Migrating for Sex Work

Pokpokan Blues
By Makisig Santos

I originally came from Cotabato City in Maguindanao Province, which is in the Mindanao group of islands south of the Philippines.  We lived there until I was in my teens, and then moved to Las Piñas City.  Even if, at that time, I was getting paid to have sex in cash or in kind, mainly by older gay men, I wasn’t really a sex worker just yet then – it was all payment to add to my allowances (Mama gave me more than enough, you know!) for “being nice” to those who wanted to taste me, nothing else (plus I wasn’t alone in doing this, anyway).

It is in the City of Manila that I discovered I can make a career out of sex.  That’s along Taft Avenue, right in front of the Philippine Women’s University (PWU), where, while walking home I was mistakenly picked up by this guy in an SUV, I realized, “Hey, this can be an easy way to make a living!”

So that by the time I went to Cotabato City next, and while there had sex with the same older gay men I had before, it was already for sex work.  I have become, officially, a sex worker.

I must have already expended the market in Las Piñas (secretly, since Mama would exorcise me herself if she knew of what I was doing – HA HA!), so I moved to Makati City when I could already afford to pay for my own everything.  That’s where I’m still based now, still doing the oldest profession in the world, as they say sex work is (though I thought the oldest job was butchering, for when those Neanderthals already had to cut up dead meat for easting; followed by farming, when they were finally domesticated…).

In a way, I can be classified as a migrant (albeit internally) sex worker.

And there are points needed to be pointed out, and understood well here by people like me.

Firstly, know that wherever you go for sex work, laws apply – yeah, yeah, when in Rome, do as the…, that kind of thing.  Sex work is by and large still illegal, especially in places where the governments want to dictate who you should sleep with; though there are places it is claimed to be illegal, but the practice thrives anyway because, unofficially, it is an accepted practice.  Think of the City of Manila and the guest relation officers in the clubs along Mabini Street – really, who are they kidding when they say sex isn’t sold there?  And then think of Laoag City, its local government unit so aware of its responsibilities it actually has programs protecting sex workers that, consequently, will also protect those they sleep with.  Different places, different rules.  Know them if you migrate, that’s a must indeed.

Secondly, because we were driven to function in the edges of society, there are places where the so-called communities in these edges have their own hierarchies.  This is another must-know, basically to protect yourself.  I wouldn’t want to wait for clients in front of Rajah Sulaiman Park (in Malate, Manila) if I don’t know the regulars who would know who runs the place, that’s for sure.  And you won’t see me at the Quezon City Circle since I hardly know anyone there, much more who “control” them.  Again, know these – another must, too.

Thirdly, know local practices, especially as they apply to contexts, e.g. in my experience, getting picked up in, say, Tondo in Manila by a pa-ghirl parlorista (an effeminate gay guy who works in a beauty parlor), I am expected to just allow to be sucked; though a pa-mhinta parlorista (a butch gay guys who also works in a beauty parlor) in, say, Ayala Center would expect me to suck, too.  No generalizations, but my experience so far.

Fourthly, know your new place well, e.g. where you can safely head off to if the one picking you up doesn’t have a place of his own; don’t order iced tea when in Greenbelt, as they almost always think you’re on duty, even if you’re just out to have dinner (for real); where to run to hide if you will be chased; and the ongoing rates in the area (e.g. in Metro Manila, the same guy working in SM Mega Mall can charge higher in Glorietta, just as in Davao City, the same guy working along Ilustre St. cannot demand a higher price than if he is spotted in the vicinity of Ateneo de Davao).

And fifthly, know offices that can help you should something happen – no, not necessarily the police, since our work somewhat automatically precludes us from their protection (even if that shouldn’t be).  These offices can, among others, provide legal services, safer sex information and supplies, et cetera – consider the likes of the Human Rights Commission, Remedios AIDS Foundation Inc., Pro-Gay, et cetera.

In a way, I am lucky because I am a sex worker by choice (discussions about sex work by choice vs. by force will have to be discussed in another issue altogether…), but many are not in this to make a living, but more kapit sa patalim (last ditch effort).  Irrespective of the kind, however, knowledge remains the most powerful weapon we can have to protect ourselves.

So arm yourself.

Then just go on working.

Makisig Santos, 24, is an on/off sex worker, who believes that since the profession is inherently dangerous, SWs need to be provided with as much know-how as possible for them to be able to protect themselves in whatever situation they find themselves in – and this is the very intention he intends to achieve here, with Pokpokan Blues.