20 hours after departing San Francisco, I land in Bangkok, humidity slapping me in the face. It's midnight, and I have 8 hours until my flight departs to my final destination, so I choose to run to a hotel to get a couple hours sleep. Eerie feeling as I get to my room, as there was a "reminder notice" by my bed stating that "sexual exploitation of children is illegal." Ok, seriously...a reminder notice? I hadn't even been in Thailand for an hour at that point, and already I'm understanding the scope of the issue around sex tourism and exploitation that I only read about before.
I arrive in Chiang Mai safely, and check into my hotel -- have to say, accommodations were a tad better than NE Romania, but not by much -- cigarette ashes in my sheets, body odour on the towels (not mine), and a location by a local brothel. Day turned into dusk, and on the eve of my first working day at the center, I took a walk to the longest street market (I was told) in SE Asia. Night in Chiang Mai isn't pretty -- seedy, dirty, air thick with humidity. The open "acceptance" of exploitation was shocking. Sixty year old Western men with 15 year old Thai girls was the norm, and nobody seemed to notice or care. Street market ended up being nothing more than a reprisal of Slumdog Millionaire. Nestled between endless tables of scarves, trinkets and counterfeit goods, were blind boys singing for change, lines of disabled people begging for help, young mothers holding drugged babies begging for money, and young tribal girls dancing provocatively to Britney Spears. I suppose ignorance is bliss, since there were thousands of people passing by, not really seeming to notice. Le Parker Meridian shining high above the street, monks walking amongst us and invisible people everywhere. Week has hardly started, and my heart is already broken.
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