Not long after I started writing these Pearls, I came up with a strange, semi-literary, and [some have said] overblown piece entitled Hi, I'm Eva. ...Eva from Cebu, the story of a Guest Relations Officer (GRO) plying the world's oldest profession in modern Makati. I enjoyed creating "Eva" and, according to the web logs that APMF webmeister Rod Davies sends along, "Eva" is the most often hit upon Pearl.

It is also the Pearl with the most interesting search engine parameters. Many surfers who access "Eva" are searching terms like "Filipino hooker", "Manila sex", and "Makati bargirl". Early on, we received an unexplained spike in hits. Upon investigation, we discovered that some good soul had posted a link to "Eva" on a Filipina bargirl discussion board. He told the group, mostly sex tourists, that they should read it to understand what the girls' lives are really like.

Not surprisingly, I soon received a series of flaming emails telling me to mind my own business and arguing vehemently that the girls don't have it so bad anyway. I also received a few gratifying emails from group members saying that 'Eva' had opened their eyes about what a bargirl's life is really like.

I re-read "Eva" the other day and reflected on some of the issues it raises. Without premeditation, following find some random associations along those lines. (Feel free to flame me if offended, I am quite accustomed to it and can take the heat).

The world's oldest profession is well-deserving of its name. Most male citizens of Ancient Greece regularly visited hetairai, well-educated love priestesses and followers of Aphrodite, virtually the only respected women in classical Greek culture. The hetairai were valued companions, accomplished courtesans who were often more educated than the wives and daughters hidden away at home.

Prostitution played an important role in the American West ("soiled doves"). Like every social setting where sex work becomes institutionalized, a caste system quickly evolved. Élite working girls lived in "parlor houses," often among the nicest buildings in town, replete with plush surroundings, servants, and bouncers. These women were nice-looking "boarders", usually in their 20s, shielded by a protective madam who ensured discretion with gentleman callers. Advertising consisted of dressing the girls up in their Sunday best and riding around town in an ornate carriage for all to see. Below the parlours were bars and brothels situated in red light districts, staffed by women who might charitably be described as a bit older and more experienced. The job of hostesses in Western bars was to sell drinks and provide scenery for the men, who had often been on the trail or in the mines for months without benefit of female companionship. The combination of a pretty face and a nicely turned ankle kept 'em drinking until they were broke. Not all of these women engaged in sex-for-pay, but most probably did.

At the lower end of the pecking order were "cribs" and "hog ranches," filthy, crude little shacks located also cattle trails or near mining towns. Cribs were divided into tiny little cubicles, with dirty, horny cowboys and miners dropping in at will - the end of the line.

In an earlier Pearl, I described the Philippines' export of human beings (Leaving on a Jet Plane). Some of that diaspora consists of Filipinas heading for Japan to toil in the trenches of that country's unique system of sexual capitalism.

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Foreign women working in the "entertainment industry" in Japan are known as Japayukisan, a parallel with Karayukisan, a word coined before World War II to describe Japanese women who went to "China", which really meant anywhere in Asia outside Japan. In the Philippines, the term is shortened to the derogatory "Japayuki".

Given the lack of economic opportunities here, many young Filipinas seek positions as "entertainers" in Japan. They sign up at one of the "Dance Studios" or "Promotion Agencies" which operate widely in Philippine cities.

After cursory training, they sign contracts with agencies as "cultural dancers" or "artistes." Their monthly "budget" ranges anywhere from $300 to $1000 (the latter only if they are pretty and have more than minimal performance skills).

Many end up working in hostess clubs, long the favorite haunts of salarymen, traditionally on expense accounts, although the spending is considerably less free in today's austere economy. The hostess clubs provide a controlled environment in which harried Japanese men can escape the constraints of the office and the repressed norms of Japanese society.

Many Japayuki are not prostitutes; i.e., sex for pay is not part of the equation. The Japayuki attends to the needs of the men, constantly lighting Mild Sevens and fetching drinks. A key part of the job is constant and repetitive flattery: "Your singing so good," "You are handsome one," "You must be popular with the ladies"... In other words, sexual banter to flatter the male ego. Living conditions aren't that great, with half a dozen Filipinas sharing a cramped apartment designed for two. They hide inside during the day to avoid being reported, live on instant ramen and coke, then work all night. Their bosses impound their passports to keep them from running away.

At least Japayuki are usually allowed to return at the end of their contracts, a period which coincides with the expiration of their visas. An unknown proportion of Filipinas (and Thais and other women from Southeast Asian nations) disappear into the sordid underworld of the Japanese porno and sex club scene. Many never make it back home.

I was exposed to the world's oldest profession in Bangkok a long time ago (as described in passing in "Eva"). However, my more intense immersion had to do with the Desert Dollhouse, a legal Nevada cathouse located in the middle of the high desert - somewhere between Tucson to Tucumcari, Tehatchapi to Tonopah, to quote an old Little Feat song. The Dollhouse was an important reference point in my young adult life, roundabout three decades ago (and counting), during a time when I was trapped in the military-industrial complex after returning from Southeast Asia.

Initially I was a regular customer, but soon became a habitué and friend of both the Madame and the working girls. Quick flashback/aside to youth: A stunning Sunday morning sunrise illuminating the dirt driveway of that old motor court, a horseshoe of several 20-year old Airstream trailers, chrome glistening in the desert glare, site of commercial f***ing and hollow, lost lives.

Similar to the Old West, the Nevada cathouse world has its own pecking order. Boondock establishments like the Dollhouse provided a de facto farm system for the higher-class Reno and Vegas joints; they also served as an overflow valve for girls who were no longer young and sexy. The girls at the Dollhouse were just getting their feet wet, Plain Jane types, or overly experienced. Hooking, like modeling and professional sports, is a seriously time-limited profession.

Over time, I became good friends with the Madame and some of the girls, generally several years older than myself. My favorite was Clarisse, one of the older hookers; the combination of her bedroom skills, general earthiness, and Blanche DuBois accent knocked me dead. Clarisse had been a hooker most of her life, having worked the streets of Atlantic City before several years at top Vegas and Reno cathouses.

We became pals and Clarisse eventually started stopping by my desert bungalow during hot desert afternoons just to hang out. Even though she was a good 15 years older than me and had spent most of her life as a hooker, Clarisse and I had a lot in common. She loved to read and was self-educated much like myself; she had been saving her money to go to college and was about ready to retire from hooking. She read books in between tricks just like I did in between bomb runs. Sometimes we made love, sometimes we didn't. I knew she did that for a living and always left it up to her. Besides, I liked her company.

The Manila prostitution world also has a caste system. At the top are élite prostitutes - many of them office workers or young professionals who augment their income with carefully selected trysts with ex-pat businessmen staying at five-star hotels. The hotels discourage working girls of any type from hanging out in their lobbies, but these girls are good looking, classy, well educated, and can afford the drinks. A few of the girls I know have given up the cube farm altogether, a rational decision given that they can make a lot more money and enjoy more freedom in their new line of work.

Such girls, however, constitute only a small minority of Manila hookers

Most Manila hookers are more like Eva, "mid-range" prostitutes working in bars and karaoke joints. They are drawn magnetically to the sex trade by poverty and limited life opportunities - most enter the industry of their own accord, perceiving it as preferable to any other alternative. Indeed, with wages so low in the Philippines, it is fair to ask whether it is more degrading to, say, work at manual labor or a degrading service job for $5 a day or to turn tricks and make a lot more money, especially when your entire family back in the provinces is depending on you for survival.

Although the usual images of Filipina bargirls involve ex-pat sex tourists, the bulk of the sex trade involves Filipino men as customers. The casas that serve their needs are generally in poorer neighborhoods. The girls in casas are not as pretty as the élite girls, speak less English (generally none), and are more likely to be physically abused by their johns.

Most casas are simple and sparsely furnished, with poor lighting and darkened booths, perhaps a jukebox and beat-up pool table over in the corner. Refreshments are cheap (lukewarm San Mig for 10 pesos). You won't find stage shows, disco lights, stripping, or elaborate stages with poles at either end. Nor will you see the various bargirl tricks that ex-pats get so excited about. Barfines are significantly less than in ex-pat joints, and many joints - at least those paid up with the local cops - offer sex-for-pay in rooms in the rear (last I heard, about P700-800, US $15 or so).

Well, as my self-disclosures make clear, I have spent a fair amount of time earlier in life in the company of prostitutes. I have occasionally been a customer, but have also tried hard to understand the real lives behind the façade. I have had good female friends in the sex trade in Bangkok, Manila, Las Vegas, Reno, New Orleans, and points in between. I also spent a fair amount of time and resources in Los Angeles rescuing mail order brides or Filipinas who had otherwise fallen into jeopardy in the darker corners of La La Land as part of the Henderson soup kitchen/mestiza good works club. I got to know many of those girls, often with my wife interpreting.

As you might guess, a little bit of all of those girls went into Eva. For whatever reason, I have always been attracted to life's gritty side, and nothing is more gritty than selling your body for lucre.

Many "liberal," or libertarian, analyses of prostitution assert that commercial sex is no more intrinsically wrong or harmful than any other service work. Sex-for-pay is seen as a mutually beneficial, morally neutral, rational agreement between consenting equals. Motivations are simple: the girl needs the money, the man needs the physical gratification. So it's value neutral, nothing but supply and demand in a free market.

But that's is an oversimplification. The relationship between a john and his trick is a power relationship, one between (not to put too fine a point on it) master and slave. The psychological dynamics go deep as deep can be.

The Filipino customer is driven by Catholicism and machismo norms inherited from the Spanish - think cult of the virgin and idealization of female chastity. Some academics suggest that they are insecure in their masculinity, which is why mamasans in local casas are so contemptuous of their clientele. Filipina hookers serving Filipino men are not supposed to be good in bed - better they just lay there. They don't make sexual demands, do whatever the man asks, and act satisfied. No pressure on the man to perform, easy reinforcement for his masculine superiority.

What sort of women do ex-pat sex tourists want? Obliging, submissive women, of course, what GI's in Nam called LBFMs (don't ask!). There are web sites called "submissive Asians" and such, and the entire mail order bride industry has been built on the marketing concept that Filipinas make good wives. "Good" is defined as meaning that they'll do exactly what you want them to and not give you any shit (to quote Kinky Friedman, "get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed"). Many, if not most, ex-pat sex tourists are divorced from Western women and have a deep dislike for assertive, professional women. The poor Filipinas who work in karaoke joints in the cities or who sign up for mail order services make few demands and will be as submissive as they have to to find the economic relief they so desperately seek.

One of the sadder aspects of the sex trade in Manila is the racist attitude of some sex tourists. They inspect the merchandise like cattle, make the girls engage in demeaning on-stage acts, and physically check breast size or other attributes before agreeing to pay the barfine. I once saw a group of white men (I won't disclose the nationality) getting shi*faced drunk with several young bargirls, teaching them to sing derogatory songs putting down people of color. They were also getting great kicks out of telling racist jokes, obviously directed at the girls, but told in their own language. The girls, mystified, smiled and giggled a lot.

Western sex customers, especially Americans, nurture the illusion that the girls have a choice. They want the whole pick-up routine to be loads of fun, party city - witness the Angeles City sex scene. They delude themselves into believing that the 18-year old Filipina they find so sexually attractive really likes them. Filipinas, with their naturally outgoing personality and acting abilities, are easily able to play to those fantasies.

There are an estimated 500,000+ prostitutes in the Philippines, 40,000 of whom may be children. Poor girls like Eva continue to turn to prostitution because the crisis-ridden Philippine economy offers them little or no economic alternative.

Sex workers in the Philippines, as throughout the world, are subject to physical and emotional abuse by men (including their clients, pimps, and cops). They are almost always under heavy pressure to support their families. While their families understand at some level and appreciate the sacrifices they make, Filipina prostitutes are socially stigmatized, marginalized, and traumatized.

Prostitution in any social setting or historical period ensnares the participants in a web of deception and contradictions from which neither party is likely to escape unharmed. But the harm is much greater to the women, who have few if any alternatives for making a decent living. Sex can be bought and sold but human intimacy cannot.