Oh well, Sunday again ... so, without further ado, on a not so serious note: I wonder what it is about (white) guys and beaches. Well, at least about me and beaches. Some time ago I went to India to attend a meeting on the island of Goa. So, on the day of my arrival from the UK, jet lagged and wearing somewhat odd clothes namely jeans and shirt, milling around among more appropriately dressed locals enjoying the same beach and the lukewarm sea water. Well, within minutes of me sitting there, pondering crucial questions to do with the upcoming dinner menu choices, two boys (best guess, they were anywhere between 5 to 7 years of age) approached me offering themselves for sex in return for money. I wasn't just mildly taken aback, but learned later that pedophile sex tourism is flourishing on the island. So the white guy in jeans and shirt seemed a perfect target for this sort of offering. Interestingly, women were not on the local sex trade menu - at least not on the one considered appropriate for me.
Well, yesterday I cycled on Grenada's world famous Grand Anse beach. The moment I stopped at one of the the far ends of the beach a Caribbean guy approached me trying to sell me women as well as offering unspecified special services. Well, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked what special services he had in mind. The good news is that kids were not on the menu, neither were men, mind you, but a rainbow concoction of drugs.
So, this and similar experiences in other developing countries make me truly wonder about my fellow (white) men. What is it about us that drives us to establish such markets in underdeveloped societies...
