SEX IN DEPTH My big, fat Triad wedding
By William Sparrow
BANGKOK - If it's your job to report on Asia's sex industry, suffice it say
that it's not too uncommon to encounter some extremely strange bedfellows. When
you find yourself in Hong Kong things are, of course, no different. But here
the local sex industry is pervaded by the subtle and omnipresent influence of
the Chinese organized crime syndicate known as the Triads.
That said, I shouldn't have been so surprised to find a story where I certainly
wasn't looking for one ...
Most evenings after finishing work I would make my way to the city's Wan Chai
district, better known as the primary red-light
district, for a quiet drink. It was early and the bar was nearly empty.
In just a few hours it would be teeming with hundreds of girls - mostly from
Thailand, but some from the Philippines - and gweilos (foreigners) all
drinking with the girls. But now there were only a few girls and a couple of
older Chinese guys. The music was playing softly and I was enjoying a drink and
reading in peace. I'd have one or two, I thought, then head home early.
That was the plan when a cute little Korean girl came bouncing over to get
friendly.
Sensing I didn't want to chat too much, she took another approach. "So what are
you reading?" she asked while tentatively reaching out to see the book I was
reading, Dragon Syndicates. She read the cover and squealed, "Oh,
pictures."
She flipped through the pictures of all types of gangster photos - think Al
Capone-type stuff - but all about Chinese Triad gangs, symbols, high-ranking
historical figures, etc. She stopped on a known Triad temple located somewhere
in Hong Kong.
"I think I know this temple! I don't think it is far from here," she said, then
asked, "Do you know where this is?"
The caption didn't list the district, so I said, "I don't know, it doesn't
say."
With this she slumped a bit, murmured something, then showing determination
looked up at the Chinese bartender and asked him if he knew where the temple
was, holding out the book to him.
The bartender took the book and studied the photo for a second, then looked up
at her and then me. He thumbed a few pages back in the photo section, then a
few pages forward. Without a word he turned on his heel and stepped to the
other side of the bar where he placed the book in front of the largest Chinese
fellow. "Uh oh,", I said to myself. The Korean girl looked at me quizzically.
The older gentlemen flipped through the pages, finally asking the bartender a
question. He answered with a slight nod indicated my direction. The old Chinese
guy glanced up briefly, met my eyes, then peered back down at the book. After a
moment he said something to the bartender who nodded and walked off. With that
the Chinese man stood, walked around the bar and slammed the book down in front
of me, still open to the page with the temple.
"You want to know about this temple?" he asked somewhat forcefully. When I said
nothing, he continued, "It is in Sheung Wan. I don't know why a man would want
to come into a bar like this, with beautiful women, and read trash like this.
Don't bring this back here again," he said and stalked back to his seat where
he glared at me once more before returning to his drink and conversation with
his friends.
An awkward silence ensued; I was shell-shocked until I heard the Korean girl
whisper, "sorry."
I ordered another drink, trying to be nonchalant, but didn't dare take up
reading the book again.
Perhaps this should have put me off this bar, but I am not easily deterred, and
as I said I liked the bar. Over the following weeks I continued to go back and
read - but of course not the Dragon Syndicates book.
On one such evening I looked up from my book and found the old Chinese guy
looking at me with a playful furrow on his brow. He straightened up and looked
questioningly at the book I was reading, which I lifted to show the cover and
assure him it was a different book. He smiled, nodded and lifted his glass in
toast. I reciprocated.
Strangely, in the coming weeks a sort of cold camaraderie grew between us.
Salvos of drinks were sent back and forth across the bar. Maybe I hadn't
noticed before, but over time it became clear that he was the top guy among the
Chinese. Not only was he larger physically and more "take charge", but while
the other Chinese men might talk over each other in typical Chinese fashion,
the moment he spoke they listened attentively, not daring to interrupt him.
Over time the bar became even more of an intriguing and enjoyable hangout for
me. The fact that I was now chatting up one of the Filipina bartenders was also
not lost on the Chinese guy. One night when I came later than usual without a
book in hand to flirt with the Filipina, the Chinese mobster finally decided to
chat with me. We talked about work (I told him I was a computer guy), Hong
Kong, the usual banter. I eventually learned his name was Fong.
"So are you like the bar owner or one of the managers," I asked, having noted
that he never paid for drinks.
"Oh no, I don't work for the bar at all," Fong said. "I supply the bar with
what it needs."
"Like a liquor distributor?" I asked, knowing this was wrong.
He looked at me closely, sizing me up, then said, "No I supply this bar with a
commodity far more important than alcohol. The girls, most of the girls are
mine." With that he swept his hand across the bar with a triumphant grin.
The night off
As time passed, 26-year-old Rowena and I had been out a few times and had grown
increasingly intimate.
On one of her nights off she asked me to go with her to another bar to meet one
of her friends who worked there. We entered another Wan Chai bar and as her
friend was serving us I noticed that she had the same tattoo on her right wrist
that Rowena had.
After the girls finished chatting in Tagalog and her friend had sized me up
sufficiently, we were left alone. "So what does the tattoo mean? I asked. "Your
friend has the same one."
She considered this for a moment, then said, "It is a gang tattoo. I was in the
'Foreign Triad' when I was young."
I thought, "Dear God what have I gotten myself into?"
"It is nothing really. I was young, it was stupid. Just petty stuff," she said.
"You were in the Triad? You are Triad?" I asked, stunned. "What type of
'petty stuff'?"
"Not in 'the Triad', the 'Foreign Triad', only Chinese can be in the actual
Triad," she explained. "But they bring in foreigners to do petty stuff, making
up the 'Foreign Triad'. You know petty stuff: running drugs, numbers, shake
downs, the prostitution rings ..."
"Prostitution rings?" I asked. I needed a drink and signaled her friend.
"Hey, I was never in the sex industry. I had my son at 18, I told you that. I
was a young mother and never would have gotten involved being a sex worker,"
she said. "You know, they need help with the new girls, getting them settled,
explaining the rules, daily rates for their room and food, it helps having
someone who speaks their native language to do that. Then, of course, somebody
has to collect the money every day."
I was stunned but intrigued. Through Rowena over the following months I came to
learn the ins-and-outs of the Triad sex scene in Wan Chai and beyond.
The girls that work the bars are recruited in their home countries by other
girls or a mamasan who might act as a recruiter for the Triad, both get
a finder's fee and a commission off the new girl's income. Most have to buy
their own plane tickets, but a girl viewed as especially beautiful might have
the ticket bought for her, although she'll be required to pay it back. Visas
are arranged by the Triad from connections within the immigration police.
Girls are housed in apartments provided and run by the Triad, usually four to a
room in bunk beds or two double beds, for which they pay an average of HK$50
(approximately US$7) per day. They are also provided with two small rations of
Chinese food. The girls are expected to fend for themselves for their late
evening meal or "dinner". They are assigned to a bar, and discouraged from
going to others. However, if they do venture to other establishments they can
only go to places run by the same Triad syndicate.
The money the girls earn comes from drinks customers buy for them, usually the
highly inflated average of HK$130, of which the girls get HK$20 paid on the
spot, or via a tiny slip that they can use to redeem the money later. The bar
retains a huge margin of profit on the overpriced drinks, and the girls are
strongly encouraged to push "lady drinks".
They also make money from sex. There are no bar fines at these freelance places
so all the money goes to the girl. The average price is about HK$1,500, but can
reach HK$2,500 or higher. Hardworking girls can earn several thousand US
dollars a month, with the goal of having enough money for her family, herself
and to buy a return ticket. A girl who returns home "successful" becomes a
recruiting tool for the Triad.
The Triad pervades every element of bar life in Wan Chai. If a girl is addicted
to drugs, the Triad supplies it. Want to go home? Or, maybe you want to work
another month on the mainland or in Macau while you await re-entry to Hong
Kong? The Triad will take care of visas and immigration - this time for a fee.
The girls usually insist on certain short-time hotels within walking distance
of the bars, unless the customer has a hotel or is a resident. Of course, the
Triad syndicate operates these short-time hotels. And at an average rate of
HK$230 an hour in locations averaging 12 rooms, with rooms turning over up to
10 times each night the take is substantial.
As I learned, the Triad is everywhere: doormen, bartenders, drug dealers,
collectors, enforcers, drivers, handlers, mamasans and bar owners are
all connected at some level.
"How do you think I got my job?" Rowena asked me one night. "Competition is
overwhelming for those jobs. If you think any one of those bartenders,
managers, or doormen - Chinese and foreign alike (mostly Filipinos)- weren't
connected, you're dead wrong."
An invitation you can't refuse
Months after "Rolie" and I had started dating, I was sitting at the bar far
later than usual. Fong had noticed the evolution of our relationship and one
night, when Rolie was enjoying her 15-minute break with me in the nearly
deserted "VIP area", he approached her and asked that she follow him for a
chat.
She looked concerned, scared even. She turned and walked after him, glancing
back once in a way that made me worry even more. Minutes went by, but it felt
like hours. I ordered a drink from a server, and she, too, seemed concerned by
Rolie's absence.
When she returned she appeared dumbfounded. She looked at me and demanded "What
did you say to him?
"Nothing! I didn't say anything!?" I sputtered, fearing for her job and the
child she looked after.
"I have been given a night off in addition to my normal night off - to attend a
manager's wedding reception. Mr Fong told me to bring you. What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. I only talked to him a few times," I said.
"Well, you made an impression."
The Event
Rolie had told me time and again that I didn't need to buy a present. She
scowled disapprovingly when she saw the gift-wrapped box sitting in front of me
- a luxury brand man's wallet for the groom.
We walked a few blocks to a properly nondescript Hong Kong highrise, and took
the elevator to the fourth floor. When the doors opened the noise was
overwhelming; I had entered a different world. Mahjong was being played, shots
were being taken, pictures snapped and people chatted animatedly. It hit me all
at once and I said quietly to Rolie, "This is a Triad wedding?"
"Of course, what did you expect?" she said quietly, taking my hand and leading
me toward a table of co-workers who I recognized.
Pleasantries were exchanged, gifts presented and we settled in at one of the
"foreign" tables. I was amazed that Triad regalia was everywhere. I even caught
a fleeting glance a group photo in which one of the subjects discreetly flashed
a tell-tale gang sign.
After quaffing a few shots of Chinese moonshine - which I'm sure enabled me to
see through time - the bride and groom came over to thank us for coming. I
offered up my present to the groom who was quite surprised - Rolie had been
right. I think I was the only person who gave him a gift.
Later, Mr Fong came by to ask if we were enjoying ourselves, and I said we
were, adding that I was amazed at the sumptuous affair.
"I thought you would enjoy it," he said before smiling mysteriously and walking
off to the mahjong corner.
A standard eight-course dinner was served and we all ate, drank, laughed and
partied. And there I was, an adopted member of one very unusual family.
William Sparrow has been an occasional contributor to Asia Times Online
and now joins Asia Times Online with a weekly column. Sparrow is editor in
chief of Asian Sex Gazette and
has reported on sex in Asia for over five years.
Head
Office: Unit B, 16/F, Li Dong Building, No. 9 Li Yuen Street East,
Central, Hong Kong Thailand Bureau:
11/13 Petchkasem Road, Hua Hin, Prachuab Kirikhan, Thailand 77110
