When a Red Light Was a Red Light

a.k.a. The Post Where I Tackle Prostitutes (Ahem, Figuratively That Is)

In Wuxi and many other parts of China, there are two very obvious and noticeable differences about going out here at night as opposed to the US. The first is that there is almost zero risk of violence, which is an almost constant danger when going out in the US. The only trouble I’ve seen anyone get into here was a result of their own doing. Things do happen from time to time here, but China definitely lacks the roving packs of drunken dudes just looking to start fights. The other main difference is the in-your-face nature of prostitution here. For those of you with whom I haven’t discussed this, I should mention that there were two brothels less than a hundred feet from the entrance of the building that housed my first school. Needless to say, that service plays a prominent part of many people’s evenings, or as it would seem, their days here as well. I can’t count how many times I would walk down a random street in the middle of the day to see several prostitutes peeking back at me from whatever couch they were languishing on behind the glass door of their “establishment.” In one memorable encounter, a middle-aged woman who I would guess ran or managed the establishment came out and beckoned me with her finger. Not knowing whether to laugh or be horrified, I mumbled, “No, thank you” in Chinese and moved on.

For the most part, they confine themselves to certain areas of the city. One of the main areas is called “The Village” for whatever reason, though the bathhouses and massage parlors also have well-deserved reputations. One time a friend of mine went to a massage parlor and when he asked for a normal massage, they laughed at him. Probably the most memorable occasion involving prostitutes came when I was hanging out with the same guy. We had been out drinking and a lot of the bars in our area were closing down, but we decided that we weren’t finished yet, so we set out to find some bars in another part of town. We took a taxi to a place that he thought might have some bars that were still open. We got out of the taxi and looked around for a bit, but no luck. He knew of one more place that we could try, so we started looking for another taxi. We spotted one across the street.

The taxi had its light on, but there seemed to be someone in it. However, after a few minutes, it became obvious that whoever was in the taxi wasn’t getting out. In fact, she appeared to be chatting with the driver. I didn’t think it was a great idea to try get into a taxi that was already occupied, but the driver seemed to be willing to take us where we wanted to go, so my friend jumped into the taxi. I wasn’t sure about hopping in the back with some girl I’d never met and I had a girlfriend, so I didn’t really think it was a good idea. On the other hand, I felt like I was capable of fending off the advances of a young lady of the night, however awkwardly, should I be compelled to do so. Then there was my friend, who was impatiently telling me, “Look, just get in the cab, we’ll sort it out on the way.” So I got in the cab, not knowing what to expect.


Now my friend’s Chinese is pretty good, so he was talking with the driver most of the way. I don’t know if the driver backed this up, but my friend seemed to think that the girl in the backseat had some kind of arrangement with the driver where he would take her to different customers. Every once in a while, my friend would ask the girl a question, but she mostly gave him one-word answers. I’m still not sure what he asked her, but she didn’t seem too happy. In fact, she seemed to be in a pretty surly mood from the time we got in the cab to the time that we got out. Or maybe it just seemed that way to me because she didn’t look at me or speak to me once the entire trip. At some point my friend and the driver started arguing fiercely about something and we ended up stopping somewhere short of our destination. We got out and my friend refused to pay for the ride because he said the driver was trying to rip us off (which is probably true). This started a massive argument in the street with the taxi driver and my friend shouting at each other. There was a tense moment when a group of Chinese guys was walking by across the street and I think the taxi driver was asking them to help him. My friend shouted to them that the driver was trying to cheat us and that he wasn’t even from Wuxi (which must have been true or the driver would have spoken to them in the local dialect to prove him wrong). They laughed and kept going. The driver looked like he was considering trying to physically restrain my friend from walking away, but he thought better of it and let us walk on. As we walked off and tried to plan the next move, one thought kept nagging at me. I kept thinking, “Wait a minute… was I just snubbed by a hooker?”