A gaudy red sign hangs outside the entrance to Chunfenglou (
Kueisuei Street once bustled and glittered with numerous brothels and their clientele at night. "In the old days, it was like a street with a lot of movie theaters," said Mrs. Chu, a local resident. "It was so popular."
As in many other establishments nearby, Chunfenglou had rooms upstairs where high-class prostitutes drank with their clients, and rooms downstairs for "resting." And when evening came, the whole neighborhood would come alive with activity.
PHOTO: GEORGE TSORNG, TAIPEI TIMES
Times have changed, and the open prostitution and bright bordellos are long gone. But last Sunday's reopening of Chunfenglou, which closed its doors when licensed prostitution was abolished two years ago, seems to have brought back something of the neighborhood's old festive spirit.
The new Chunfenglou is now a teahouse, not a brothel. Its mission is to serve as a testimony to the vanished brothel culture of Kueisuei Street, and as a base for activists fighting for the rights of Taipei's sex workers.
"Here we have only erotic activities, not sex deals," said Wang Fang-ping (
PHOTO: YU SEN-LUN, TAIPEI TIMES
And for Wang Fang-ping, this is exactly the kind of atmosphere she wants to encourage for this teahouse. "It's a place where you can talk about sex freely, in a healthy way, and the sisters will tell you everything they know about safe sex," Wang said.
Here you see what a brothel used to look like. Friday is karaoke night, and there are screenings of films and documentaries about sex workers every other Saturday. And of course, there are the services of the sex workers themselves. They don't sell sex anymore, but they will share their experiences with you.
A dozen old photos of the ladies, which customers used to choose their girls, still hang on the wall at the entrance to Chunfenglou. The wall is now decorated with a pink feather boa and several sex toys, and on the floor are two cushions that look like sex organs, and another one in the shape of a pair of lips.
"When we were working, we used to sit on the bench outside the house, waiting. When a man approached you, he would give you a look. You would give him a look back and then you knew you'd walk with him into the room," said 53-year-old Ah Ying, retired two years ago and one of the former sex workers who now work in Chunfenglou. "They seldom used the photos to pick."
Ah Ying's old "working room" is small affair, with worn sheets and a thin blanket spread across a twin bed. Two sexy dresses hang next to the tiny dressing table. Everything is bathed in red fluorescent light.
"Red light makes your face look nicer, and customers can't see the powder on your face, or the wrinkles," said Chia-mei, another former sex worker and current staff at the house.
How many customers did she have?
"Thousands!"Ah Ying replied with a proud look. "I've seen all sorts of sick freaks on this bed. Guys with fetishes, people into S&M, and guys with huge equipment."
How did she cope?
"If it wasn't too weird, I'd just bear it for 15 minutes. There was one guy who liked to lick and suck on my high-heel shoes. The shoes were sometimes very dirty but he still wanted to do it"
What about the big ones?
"I was freaked out! I could only let a third of it inside me. I'd just close my legs really tight to make him feel better," she said.
According to Li-chun, 63, the oldest of the three former sex workers at the new Chunfenglou, the work might have been hard but it was never dangerous. "Since we had a license, we could always call the cops to help us deal with rude or violent customers. The police station was nearby. And if you shouted out for the police, everybody could hear you," she said.
"Besides, we were required to have health checkups once every two weeks. None of us ever got AIDS."
According to Wang, it was society, not the ladies, who gave the job a bad name. As a labor activist, Wang has been in the forefront of the struggle to ensure the rights of sex workers since then-mayor Chen Shui-bian ended licensed prostitution in 1997. She became famous last year when she supported the re-legalization of prostitution during her campaign for a Taipei City Council seat.
"When we were planning the next stage of our campaign to help sex workers, when we tried to help these sisters find new jobs or develop new skills, we realized that their former occupations should not be viewed as a stigma," Wang said. "Instead, these experiences ought to be seen as a rich resource and something good for their resumes."
"Real sex workers are here to communicate with the public that sex work is like any other job," Wang added.
Since its reopening on Sunday, the Chunfenglou has been crowded with all manner of visitors. There were three 50-something divorcees seeking advice from the sisters about their sexual frustration. There was the 60-year-old man who was there to revisit memories from 30 years ago.
But a memory is just a memory. The reality that faces these former prostitutes is still harsh. Illiterate and having never completed elementary school, they've had a hard time finding a job during the two-year economic downturn which has coincided with the abolition of legalized prostitution.
Li-chun was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago and owes money for her treatment. Chia-mei has two children and is also in debt because of her mother's illness. And Ah Ying, though proud of her younger days, finds it hard to even pay her rent.
The three hope to make ends meet with their new jobs at the teahouse. Tea is only NT$30, and their homemade Chinese-herb vinegar (
The vinegar is a heath drink, used to improve circulation and combat fatigue. "In those days when we had lots of customers, we always drank this to maintain our health and energy," Ah Ying said.
As Ah Ying spoke, an old man peered through the door curiously, looking at the signboard of Chunfenglou and hesitating. Ah Ying called out to him immediately in a voice that would have been familiar to her guests 20 years ago: "Come on in my guest! Come take a look, and have some tea."
Chunfenglou is located at 5, Lane 194 Kueisuei St., Taipei, and is open Monday through Friday from 10am to 6pm, and every other Saturday from 2pm to 5:30pm. More information can be obtained by calling tel (02) 2553-6341.
In late October of 1873 the government of Japan decided against sending a military expedition to Korea to force that nation to open trade relations. Across the government supporters of the expedition resigned immediately. The spectacle of revolt by disaffected samurai began to loom over Japanese politics. In January of 1874 disaffected samurai attacked a senior minister in Tokyo. A month later, a group of pro-Korea expedition and anti-foreign elements from Saga prefecture in Kyushu revolted, driven in part by high food prices stemming from poor harvests. Their leader, according to Edward Drea’s classic Japan’s Imperial Army, was a samurai
The following three paragraphs are just some of what the local Chinese-language press is reporting on breathlessly and following every twist and turn with the eagerness of a soap opera fan. For many English-language readers, it probably comes across as incomprehensibly opaque, so bear with me briefly dear reader: To the surprise of many, former pop singer and Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) ex-lawmaker Yu Tien (余天) of the Taiwan Normal Country Promotion Association (TNCPA) at the last minute dropped out of the running for committee chair of the DPP’s New Taipei City chapter, paving the way for DPP legislator Su
It’s hard to know where to begin with Mark Tovell’s Taiwan: Roads Above the Clouds. Having published a travelogue myself, as well as having contributed to several guidebooks, at first glance Tovell’s book appears to inhabit a middle ground — the kind of hard-to-sell nowheresville publishers detest. Leaf through the pages and you’ll find them suffuse with the purple prose best associated with travel literature: “When the sun is low on a warm, clear morning, and with the heat already rising, we stand at the riverside bike path leading south from Sanxia’s old cobble streets.” Hardly the stuff of your
April 22 to April 28 The true identity of the mastermind behind the Demon Gang (魔鬼黨) was undoubtedly on the minds of countless schoolchildren in late 1958. In the days leading up to the big reveal, more than 10,000 guesses were sent to Ta Hwa Publishing Co (大華文化社) for a chance to win prizes. The smash success of the comic series Great Battle Against the Demon Gang (大戰魔鬼黨) came as a surprise to author Yeh Hung-chia (葉宏甲), who had long given up on his dream after being jailed for 10 months in 1947 over political cartoons. Protagonist