Strip Club - Saipan Style

Sign Board in one of the Strip Clubs along Beach Road

Strip shows are called Exotic Shows. Strippers are called Exotic Dancers.

I've always passed by Chicago-2. It never really caught my attention before. It's located in the Garapan area and perfectly sandwiched between a coffee shop and a store selling surfing gears and stuff.

I used to walk around the area. I remember one Sunday afternoon, when I was so bored to my bones. I went inside the coffee shop inspecting the pastries and the bread. Nothing looked good. I checked-out the displays in the surf store. I tried the flip-flops but nothing compared to the comforts of my favorite pair of Havaianas.

It was a Friday. Someone was celebrating his birthday and most of the people from my office came for dinner. At dinner we discussed about strippers. I told them that when I was in Bangkok, we went to this show in Patpong where girls performed various acts which to me now, seemed like a circus or a magic show.

One officemate suggested that we go and watch a strip show. I've never been to one here and so, I said, "OK. It's for educational purposes."

Four of us went. I was the only Pinoy in the group. 2 guys, Mildred and I. Mildred is one of the girls in my office who's really nice to me. She's never been to a strip club before and both of us were quite curious what goes on inside a strip club.

So, we went to this Chicago-2 Club in Garapan. At around 11pm, there were quite a handful of customers enjoying themselves with the show. The place was just small, about the size of a regular restaurant. There was a bar and a stage where about 5 naked girls were dancing. Others were entertaining the customers. Around the stage were stools, where the guys sit and do their thing.

We didn't sit at the stools. We took the sofa instead. I got the shock of my life when I saw what was happening. The girls were allowing the men to touch them. One of my officemates got dollar bills from his wallet and started to call one of the girls on stage by waving the dollar. The girl came to him and sat on his lap. I didn't notice where his hands went, but he was kissing the girl's breast. The girl got the dollar from him and went back to the stage. The men were boisterous. The girls went to their customers walking around naked and letting the men, touch, grope, kiss and fondle them. Just for a dollar!

My other officemate called another girl. This time the girl came to him and did a lap dance. He inserted the dollar bill inside the girl's vagina and with a kind of hollow laughter the girl said "Thank you."

I didn't know what I felt exactly at that point. I was looking at this girl dancing on the stage with nothing but a belt as her costume. She looked like Scarlet Johansson in Match Point. She was smiling and I wonder if she was on drugs. Another girl went to the pole and hung there upside down like a monkey. One did a split without any underwear on.

I was feeling nervous. My hands were clammy. I kept saying, "Oh my god!" like an idiot. I wanted to cry for those girls. I wanted to murder those men right there and then. Those dancers were Filipinas. Those naked girls were my kababayans and I was watching them with the Chamorros beside me. I felt so degraded. I wanted to get a blanket and cover their nakedness. They were young, barely out of their teens. The girl who went near us had breasts no bigger than a plum. I thought she was just around 16 or younger.

My officemate was saying, "Relax! It's for educational purposes, right?" How could I relax? It was like staring at my own nakedness. Then he said, "You know what? It would take $200 to have sex with those girls." And there are rooms upstairs where one could let out the heat so to speak.

When we came out, I let out a scream. My hands were cold and I wanted to cry but I bit my lips because I don't want the Chamorros to see my reaction. I didn't want them to think that I was a baby.

When I went home, I wasn't able to sleep. I wrote about my experience and I texted my fellow contract worker in the bank. I was so disappointed with his replies. He said that those girls were making more money than I was. That he adores them and that some of his "fwends" have the same job. That those girls chose that job and I should not feel pity for them. I thought that he lacked compassion for his fellowmen.

I was in bed but sleep never came. I kept thinking what made those girls choose that job? What circumstances of fate led them to that? How could they do that job? Being naked and being touched by strangers every night, what do they feel? When they dance, what do they think about? Do they create "movies in their minds" too, like Gigi in Miss Saigon? What do they dream about?

While attending Mass on a Sunday after the Chicago-2 experience, I felt weird inside the church. I was looking at people trying to decipher who looked like a stripper. One can never know unless one looks at their faces intently. Actually, they looked pretty on stage, maybe because of the spotlight. But when they go down and if you look at them closer, they look older. They look wasted. One even had a badly fitted dentures.

The scenes I saw kept repeating in my mind. Two events actually caught my attention. The first one was, this guy who looked like a construction worker (He was just wearing shorts and a faded T-shirt. He was wearing rubber slippers too.). He was calling one of the girls and he had a lot of dollar bills. One girl was actually concentrating on him. She never left his side. They were talking and the guy's hands was all over her body. I kept thinking, who was actually fooling whom? The guy maybe was just an ordinary worker who earns $3.05 an hour, drilling the road under hot Saipan sun and carrying heavy equipment. While the girl, was taking all his money, just for the priviledge of touching her private parts. She was actually earning more than he does.

The other scene was a naked girl sitting on one guy's lap. She was bent over and the guy was touching her breasts. Then, 4 guys were milling around her and were touching her too. I saw her eyes and I felt that she was pleading for help. The guys were actually taking advantage of her already because only one of them was paying. The others were groping for free. She was trying her best to protect her body but she can't do anything. She didn't want to displease her customers. She was just laughing and trying to ward off 10 sweaty and dirty hands.

I shared my experience with some accountant friends and one of them told me that she went to a strip club too. She went to Club Jama. It was nasty she said. It was the same thing. She felt the same too. Embarrassment. Pity. Wonder. Gratitude to circumstances that gave her a fate better than those girls.

Strip clubs are common here in Saipan. Underaged Pinays who came here under a different name (a common practice is to get an older person's birth certificate and assume her identity). They are called exotic dancers. The clubs even advertise. Club Jama is in Saipan Tribune almost everyday. A strip club called Moonite has a picture of its dancers posted outside. Club 820 is a Korean restaurant by day and a strip club by night. It even has a new branch along Beach Road. Club Happiness in Paseo de Marianas caters to Japanese tourists. There's also Club Macau just across it. I can't understand the poster on its doors because it's written in Japanese. The only familiar character is $25. Maybe that's the admission price.

The experience kept me insomniac for 2 nights. When I went back to the office on Monday, the emotions just poured out of me. I told Tita Lee (another Pinay working for the bank but is an American citizen now) about it and I cried. I felt so awful. I felt angry. I felt so much compassion for my fellow Pinays. I would never wish that kind of job even to my worst enemy.

I thought of Gabriela -an NGO that promotes the welfare of women. I thought of Abanse-Pinay. I thought of Rina Jimenez-David. I thought of Marra Lanot. I thought of Joy Barrios. I thought of Atty. Katrina Legarda. I thought of all the feminists who work to make society be aware that women are not commodities. My respect for them grew a hundredfold. Deep in my heart, I wished that more women continue to dedicate their lives to fight for better and equal society.

I am posting a poem by my favorite poet - Pablo Neruda. I wish I could write poetry as beautifully as he does. I want to dedicate this poem to all the Pinays here in Saipan who work at those Strip Clubs.

Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks

All those men were there inside
when she came totally naked.
They had been drinking; they began to spit
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing
She was a mermaid who had lost her way
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh
Obscentities drowned her golden breasts
Not knowing tears sh did not weep
Not knowing clothes she did not have clothes
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor
She did not speak because she had no speech
Her eyes were the color of distant love
twin arms were made of white topaz
Herlips moved, silent, in a coral light
and suddenly she went out by that door
Entering the river she was cleaned
shining like a white stone in the rain
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.