Prostitution is Endemic in Mexico.

Unless religion puts a damper on things, anywhere women have little opportunities compared to men, prostitution, overt or underground, flourishes. Mexico’s problem is more the high percentage of young women out of work, or marginalized by lack of education. It is hard for an attractive female to turn down $500 US dollars a night, when all she can make back in the provinces is that amount in a month, especially when she is a single mother with one or more kids to feed.

Prostitution and all its guises, like lap dancing, massaging, or giving old Johnny a quick rub, has become huge business in Mexico City’s Zona Rosa area. This once pleasant neighbourhood of cafes, restaurants and theatres in now best avoided at night when the strip club touts take over and the young, drug-dealing spivs rule the roost. Dallying with street whores in the Plaza Garibaldi, or anywhere away from the town centre is akin to taking your wallet, watch and jewellery and throwing them into a river, you will certainly be accosted, more often than not by the police that guard the fringe areas of the place.

Drugs, greed and the dangers of AIDS have taken any pretence of romance from a sojourn with a lady of the night these days. Many years ago, buying a woman for an hour or a night was a harmless, low-key diversion for both the girl and the client. The clubs were simple places with a juke box and occasional mariachis. The girls was happy to spend an hour or so dancing and having a few real drinks. Although money was obviously the prime mover, it was not made unpleasant as it is today. Some girls had regular customers and really had genuine feelings for them. The waiters, police and management were nice people, happy to chat and protective of both the girls and the visitors.

If anyone has visited a modern sex club they realize how ghastly the experience has become in the Third Millennium. You are hounded to spend money from the minute you enter: unless you are prepared to pay a small fortune, there is no real sex. Most of the girls have a drug dependency and many are lesbians or transvestites. You are in real danger if you take one of these woman back to your hotel or flat. A friend of mine was robbed and shot to death recently by a gangster summoned by the woman in the early hours of the morning and they were never caught, despite the FBI becoming involved.

The economic conditions that drive women into sexual slavery and drug dependence have also affected the ability of married men to maintain the “Casa Chica.” (little or second home), also known as the “Segunda Frente,” (second front). This tradition is part of society among Mexicans of all economic levels and tolerated by wives who have turned a blind eye. There is little shame being a kept woman in Mexico, if fact, no little cachet if the man is successful, wealthy and/or famous. This situation has gone on from the days of the Conquistadores (Conquerors) in the 16^th. Century. Cortez himself travelled with his concubine, the Indian, Malinche. She helped him overthrow Moctezuma and the Aztec Nation, which didn’t prevent the soldier from abandoning her when he returned to Spain. In truth, the life of a mistress of a wealthy man is vastly superior in most ways to that of the legal spouse. The reasons are obvious, so you can figure them out yourself, along with the disadvantages.

Women in Mexico also take lovers. But they still have to be most discrete as the law favours the man, and machismo brings physical danger to the woman and her lover. Being cuckolded here is called putting on the horns (cuernos) and must be dealt with by any real man. (Although actually, today, a man will often do as his woman does, turn a blind eye as revenge can be too costly).

The once colourful city, Guadalajara, has been radically changed by drug money and sex clubs to the extent it is called “Little Chicago.” Even in San Luis Potosi, the town of 100 churches, up to 100 prostitutes ply their services at the weekend.

I was quite taken aback recently by a trip along Calle Sullivan and cross streets in Mexico City late on a Saturday night. I was with a friend from Australia and his 12-year-old son I had just met at the airport. The streets were lined with “working girls,” reaching into the car. “What are all these ladies, dad?” the youngster enquired. My buddy, R--, thought quickly and said, “They are mothers, son, looking for a kid to adopt.” O….. was a bit young for the truth! This all made him quite thoughtful.

One thing the girls still are in Mexican clubs: phenomenally attractive and not at all like their granite-faced, lumpy peers in Europe and the US, or their poor sisters on the streets of Mexico City. But I am glad my days of needing this type of stimulus regularly are long gone. I hate all drugs and I’m too romantic for today’s cash cows, and certainly not wealthy enough!