An Outsider's View from the Inside - Sex Tourism

Club night was a resounding success again this past Saturday. My group decided to go local and visit a non-tourist destination simply called, "Bob's". Bob's is a patio bar situated in what looks like the inside parking lot of a cheap motel. But when the sun goes down and the laser disco starts up, Bob's becomes the nighttime hotspot. Locals and the occasional tourist bump and grind to an eclectic mix of 90's RnB, African hip-hop and some European techno. After the past week of daily computer classes, the YCI and Kwacha Afrika volunteers were ready to let loose. Drinks flowed, people danced and the revelers made merry. Persistent amidst all of this were the ubiquitous sex tourists.

A weekend ago at Tembo, I had my first up-close experience with the dirty secret of Western dignity: the parade of young Kenyan women and men being courted by middle-aged tourists. Sex tourism is accepted by the locals as a necessary evil. These young men and girls do need to make a living. Its market strength is such that before anybody else hits the dance floor, the prostitutes are out there strutting their stuff for potential clients. As the night heats up, so does the business. Mustachioed men, clad in their Birkenstocks and tropical t-shirts sidle up to barely post-pubescent girls and make their intentions known with their hands, pelvises and kisses. Likewise, I witnessed two fifty year-old women hold court with two native Kenyan men apiece. The four men were dressed in traditional Masai dress complete with head feathers and colourful sarongs. Debauchery of this sort has even prompted the whoring out of traditional culture.

My own moral compass nearly got me into some trouble that night. Some British tourist was enjoying being sandwiched between two beautiful and tall Kenyan prostitutes. The scene of this stubby tourist getting his rocks off on these girls made me a little sick, so I pointed it out to my group of friends and laughed him off. Unfortunately, he didn't take too kindly to my mocking and made a point of flipping me off, which made me laugh even more. Coming over to me, he asked me if I had a problem with him and if we needed to settle it. Harnessing my best self-control, I calmly told him there wasn't a problem. He turned away and I gave him a patronizing pat on the back as he walked off. What a real man, I suppose, sticking up for himself like that. Although - a real man wouldn't have to buy his sexual gratification.

Since I promised pictures, below are a few that I have taken so far. Uploading pictures here takes roughly twenty minutes at the internet cafe. Consequently, I am posting only five pictures today.


Above are two pictures of my neighbourhood. We live in a very sandy and dusty clime replete with dirt walking paths that branch off of the one main road.

Mom, you should be happy with the picture above. It's myself and fellow volunteer Melissa doing laundry by hand in front of our homestay.

This photo is taken from an old Portuguese fort overlooking the Indian Ocean in the Old Town of Mombasa. The fort served as a transit point for the slave trade in the 1500s.

In my next few posts I'll try to delve into more of the work we do here. It has not been all fun and games here, and the schedule looks to get a lot busier. Upcoming this week we have three outreach sessions with the Matatu driver sector, a population segment that is at high risk of contracting HIV. Some of the issues we will tackle are gender roles, HIV stigma and drug use. It definitely portends to be an interesting session.

But alas, I only have so much time. I'll do my best to post ASAP. Thanks once again for following my adventure here. Miss you all.