The bar "L'Ile Rouge is located at Ambondrona, one of the central streets of Antananarivo, a short distance from the 160 steps of Analakely. The district, in better times, plenty of tourists. This year is a bit 'over the desert, because of various crises: the economic one, affecting the origins of the tourism market, and the political, between January and March that has shaken the foundations of the fragile young democracy in Madagascar.
However, the bar this evening, less than a month that has changed management, it is always quite crowded: humanity varied and polyglot, composed mostly of European expatriates, even the French, some hotel guest Moonlight, which is right in front, and a variable number of girls in Madagascar. Sometimes I had already known from the last trip, a score so assiduous as to seem almost part of the furniture. The selection is not random. Among a chat, and even various beers THB arrange some rum, it's easy to make friends and want to share-knows-something more than just smiles.
The problem of "prostitution" or "sex tourism" is quite evident in Madagascar, particularly in large cities and coastal resorts. Nevertheless, it is hasty and complex label it, if only to bring it within the ranks. "L'Ile Rouge", to example, is not anywhere near a bar ambiguous, at least in appearance. But those who trust in appearances? If I had to think of an image, I would say that "L'Ile Rouge" is like a tin can calmly walk on its surface, fish or bathe. In all three cases will be with you the hypnotic croaking of frogs, the true owner of the pond.
And so it is here: the real owner of the bar are girls. Starting with two barmaids: smiling and funny and never a wink, ensure that you can never turn to the bottom of the glass. The conversation is always pleasant, just because the bar has nothing sinister: there are the restorer of the Royal Palace, the doctor of the Cross Red, the merchant craft, furnish the agent, some tourists passing through. The girls, perched on stools, always have something to tell all. Sometimes tow, but it is difficult to say whether they are there for that. Certainly, they are all dressed up, with their generous necklines, her hair pulled by the plate (a must is to have straight hair), piercings and tattoos in plain view. They send down a glass after another, and then become extremely noisy. The risk, if you can not migrate them before, it's a fight breaks out. Among them, I mean. The other night I was chatting quietly with a type, vazaha too, when a brawl erupted. One of girls took off her heels and tossed them on the floor, spreading his arms in defiance. Another was made to scream. Both made beautiful, incomprehensible mumbled insults and were about to bathrobe, certainly for a man, like two dogs on the same bone. Finally spoke the owner, who has kindly invited one of them, obviously the less diligent, to sit outside.
The next morning however, I awoke with a roar of shouts and shots just outside the door of my room at the hotel. I look and I see two girls in the hallway. The place, obviously a little 'less fair girls Ile Rouge, all squeezed bodices and skirts, makeup heavy scent of two pounds, accent mark, even with their shoes in hand. Chased, as I was explained, a customer of the hotel, an English type, who had towed and then refused to give their due. They claimed 80,000 Ar (about 30 €), for the exceptional service provided (which I'll spare you the details, even if it were their lavish, eheheh). Eventually, after threatening to throw stones at the victim, are satisfied by € 10. The confusion was great, all the hotel has stuck his nose. The receptionist was activated to be peacemaker, while English denied everything, taking refuge in the arms of mother remained at the hotel to sleep unaware. Poor thing, she had come to find that angel to his son, who is cooperating in the Madagascar and is found if the whores and drunkards. Dreams are those which end at dawn.
Fragments of stories on the agenda, in some parts of Madagascar. And the proof is that I tell, that, strictly speaking, are not exactly the environment.
To get an idea of \u200b\u200bhow it goes, just take a trip to Glacier, or all'Indra or Pandora. They are simple dancing, boîtes, but places worthy of grooming style. The ratio of men to women is at least 1 to 7. The men, needless to say, they are all vazaha and, guess guess, have been almost always a long adolescence, and maturity as well. Women in return they are young, sometimes a lot, too, and are almost always from the coast. Can you guess because they have darker skin than those originating in the capital, belonging to an ethnic group, the Imerina, of Indonesian origin, with a clearer complexion, slightly almond-shaped eyes and straight hair. In the bars, girls that were here have not yet had never met. All came from the provinces of Tulear, Diego, Mahajunga, Tamatave. In search of fortune. As well as that arrives, if it comes, it disappears in jewelry, tattoos, clothes, mobile phones and wigs. In discos, the experts are at the center of the track: dance sway dangerously, clearly emphasize the curves and agility of the body. In the second row, there are the newcomers: still timid, watching intently as you do. Meanwhile, the veterans do not lose time, because the competition is fierce: if the males are the shy, go get them without hesitation. "Comment ça va?". Woe to offer them a drink. Do not you taken down over the hump.
The interesting thing, for all I know is that here there is no exploitation of prostitution: no patron, no organized network. The girls are self-sufficient. Maybe that's why they have learned to defend themselves so well! The most cute and young people are searching for a mate. If it's bad, for one night or a couple of weeks or months. If all goes well, they have a child, get married, and if not go to Europe, at least they understood enough to live comfortably at home, waiting for their "Cher" The find is one or two times a year. Meanwhile, with the money often keep a lover, usually in Madagascar.
Some, like Lydia, I want to put the record straight: she is a prostitute, as her friends. She does not like to dress sexy. She does not smoke. And to hear it, does not drink either. She has a son at home, waiting for her. A divorce. He's trying to find a job, but it is not so easy. And meanwhile, want to have fun. And every evening there, with the glass half full. Sometimes he tells me that sleeping in hotels, because it is getting late and too dangerous to take a taxy back, asking for accommodations in some vazaha. The other day showed me the glitter that was made to mount sull'incisivo.
Here, people like Lydia sent me into total confusion: I can not tell where fiction ends and reality begins. If it's just a girl of twenty who want to have fun, or if there is more. A little 'comes with all the doubt ... because you might not have expected is that of prostitution, but let's not forget that we are one of the most the world's poor, and here everyone gets by as he can. Basically this is the right place at the right time. And then-they would say - if you're young, pretty and relaxed, if you have nothing, absolutely nothing to lose, if you grew up far away from those religious bigot, they teach you that love is a sin ... why not take advantage and combine business with pleasure?
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