Did you know? All of us here have noticed it. Every time I get a foreign customer, I notice. I really like it. My young masseuse chatters on as she works the knots out of my back and shoulders.
Even though she has to be at work seven days a week, twelve hours a day, being at home just meant long days spent watching TV. It was too boring! The masseuse across the street from my apartment was born in Anhui, one of the poorest, least developed provinces in China, a place where men depend on beasts to farm and many students never go to high school.
At thirteen she moved, by herself, to Shanghai and eventually made her way to Beijing. I never asked her the details, but as she laid out the basics of her life in a frank, pleasant tone, I had to wonder: how does a teenager end up leaving home and moving to Shanghai by herself?
Mostly, I just admired her bravery and spirit. Those women were battle-axes: all sinewy arms and no-nonsense attitudes to match, but quick to smile when they realized a foreign client could speak Chinese. One masseuse, voice tinged with more than a little regret, told me that her shoulders were so broad because she had spent her youth laboring on the farm in her hometown.
But as a woman, my heart aches for the many sex workers who were tricked or forced into their position, for their safety and for the hard choices they may have had to make. The thought of the whole encounter puts my stomach in knots. She loves her job, she loves Beijing.
