Andrew Santoso

I Need to Go to Church

My Malaysian friend led me into the heart of darkness they call Nana Plaza. On a Tuesday.

Old white men. Western couples looking for an edgy thrill. Thai boys grinning in the front row. All eyes on a stage packed with topless girls, each one wearing nothing but a number on her panties.

"Wait, so I just pick a number, she comes and talks to me, and I can take her home for 4000 baht?" I asked.

"Yep."

Not a bad price for what the girls call boom-boom. But as I sat there, with beer in hand, surrounded by bare skin and quiet desperation, I realized:

I need to go to church.