Male Sex Work and Society (58 page)

Read Male Sex Work and Society Online

Authors: Unknown

Tags: #Psychology/Human Sexuality, #Social Science/Gay Studies, #SOC012000, #PSY016000

Male prostitution is a short-lived career. Because the longer a man is in it, the less he will get paid, internal competition among money boys is fierce and the sex industry is constantly looking for “fresh meat.” As a result, money boys are a highly mobile class of migrants, moving across cities in China, Hong Kong, and Macau, or to other Southeast Asian countries with substantial Chinese communities such as Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand. This transnational “circuit of desire” is the lifeblood of sex tourism in Asia, similar to the sexual migration pattern of Brazilian male prostitutes who move across Latin America (Parker, 1999).
Becoming a Money Boy
 
In the West, the image of the male prostitute has shifted from the flamboyant male homosexual in the 19
th
century to the juvenile delinquent straight boy in the 1950s (Scott, 2005; Scott et al., 2005). The male prostitute of the 1950s was most interested in material rewards, denied his own sexual pleasure, only performed the active sexual role, and despised or even was violent to clients (Reiss, 1961). He was thus seen as a powerless young man who was trapped by his own personality defects, childhood traumas, and family dysfunction in a cycle of self-loathing, poverty, and cultural deprivation (Coombs, 1974). The effeminate male prostitute of the Song Dynasty (960-1279) in China has similarly given way to the emergence of money boys in contemporary China, who are frequently portrayed in mass media, academic studies, and dominant public health and medical paradigms as engaging in “survival sex” and suffering from sociopsychological problems, such as depression, sexual violence, and substance abuse (Choi et al., 2002; He et al., 2007; Wong et al., 2008).
Building on later works in international literature, which have shifted from the sociology of deviance to the sociology of work (e.g., Browne & Minichiello, 1995, 1996a, 1996b; Calhoun & Weaver, 1996; West & de Villiers, 1993), I argue that these men’s engagement with sex work could be seen as a result of migration, financial gain, and sexuality in the context of personal and structural constraints and freedoms. Money boys are mainly second-generation rural-to-urban migrants (Kong, 2012), who are primarily ethnic Han Chinese (the dominant race) from rural or semi-rural villages, and sometimes second-tier towns. They go to work in cities to escape their peasant background and they share the same goal as other rural-to-urban migrants:
dagong
(to work), experience a new world, and become successful urban citizens (Pun, 2005; Pun & Lu, 2010). In contrast to
gongren
(proletarians), who comprise a more privileged class that enjoys guaranteed employment due to the planned “iron bowl” economy of the Mao period, money boys work as wage laborers who sell their sexual “labor” in exchange for money, thereby representing a growing social class in the market economy of reform China.
Most of the money boys I met with identify themselves as homosexual or bisexual, while a few identify as heterosexual. The majority are single, having been raised in conventional families and having levels of education similar to other rural migrants. Few reported having suffered from sexual abuse or being forced to enter the sex industry against their will. Like other rural migrants, they moved to the cities to work, as Liu, a 32-year-old gay freelance worker I interviewed in Shenzhen in 2009 told me:
 
FIGURE 13.4
A money boy doing pole dancing at an NGO function in Shenzhen, China.
 
I was born in a small village in Anhui. I didn’t finish my junior secondary education. I went to work in a restaurant in Xi’an when I was 16 years old. The wage was terribly low, 60 yuan [approx. US$8] a month, including meals and accommodation. I stayed there for about half a year, I then went back home. Later, I went to Shanghai and worked in a factory, the wage was higher but still low … I then quit and sold pirate DVDs for a while … In 2006, I chatted on the Internet and was introduced to work in a bar through some friends … I then started to earn money from doing this [sex work] … I thought I would earn some money … and yes indeed, I have earned quite a lot of money.
My family was very poor … When I was young, I did not do well in education and knew that I [w]ould not be able to go to university. Even if I could, my family would not have enough money to afford my study. I decided to go out to work … I swore that I would never stay in a small village for the rest of my life. I swore I would live in a big city … and now I can tell people that I live much happier than any one of my relatives who still lives in my home village … Shenzhen is the city with most freedom in China. I can make love with men, a lot of men!
 
Migration for these young rural migrants represents a way to earn money, to experience a new world, to become urban and modern; for those who are gay, like Liu, it is a way to realize gay sexuality, escape from the rural homophobic environment, and avoid the familial pressure to get married. They have the same aspirations as other migrants: to become an entrepreneur or a
xiao laoban
(small boss) by starting a small business or opening a small shop, such as a restaurant, a grocery shop, or a boutique. Migration is thus a step toward becoming an urban citizen and an entrepreneur (Kong, 2012; cf. Pun, 2005).
Many of the men I interviewed were quite disappointed once they came to the big city and experienced the obstacles facing rural migrants, due to the
hukou
(household registration) system. Established in 1958, this system assigns registration numbers to individuals based on their locality and family background. The hukou has four functions: to provide the government with a mega-database on the populace; to control the flow of internal migration, especially rural-to-urban migration; to provide a basis for differential resource allocation between urban and rural hukou holders; and to help police track people down (Wang, 2010). If you are born in a rural village, you acquire a rural hukou, thereby making you eligible for lesser housing, health care, and education benefits should you move to the city than an individual with an urban hukou. Hukou and class barriers make rural migrants subject to discrimination that includes economic and financial difficulties, being deprived of legal rights and social benefits, and cultural isolation and inferiority (Pun, 2005; Pun & Lu, 2010; Solinger, 1999). Consequently, rural-to-urban migrants end up in temporary menial jobs in construction, retailing, or catering that most urban citizens are unwilling to take, or they simply drift from place to place. Sex work thus provides an attractive option for them. Being a money boy is an alternative for rural male migrants. Through sex work they can escape the destiny of being a rural migrant, live up to the high living standards of the cities, and hope to become an urban citizen and entrepreneur.
Risks and Pleasures of the Male Sex Industry
 
Money is the initial and principal reason to enter the sex industry. When asked about other rewards, respondents mentioned aspects of satisfaction that can be classified as follows: sexual pleasure from work and ensuring gay identity; control of work, such as flexibility and freedom in the job; and self-esteem and self-development for upward mobility.
Sexual pleasure and ensuring gay identity are positive aspects that most respondents mentioned. Ah Dong, a 26-year-old closeted gay man with a middle school education, was a freelance money boy working in Beijing. In 2004 he told me, “In front of my client, I can be relaxed and say I love men! I am a tongzhi!” Similarly, Dim, a 26-year-old gay bar dancer and freelance money boy with a senior middle school education (roughly equivalent to senior high school in the U.S.) who worked in Shenzhen, said in 2009, “Prostitution is like to find someone for 419 (a one-night stand), plus money!”
Another positive aspect of the job becomes apparent when it is compared with the menial and tedious jobs that most of them had worked before. Ah Wei, age 25 when interviewed in 2004, has a junior middle school education and identifies himself as a gay man. He has been working as a full-time independent money boy for eight years and finds his clients mainly in bars. Asked about his reasons for doing male sex work after returning to Beijing from Shenzhen, he said, “Freedom! For other jobs you have to work on time; for this job, you can sleep whenever you want, eat whenever you like, it’s quite free really.”
Improved self-esteem and social mobility are other good points of this work. Xiao Tong, age 25 when interviewed in 2009, was born in Anhui, is gay, has a primary school education, and works as a brothel manager. He said:
Being a [money boy] is a platform, an opportunity. This platform is fair and depends on how you use it. You can get a lot of experiences, money, and get to know a lot of people. If you work [in] other occupation[s], you would not … [be] able to meet people with such diverse backgrounds.
 
For Xiao Tong, male prostitution is a very important tool for future individual and career development.
However, sex work entails a lot of risks and dangers. The risk reported most often is from the government. Due to the government’s
yanda
(hard strike/stern blow) campaign and daily routine raids, my informants were constantly worried that they might be caught by the police. Xiao Xi had a very bad experience. He was 21 in 2009, born in Shaanxi, gay, and a university student; he found clients through the Internet. An undercover policeman caught him once. He was sent to the police station, where he was threatened and beaten until he gave up the names of his clients. The police notified his family and the university. He was finally kicked out of the university and ended up working in Shenzhen.
Occupational risk is common. Ming, a money boy and a brothel manager in Beijing who is 24, gay, and has a senior-middle education, told me in 2009:
A client found me through the Internet advertisement. I said I charged 1000 yuan (approx. US$150) and the client said OK. I was quite happy with this negotiated price and then went to the hotel to meet him. When I got into the room, the client showed me a staff card or something, another man was behind the door and another came out from the bathroom. They all pretended that they were police and handcuffed me. They took my watch, mobile phone, money, and left!
 
Ming did not report this event to the police, as he did not know how to explain why he was at the hotel in the first place.
Ah Quan, who is 38, bisexual, and has a primary school education, is a brothel manager in Shenzhen who once had a brothel of his own. In 2009 he told me:
I once opened a small-sized brothel. The reason that I closed it was not because of the business but … the police … the government officials … they were so corrupt … At the beginning, I didn’t have time to bribe them, and was caught … They said there were some problems in my place, and fined me 30,000 yuan (approx. US$5,000). I also had to treat them to dinner … It was over 40,000 yuan altogether. Moreover, gangsters also made trouble for me … Once, four people beat me up … I was hospitalized afterwards.
 
Money boys also constantly face the risk of sexually transmitted diseases. Some of the men I spoke with have contracted crabs, herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, urethritis, and HIV/AIDS. However, money boys are also quite knowledgeable about HIV/AIDS, have higher awareness of HIV/AIDS risks, and tend to use condoms at work more often than heterosexual rural migrants and other men who have sex with men (He et al., 2007; Liu et al., 2006; Ruan et al., 2007). Condom use for oral sex is rare, but for anal sex it is the industry norm (Kong, 2008). However, unsafe sex usually happens when the men seek pleasure at work or have sex with regular clients or with noncommercial intimate partners. Liu Liu’s boyfriend is a male sex worker, and while he uses condoms with clients, he often risks it with his boyfriend:
Clients, I do … because you don’t really know them … but with my boyfriend, we have been together all the time. I feel safe … [Question: How do you know your boyfriend wouldn’t have sex outside the relationship?] If he doesn’t come back home one night, I will stop making love with him for three days … you can tell the symptoms of most sexual diseases … if he looks fine. Then it’s fine [not to use condoms].
 
Xiao Qing, 25, who is gay, has a senior-middle education, and is a fulltime money boy, believes he got HIV from his sugar daddy. He said to me in 2009:

Other books

Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis
Then You Hide by Roxanne St. Claire
Dreamwalkers by Kate Spofford
A Greater Evil by Natasha Cooper
Enemy in the Dark by Jay Allan
Kushiel's Scion by Jacqueline Carey
Virginia Henley by Enslaved