.
She has two children. One 17-year-old who’s hoping to go to university. And a young daughter.
The daughter was born with a rare heart condition making her disabled. At the time, the mother was living in a very northern province in Isan.
She had no job, the Thai father had walked out, and she was left having to support not just herself, but her two children, one of whom needed – and still does – expensive medical care. Naturally, she had to provide for her own parents, too.
All of this without any government assistance.
So what did she do? In desperate need to care for her sick daughter, she borrowed from the bank.
She took bus journeys to hospitals across the region, to neighbouring cities, nearby provinces – all the while hoping and praying that she could get the medical care needed for her little girl.
All this was costing money. Thai hospitals aren’t cheap, especially when there’s a kid involved with a major heart complication.
When the banks stopped lending to her, she went to neighbours, the village chief, or whoever else could help her.
Soon enough she’d racked up debts of half-a-million to take care of her daughter and her family.
Finally, the wooden and corrugated iron hut where they lives – no flooring or locking doors – started to fall apart.
That was breaking point. She couldn’t afford the repair and the only option was to head to the bright lights of Bangkok to work the bars.
She’s a little stunner with an upper rack that gets most men drooling.
After two years of having her breasts sucked dry and her arse pounded by sweating, overweight tourists she’d not only sustained herself and her daughter, but she’d paid back half her debts.
In all this time she’d never taken a single day off.
She has now met a foreign man, who wants to move to Thailand and live with her. He offered to pay off her debts.
She declined his offer of financial help. Why?
”This is my problem, my family problem, from before I met him, it’s a different story,” she said.
Of course, she’ll be happy and in love to live with him. And he’ll be happy to take care of her, and help to cover fees for her children. And fair play to both of them. Better to have money being put to good use that sitting in a bank account earning interest for some yuppie in The City.
So why do I tell this story?
Well, firstly it’s to put a different perspective on bar girls. It’s easy to write them all off as grasping, greedy, lying slatterns. And sure, there are some juicy looking mansions in Isan built on the proceeds of vice, manipulation and lies.
But to put every Thai girl, or every bar in that category, is a fun joke (one I enjoy myself) – but it’s simply not true.
They all have their reasons for working the bars and being rogered by Westerners, Indians, Arabs, Chinese, Japanese (an easy 333 trick, I’m told) week in, week out, so they can have their palms crossed with silver.
Sure, some do it for greed. Some for necessity. And some because they have no other skills and don’t know anything else to do.
But they all have their own story.
And frankly, who could not admire the dedication of the woman I’ve described above? Someone that works every hour they can, serving drinks, talking, working tolerating the unhealthy, unattractive and unkind dregs of the sex tourism industry slobbering their unwashed mouths over their young bodies.
All of this for their family.
It’s a stark contrast to some of the ongoing situations in the west right now. Particularly in Britain where the left-leaning masses are upset that the government might stop free school meals for children.
”Oh, what about those in poverty, those children whose parents can’t afford to make them lunches.”
Give me a break. The UK, where health care is free, education is free, houses are free for the poor, and they are even given a weekly stipend, and have access to any other living necessity they need.. the UK basks is relative luxury.
And guilt-tripping socialists are getting upset on behalf of parents who are too lazy, or too selfish having spent their dole money, to put a sandwich and packet of crisps in a box each morning for their kids.
And that’s only on five of the seven days each week.
It makes me angry that these pampered, politically manipulative groups with loud voices, create these false narratives of poverty in the UK.
How I wish they could see real desperation and struggle where parents put their lives on the line without any support from the state in order to take care of their children.