It all started innocently enough, my usual routine, I arose breakfasted on some fruit, cheese and bread and caught up with the BBC world news. Then I went to the internet cafe, caught up with a fraction of my correspondence and eventually gave up and went to a local restaurant to eat. Later at an Ozzie bar surrounded by beautiful bar girls and with several glasses of cheap but suprisingly good Ozzie wine I alternately read and wrote, chatted and pondered or simply stared at the busy world fly by - for this was Sukhumvit, not a laid back Thai village or resort where life would glide past this was the heart of the Bangkok business district - chop chop busy busy work work bang bang. Curiously enough it was also the heart of Bangkok's sex industry, home of the notorious Nana Plaza - basically three floors of bar girls, sex shows and brothels. Things get raunchier the higher the floor simply because if the police raided the upper floor had a good few minutes to cover up, a routine that they practiced regularly until it operated like a well oiled machine.

Around seven I retired to my hotel, quiet, comfortable but at $60 a night unecessarily expensive - I was planning to shift down the next day to something a third of the price, my modus operandi - when I moved to a new location I would pick a nice hotel for the first few nights and then hunt down the bargains usually by word of mouth.

I dozed for a while in my room, and watched vaguely some movie, I can't remember what and around ten showered and went out for a night cap (or ten). I'd found a place that was a good viewing point opposite the Nana Plaza, a bar with a rail so I could read and watch the antics of the girls and the Ferang as they met in a seething interface of sex and money. I'd had a beer and was well into a second bottle when I notices something that disturbed me on a gut level. Now there are scores of young girls that pester you to let them clean your shoes, they're annoying but ignore them and they soon go away. To my left a knot of about four or five girls had gathered to argue or gossip before resuming their relentless toil. Suddenly a Japanes or Korean man (I couldn't be sure) leant forward and said something to the girls beneath on the street. The girls scattered in all directions, as though someone had said the police were on their way. This was when I began to be disturbed.

Things settled down somewhat, and within five minutes or so the girls were back - probably a different lot - pestering to clean your shoes. By now my eyes were rooted on the young asian man. Again he leaned forward and the girls scattered and my feeling of disquiet strengthened. What was going on? I think I knew. One of the girls had stopped to talk with the man and he was leaning forward brushing her long hair. A bar girl collected some glasses from his table and went past mine. I stopped her; had she heard what the man was saying to the young girl? Yes, she said, he try to make her go back to room with him. And she continued on her way. My hackles rose, as in disbelief I saw him now molesting the 11 or 12 year old girl who was struggling to escape his clutches - touching her where one day there might be breasts; nobody seemed to noticed. As my blood boiled I recalled the time in Phnom Penh when I was sure I saw a paedophile pick up a boot boy and take him to a hotel to fuck, the shame that I hadn't responded to my instincts and intervened. I couldn't let that happen again. I stood up and yelled at him to let the girl go, he looked around in suprise and in that moment the girl won her freedom and dashed between the traffic to get somewhere, anywhere away from this pervert. I was screaming at him now, his companion, a huge man, approaching me threateningly, I was going to get minced but I didn't care. Someone has to stand up and be counted. Luckily for me two bouncers intervened and thrust me back, in my anger I pressed forward again only to have him block my way. He grabbe me by me shoulders and shoved me back, my left arm that I has sprained the week before shrieking in renewed agony. I screamed at him -

'Did you see what he was doing? He was molesting that child! Why do you let him stay here?' I demanded.

'He guest, he stay in hotel of bar - he just drunk. You pay bill and go now.' I lunged once more to try and get at the pervert but the bouncer was too much of a wall. 'You pay and go'. He motioned for my bill to be tallied, and I looked around at the rest of the Ferang for support. Nothing. Mostly Europeans, they were looking at me as if I was from Mars, not one of them offering any form of moral support or falling on the pervert that was laughing at me by now. Everyone was either neutral or on his side; especially the staff. I looked for the waitressto back me up but she'd scuttled into the kitchen. I threw the money I owed on the counter, shook myself free and stalked off yelling 'Fucking pervert' at the asian man, for what good it would do.

I was shaking with anger, trembling, I made my way to a bar where I'd befriended a couple of local girls; they'd help me with my anger, talk it out of me. I got there and ordered a double screwdriver, unable to talk for a good ten minutes. They sensed my distress and wiped my face and neck with a cold towel, another massaging my shoulders, knotted and tense. Eventually I talked, told them of what had happened and my shock at the casual acceptence of a man sexually assaulting a young shoe-shine girl. They just shrugged,

'johnnymac, you in Thailand now, this happens. If she want to go with him then nobody mind.'

I was stunned. These lovely young women just seemed to accept it as part of life, they didn't even seem to condemn it. My mind whirled in a kalaidescope of sticky puzzles, trying to come to terms with the events of the evening and failing to come to any conclusion that left me even remotely at ease. I decided that the only way to cope was the johnnymac way and get completely and utterly drunk, something I was very good at doing.

It turned out to be one of the worst decisions of my life.

yechydda,