Another day in paradise. What can I say? Well, how about this:
We had our first virus-related death in Manila over the weekend. In what may or may not be related news, yesterday a “Chinese-looking” man collapsed on the sidewalk in Manila, and the passerby wouldn’t go near him. I about laughed out loud when I read that after the authorities arrived it turned out to just be a drunk Korean. Fun times!
When I was out surfing this morning I came across this article in Reason: “How the War on Sex Crushes Underprivileged Women”. It mirrors something I’ve been arguing for years–prostitution is not automatically sex trafficking, in fact, that is rarely the case from everything I’ve seen. Especially here in the Philippines. The “go-go” bars are dens of prostitution but I have never met anyone here who was not engaged in that profession by choice. The bars are always advertising for “dancers” and the pay is decent by local standards. Once hired, no one is forced to go with a customer and there are no repercussions for refusing to do so. In fact, I chuckled this morning when I read on one of the local forums about guys complaining the girls are asking for too much money for their puki. I chimed in with this:
Girls get to set their price subject to negotiation. It’s their body after all. Don’t like their final offer? Walk away. If everyone refused to pay more than 2,500 it wouldn’t be long before the price was 2,500. I’m not saying it will be easy. These highly educated bargirls are savvy negotiators. They’ve probably all read “The Art of the Deal”. Still, stand your ground. Or pay their price. One of those.
Anyway, periodically the police will shakedown a bar for bribes raid a bar and arrest the manager and mamasan for prostitution crimes. The girls are carted off to some shelter and a press release says they were “rescued”. Rescued from what? A job that enabled them to support their families (whether they went with customers or not)? And when the bars are closed down, those rescued girls wind up selling their wares from the street, without the comfort and protections (like weekly health checks) provided by the bars. I’m no fan of prostitution and rarely partake myself, but these adult women should be able to sell their ass-ets if they choose to do so. If a man can sell his body carrying bricks on his back for a living, a woman should be able to make money laying on her back. Fair is fair.
In other news, I made up a batch of chili yesterday.
Regular readers know that I’m no Kevin Kim–I don’t make anything from scratch. But living here in the PI I don’t always find my preferred brands of baking mixes. Last time I went shopping for a cornbread mix, this is what I found:
Things of interest from my walk include:
What was interesting about the sari-sari? Yeah, I walked by at least 50 of them this morning. But this one caught my eye because of the name. And now my mission will be to search until I find a store named “Mortis”. Hey, it’s something to strive for, right?
I’ve got the Hash this afternoon. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, so I’m sure there will be a mountain or two in my future. Coincidentally, Facebook reminded me that I was climbing mountains two years ago today as well:
Dance, they said
Life is only for the moment
The light is brief,
Don’t waste it.
The taste is sweet so taste it.
So I said I understand,
I’m dancing as fast as I can.
A mountain in your future, eh? How have your lungs been these past few weeks? You haven’t mentioned any respiratory complaints recently, so I assume you’re doing at least somewhat better.
The Rigor Store sells rigor, which is de rigueur.
The chili looks great!
Yes, I’m much better lung wise these days, thanks. Now I just have the old man aches and pains. Still better than the alternative.
Asking a Chinese friend to lie on the sidewalk while wearing a face mask would be an incredible sick prank right now, and a thought for which I apologize. This image, the Australian bush fires, and the current locust infestations should make us all concerned that the book of St John is upon us, but curiously have the effect of making me think the exact opposite.
Ah, the Book of John. My personal favorite! All I have to do is look in the mirror and I can see the end of days is coming!