Stories in the shadows

It’s 6pm in the dusty Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, its red and orange tones marking farewell to another muggy January day. On the streets tuk tuks, motos and the occasional out-of-place luxury car compete for space, weaving past one another as groups of tourists brave the traffic to get from one side of the street to the other. In a city where traffic lights barely exist everyone has to watch out for each other. Away from the blaring horns and the frenzied movement, in a dilapidated apartment that resembles a bunker, Dara begins her transformation under the light of two fluorescent bulbs dangling from the ceiling.

The transformation is a daily ritual, each step having been completed countless times since Dara emancipated herself from the brutal regime of the Khmer Rouge in 1979, trekking a five-day, 47 km journey from rural Kampong Spue Province to the formerly abandoned capital of Phnom Penh. Foundation is applied on to sun-hardened skin, eyebrows re-defined by a steady experienced hand. Her husband crouches on the other side of their single room apartment, playing a game on his smart phone. False eyelashes, a touch of mascara and lipstick finish off Dara’s look.

Applying make up is a universal routine for most women and girls around the world. But for Dara this is different, she is about to go to work. Dara is a transgender sex worker. Ready to go, her make up applied and her lithe body in a simple little black dress, she pauses for a moment. Time slows down as she reaches for some incense near her Buddhist shrine. Her palms touch, wrapping around the lit sticks as she prays in the corner of her room.

The exchange of money for sex is something that makes many of us feel uncomfortable. In an increasingly sexualised world where modern sexual encounters don’t always resemble traditional ideals of an expression of love, the idea of paying for sexual liaisons seems to cross an invisible line for many. The women that offer these services to clients are often stigmatised. By their families and the wider community, by those who have never had the opportunity to talk to a sex worker and therefore struggle to understand the complex circumstances that can lead women into this line of work.

In Cambodia the Women’s Network for Unity (WNU), established in 1999, has stepped in to help women in the sex industry.  Its vision is for sex workers and their children to have full human rights in a society free from violence and exploitation, with greater access to social services including healthcare and education.

WNU is a grass roots organisation that is run through a network of group leaders such as Dara in seven districts across Phnom Penh and more widely in provinces across Cambodia. Funded by a number of international organisations including Oxfam, it focuses on independent sex workers. Each woman pays a small monthly membership fee of 1,000 Cambodian Riel ($0.25 USD) to benefit from WNU’s programs. These include human rights assistance, legal services, health education and advice, along with informal education for children of sex workers.

Prostitution in Cambodia is a story that happens in the shadows. Win works in a karaoke bar and it’s unclear where her duties end and to what extent she interacts with her customers. Win walks the narrow line of compromise that is familiar to many Cambodians - when her daughter was a year old she sent her to live with an aunt in the provinces because she could not provide for her.

Reliable statistics for the number of prostitutes working in Cambodia are not available and there is something of a contradiction when it comes to the authorities response to the industry. Police turn a blind eye to bars in Phnom Penh offering a range of services to clients, but regularly carry out sweeps clearing “undesirables” from the streets including sex workers and those who are homeless or mentally ill. Dara has been able to avoid arrest during her time on the streets and estimates that she is one of over 300 transgender individuals in the Phnom Penh. The work of WNU is valued highly by their 70 transgender members due to the additional discrimination this minority population faces.

It is easier to define the extent of poverty in Cambodia, although difficult to comprehend its far-reaching impacts. UNICEF estimates that 18.6% of the Cambodian population lived below the poverty line of US$1.25 per day from 2007 to 2011. This equates to 2.8 million people, based on a population of 15 million. Between 2008 and 2011 26.1% of the adult population were estimated to be illiterate, severely limiting their employment prospects and ability to climb out of poverty.

Several doors down in the same community as Dara, 36-year-old mother of three Socheata is also preparing for a night working on the streets. Tonight Socheata’s husband is yet to return from his job in the construction industry so she forgoes the usual goodbyes and her husband’s reminders to take care. She slips into another room to re-emerge in a pink dress.

Socheata and her husband care for a five-year-old daughter they adopted after the child was abandoned as a three-day-old by a neighbour. Already homeless and living below the poverty line, Socheata begged for milk from nursing women while she slept by railway tracks with the small infant. As an orphan herself Socheata was determined that this little girl would be loved, whatever the sacrifice.

For Dara and Socheata the income from their work on the streets is not enough to meet their needs. During the day Dara collects food to sell in her community, while Socheata washes dishes for a local restaurant from 6am to 10am so she can feed her family. Both women would leave the sex industry if they could. They expressed the same dream for their future, to open a small business selling groceries. But their circumstances stand in their way, with no money to invest and no NGOs currently working to teach business skills to women in their community it is difficult to see how this can become a reality.

As Socheata ventures into the night she hopes that she will find a client quickly so she can return to the safety of her home once the transaction is complete. Hopefully she will find a client who would like to spend the night in a rent house, which will earn her $15 USD for her family.  Socheata leads us to a rent house. The sheets on the foam mattress are grimy, the walls are streaked with dirt and creaking floorboards threaten to give way at any moment. But for Socheata, this is better than risking the police and violent crimes, on the street. Violence can happen in an instant, men posing as potential clients are known to lead sex workers to an ambush to be gang raped. Socheata recounts that she was in such a situation recently – when eight men attacked and raped her. At least in the rent house she has some control with her clients.

Some sex workers are not lucky to survive such brutality. Tears stream down Socheata’s face as she remembers a friend who died last year. After she was gang raped her throat was slit. Though police have investigated the murder no one has been charged of this crime.

Across Phnom Penh many other women who depend on the sex industry for their livelihood are hoping that the risks they take will pay off, that their clients, a mix of Khmer (Cambodian) and foreign men, will pay them and that they will be kind. In Wat Phnom a group of sex workers greet each other at the start of an evening. They work independently but have formed a sort of community in which they look out for each other.

Unlike some sex workers in the Western world who claim that they chose to work in the industry and enjoy the work and its financial benefits without fear or social stigma, Dara and Socheata’s stories are not about choice. They are stories of survival in its rawest form. This is the reality of poverty when you are a woman. This is what the denial of education and employment discrimination look like.  This is how far women have to go and what they have to give to survive. Dara and Socheata’s stories are not stories of choice. Because how can it ever be called a choice when there is no alternative?