Wow! I'm popular!

Prostitution is never something fun to watch in a place you arrive in. And, quite unfortunately, Djibouti, with its multiple military bases, its thousands of soldiers, its port and its sailors, is particularly prone to it.

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For the untrained individual (and yes, I am an untrained individual), when you enter Place Menelik (between Rue de Paris and Rue de l'Ethiopie) , you only see a bunch of bars reminding the sixties in Vegas, a few kids begging on the streets, and a 20 or so people trying to sell you real Rayban glasses ('at half price because there is no sun at 23:00), Original Rolex watches (and I quote: 'from the USA') and Ossama Bin Laden lighters (lighters with a flashlight on them Projecting the ex n°1 terrorist against a wall, Übercool, 1000 Djibouti Francs only, half price from yesterday!).

The reality, however, strikes once you enter any of the bars. Many waitresses are on the mission to socialise with you (and casually tell you stuff like: 'I want a Jin & Tonic tonight baby', regardless of what conversation you had with any other individual at that same moment), other waitresses are supervising, monitoring the situation and giving tips like: 'Offer them another drink, their empty!', the dance floor is constantly occupied by a few girls extremely eager to dance and demonstrate their bodies (a move quite odd in a culture where the veil is still the standard).

And the industry apparently works well for all parties involved:

• ladies do their 'thing' night in, night out,
  
• hotels charge about 5000 DJF (the actual price of a 'Full Service Experience') to let girls in (officially in an effort to 'reduce the occurrence of prostitution in the community')
  
• and expatriate hotel staff finds ways to get girls in for free (at least, free from the hotel charge that is) for 'house' use, occasionally causing problems when they realise that their wallet has disappeared in the morning or that they spent the whole content of the said wallet in the bar the previous night and are actually unable to pay for services provided). A whole bunch of entertaining stories emerge from those events, should write a book!

I'll always remember the night I spent working at a bar for a beach party in the VIP zone. 'Karen' (see my post on names for an idea of what her real name was) had obtained, God knows how, a VIP pass and was getting drunk, trying to hit on clients (including a nice French soldier who at the end of the night remembered he had a wife and a kid and almost started crying at the bar). While young and attractive, she was dressed in a ridiculous short skirt (displaying her white underwear) and a very light top showing her belly. It was depressing... In the same night, she told the barman 'you're look beautiful baby, give me your phone number', hit on about 20 men, got aggressive with another 30 when she was totally wasted (did I mention the VIP zone had unlimited drinks?) and ended up with a soldier (not the sad one) who probably cursed his life in the morning, if he managed to get in the base that is.

Even less entertaining, of course, is the spreading of disease. Not to mention the fact that, instead of developing a meaningful industry in the country and working to balance with the insanely illogical Khat consumption (imported from Ethiopia), talents and lives are wasted in this way, repeating ridiculous lines (let's go my love!) to total strangers.

But well, at least hotels make sure they establish procedures to not encourage this awful practice... or not...