In Tehran, coronavirus doesn't stop the sex trade
TEHRAN — Known as “the world’s oldest profession,” prostitution doesn’t stop for anything. Not an economic crisis, not Ramadan, and not a deadly coronavirus outbreak.
In a country where “Morality Police” roam the streets, everyone knows exactly where to go to find prostitution. At around 11 pm on the night of May 14th, I head out toward Seyed Khandan Bridge, for a chance to talk to one of the women working in the sex trade. Most women are unwilling or uncomfortable to talk, so I just stand by the side of the street and try to learn as much as I can by observing.
A woman with light blonde hair, reflective green pants, and bright red lipstick leans into a Peugeot that’s pulled up with its windows down, blasting loud music. The two young guys inside are clearly amusing themselves, laughing out loud while they awkwardly ask the woman how much she’ll charge them to get in their car.
She quickly and confidently states her price, ready to hop in if it’s right, or refuse if it’s not. I hear her insisting on 400,000 tomans – about $95 – while the guys are willing to part with only 300. They appear to agree and the woman jumps in the car. But after driving a few meters away, they stop and she gets out. I work up the journalistic courage to approach her.
Thinking I'm another customer, she breathes a cold disappointed sigh after I introduce myself. To my surprise, she lets down her defenses and speaks to me: "Well, what do you want to know?"
She tells me her name is Mona, she is around 30 and she is studying art in a private university in Tehran. She comes from a city in northern Iran. She began her studies several years ago, but had to stop when she didn't have the money to go on.
Her first time was four years ago. When she was short on rent money, and shorter on options, she nervously decided to stand outside on the street and try her luck. “I felt like everyone was watching me, knowing what I was doing there… I hated myself at first, but then little by little I accepted it,” Mona tells me. “My first time was a 20-year-old guy. He was so young. He didn't know anything about sex at all. I taught him myself. But he was rich and I got good money from him,” she says matter-of-factly.
She’s now gotten used to the job, and doesn’t show any signs of being ashamed. Her makeup still smeared, she's already been on two jobs for the night. When I ask her if she’s concerned about the risk of catching the virus while she keeps doing this work, she responds with a clear ‘no.’
"We live everyday with the risk of getting AIDS. For a hooker, Corona is no more dangerous than AIDS,” Mona told Rudaw English. “It’s either I die of poverty or die of Corona – I choose the second one."
Mona says that she gets fewer house calls these days, but the street ones are still coming. Sex is always in demand, so business hasn't taken much of a hit from the spread of the virus. As we're talking, a Toyota Yaris stops in front of us. Mona gives them the same price system she gave me, though shortly and indifferently.
Just down the street, a very young girl – appearing perhaps even younger than 18 – is also working. Her nose is red from the cold. With the honk of a first potential customer, she runs to a car. "500 thousand. But I stay the night," I hear her tell them bluntly, and Mona blurts out a dismissive laugh.
With the polish of a saleswoman, Mona explains to me how the system works. Different sex acts come at different prices. Mona takes 400,000 tomans for an hour of sex. Staying the night costs extra. Massages with sex start at 500,000, and oral sex in the car is 100,000. Group sex with three people is 600,000. Mona prefers cash, but prefers her customers deposit the money directly into her bank account.
She has her own place too, but that's a different story. She rents an apartment near Resalat Street, on the more upscale side of Tehran, and earning six or seven million tomans a week – around $1,500 – she's saving up to buy it.
But she rarely takes a customer home with her, unless she really trusts him. If her neighbors see her bringing men home, she fears they'll kick her out of the building. “Plus, men act like animals during sex and it's not like they're dealing with a person. They just care about themselves getting off," Mona tells me.
"The money's good. I'll stop when I get rich enough," Mona says. Accurate statistics are hard to come by because prostitution is so stigmatized. A 2017 study estimated 130,800 women have done sex work at some point. By Mona’s guess, she says she knows around 50 women in Tehran who sell sex.
Prostitution and sex work has a long history in Iran, from the harems of the Persian sultans, to the permissive period before the revolution, to when Tehran’s red light district, known as “the Citadel” was burned down by Islamic revolutionaries in 1979. Today, even talking about it is strictly taboo, and a heavy burden of stigma comes with being a sex worker.
Studies have shown that women doing sex work face heightened risk of physical and psychological violence, as well as sexually-transmitted diseases and the risk of law enforcement.
Mona knows the dangers of the job. "Last year, around 9 o'clock at night, police chased after me and after some running they caught me. I spent the night in the precinct. The next day they asked me some questions and had me sign a paper that I wouldn't be doing this again. They told me next time I'd go to jail for six months. Then they let me go."
Talking about her past seems to fill Mona with regret. She changes the subject. " “My family doesn't know. But I can't stop now. I have to make a living, after all."
In a country where “Morality Police” roam the streets, everyone knows exactly where to go to find prostitution. At around 11 pm on the night of May 14th, I head out toward Seyed Khandan Bridge, for a chance to talk to one of the women working in the sex trade. Most women are unwilling or uncomfortable to talk, so I just stand by the side of the street and try to learn as much as I can by observing.
A woman with light blonde hair, reflective green pants, and bright red lipstick leans into a Peugeot that’s pulled up with its windows down, blasting loud music. The two young guys inside are clearly amusing themselves, laughing out loud while they awkwardly ask the woman how much she’ll charge them to get in their car.
She quickly and confidently states her price, ready to hop in if it’s right, or refuse if it’s not. I hear her insisting on 400,000 tomans – about $95 – while the guys are willing to part with only 300. They appear to agree and the woman jumps in the car. But after driving a few meters away, they stop and she gets out. I work up the journalistic courage to approach her.
Thinking I'm another customer, she breathes a cold disappointed sigh after I introduce myself. To my surprise, she lets down her defenses and speaks to me: "Well, what do you want to know?"
She tells me her name is Mona, she is around 30 and she is studying art in a private university in Tehran. She comes from a city in northern Iran. She began her studies several years ago, but had to stop when she didn't have the money to go on.
Her first time was four years ago. When she was short on rent money, and shorter on options, she nervously decided to stand outside on the street and try her luck. “I felt like everyone was watching me, knowing what I was doing there… I hated myself at first, but then little by little I accepted it,” Mona tells me. “My first time was a 20-year-old guy. He was so young. He didn't know anything about sex at all. I taught him myself. But he was rich and I got good money from him,” she says matter-of-factly.
She’s now gotten used to the job, and doesn’t show any signs of being ashamed. Her makeup still smeared, she's already been on two jobs for the night. When I ask her if she’s concerned about the risk of catching the virus while she keeps doing this work, she responds with a clear ‘no.’
"We live everyday with the risk of getting AIDS. For a hooker, Corona is no more dangerous than AIDS,” Mona told Rudaw English. “It’s either I die of poverty or die of Corona – I choose the second one."
Mona says that she gets fewer house calls these days, but the street ones are still coming. Sex is always in demand, so business hasn't taken much of a hit from the spread of the virus. As we're talking, a Toyota Yaris stops in front of us. Mona gives them the same price system she gave me, though shortly and indifferently.
Just down the street, a very young girl – appearing perhaps even younger than 18 – is also working. Her nose is red from the cold. With the honk of a first potential customer, she runs to a car. "500 thousand. But I stay the night," I hear her tell them bluntly, and Mona blurts out a dismissive laugh.
With the polish of a saleswoman, Mona explains to me how the system works. Different sex acts come at different prices. Mona takes 400,000 tomans for an hour of sex. Staying the night costs extra. Massages with sex start at 500,000, and oral sex in the car is 100,000. Group sex with three people is 600,000. Mona prefers cash, but prefers her customers deposit the money directly into her bank account.
She has her own place too, but that's a different story. She rents an apartment near Resalat Street, on the more upscale side of Tehran, and earning six or seven million tomans a week – around $1,500 – she's saving up to buy it.
But she rarely takes a customer home with her, unless she really trusts him. If her neighbors see her bringing men home, she fears they'll kick her out of the building. “Plus, men act like animals during sex and it's not like they're dealing with a person. They just care about themselves getting off," Mona tells me.
"The money's good. I'll stop when I get rich enough," Mona says. Accurate statistics are hard to come by because prostitution is so stigmatized. A 2017 study estimated 130,800 women have done sex work at some point. By Mona’s guess, she says she knows around 50 women in Tehran who sell sex.
Prostitution and sex work has a long history in Iran, from the harems of the Persian sultans, to the permissive period before the revolution, to when Tehran’s red light district, known as “the Citadel” was burned down by Islamic revolutionaries in 1979. Today, even talking about it is strictly taboo, and a heavy burden of stigma comes with being a sex worker.
Studies have shown that women doing sex work face heightened risk of physical and psychological violence, as well as sexually-transmitted diseases and the risk of law enforcement.
Mona knows the dangers of the job. "Last year, around 9 o'clock at night, police chased after me and after some running they caught me. I spent the night in the precinct. The next day they asked me some questions and had me sign a paper that I wouldn't be doing this again. They told me next time I'd go to jail for six months. Then they let me go."
Talking about her past seems to fill Mona with regret. She changes the subject. " “My family doesn't know. But I can't stop now. I have to make a living, after all."