The Most Beautiful Girls
November 5, 2006
She’s walking towards me, a smile on her perfectly made up face, her lips glossy and red, her black hair set in curls and her clothes crisp and impeccable. She moves with a forced grace, as if this is not easy for her, as if it’s a thing she has just learned, but she is practicing, yes, she is trying. I hear the click-click of her high heels and then she stops a few steps away from me and the ghost of a smile touches her face.
“Can I help you?” she says, and for a second I feel like somebody scattered my thoughts with an invisible hand, shaken them, like fruits from a tree and I grab for them, looking for the words that were supposed to come but got lost on the way out. I look at her for a few seconds, trying to deny what I just heard, to find an excuse for the deep voice (“is she a smoker?” my mind offers quickly) but the truth is I already know.
“Yes”, my voice comes out a bit shaky, “I would like to know if you have a tester for this shade of lipstick”, I say and point at the shelf in front of me.
“Which one, madam?” she replies curtly and her voice comes out trying to sound sweet but stopping at an oily version.
My hand goes to the shelf and picks up the culprit and I hand it in to the salesgirl.
“Just a minute, please”, the oily voice replies, and then she turns around and goes to the back of the shop in search of the lipstick.
I stare at her back, I can’t help it, and I’m thinking “She almost got me, how could I not see it before she started talking to me?” Her slim figure, the perfect face, and still….
I turn back and examine the other cosmetics on the shelf. I’m thinking about buying a new mascara and look at the colors, what a shame they don’t have green, I like green, it would only enhance the color of my eyes and before my thoughts can go any further, the owner of the oily voice is back with a “Sorry madam, we don’t have that color but you can choose another one, perhaps this one?” I smile politely and manage a soft “no, thank you” before I move to another section of the shop.
I smile at my foolish reaction, reminding myself that this was not the first (and most likely won’t be the last) transsexual (or transvestite, for that matter) I’ve seen along the years I’ve spent in Thailand.
The first time I saw one it was in Pattaya, a city by the sea, where me and my husband had decided to spend our Christmas holiday. We were walking along a street brightly illuminated with colorful neon signs, advertising bars, restaurants, massage parlors and the like. Pretty girls dressed in skimpy costumes welcomed the passersby with “Hello, sir, madam, come in, please”. A few of them had some sort of uniforms on, Asian versions of Britney Spears with a bar in the background named (what else?) “The Classroom”. The street was crowded with people, mostly tourists wandering about and admiring the view.
We passed by a building with a crowd in front. Curiosity, that little devil, guided our steps to the place and we followed. It was a cabaret, noisy, full of light and people. A group of showgirls, gorgeous showgirls (it reminded me of Las Vegas movies) stood outside, taking photographs with people.
“Come, come, hello, come and take a photo!”, they invite in their thick masculine voices that seem out of place and make me feel weird somehow. A beautiful “girl” has her arm extended gracefully, but her movements are too feminine and a bit forced. She places her hand on the shoulder of the young man next to her and smiles at the camera. My eyes are drawn tot her, studying, trying to find the flaw, the one thing that will tell me that this is not a real girl, that it’s just a guy playing dress-up. Her body is perfect white, slim, her breasts in a tight corset that emphasizes her figure and perfect legs. Her face is like a doll’s, beautifully painted and sweet. If it weren’t for the voice, you could swear it was a real girl you were seeing.
“Come, 20 Baht for a picture”, she smiles at the approaching customer, holding out her left arm in an inviting gesture.
There are plenty of people about who look at the beautiful “girls”. Some of them take pictures but most of them just stare, like me. It’s an open zoo and the entrance is free.
Years have passed since that day and I’ve become accustomed to seeing them, on the streets, in the shops, on buses, everywhere. I’ve learned to recognize them by their big hands, the forced feminine way in which they move and talk, but most of all their voices, thick, masculine, strained to appear something they’re not.
For the Thai people, tolerant in many ways and intolerant in others, transsexuals are not unusual; they are part of the culture and accepted. “Live and let live” seems like a good motto and one that people believe in strongly here. Which reminds me of another one: “The most beautiful girls in Thailand were guys.”
October 29, 2006
Comments (7):
The Voices in my Head:
Pilgrim, It was interesting to me the journey my own mind made and I suppose that was the point of this story... I started out completely comiserating...understanding the discomfort, the embarrassment, the judgement. Then, as my mind began to process these thoughts, politically correct filters came in and swiped them off the slate...and replaced them with "appropriate" questions, such as Lilla suggested, in wondering if you would redeem yourself of bigotry... This is an interesting piece, not because of the pictures you paint or the story you told, but for the journey it takes the reader on in their own minds and in coming face to face with a part of ourselves that we either do not like, or strive to get rid of under the banner of political correctness. Well done, Voices~
Pilgrim:
Lilla, your other name threw me off, I didn't realize it was you. Until next time....
Lilla:
I don't understand Pilgrim, My comments are here below yours... I just used the title of one of my other blogs.. 'an ordinary life' instead of 'envirowarrior...' sorry....
Pilgrim:
To Lilla: try again. I'd like to read your opinion on the matter. To "An Ordinary Life": A fascination? I don't know, probably, to see something your eyes tell you it's true only to be contradicted by your ears. It's a strange experience every time it happens....
envirowarrior/Lilla:
Okay, sorry, it didn't show on my screen immediately.
envirowarrior:
where do these comments go to...?
An Ordinary Life:
Hello again Pilgrim, This was a nice story to read with my morning cuppa. I enjoyed the way it drew me in and held me there... right on the edge - till the end - of whether it would redeem itself of any undertones of bigotry... and then, bang... there it was the last line! I think it's a fasicnation we all share...Is it me, or are there more transexuals in Thailand than anywhere else in the world? Bravo, I loved your progression into this new fascinating reality.
We all have stories to tell. Sometimes we bring them forth and sometimes we keep them buried. Here are my stories. I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. 
