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In 1949, just after the civil war , Mao embarked upon a series of campaigns that eradicated prostitution from mainland China.
Mao claimed:”we need to clean the house!”
Within a few years, the new regime purged prostitutes around the country. Some of them got married, some went home and some became workers in factories.
1901, two wealthy businessmen and singer
Prostitution industry began to flourish in Beijing. In the image: late Qing Dynasty Beijing Bada hutong prostitutes.
In southern regions, prostitution industry was more developed.
Late Qing Dynasty Beijing clients and prostitutes.
At age 13 she became a prostitute after her father died and financial difficulties for her family occurred. She first became a prostitute while on a flower boat.
In 1887 Hong Jun , a major Chinese official, met Sai Jinhua while he visited Suzhou and she became her concubine.
The two moved to Beijing. Empress Cixi appointed Hong Jun as the Chinese envoy to Europe, and so Hong Jun traveled to Russia, Austria, the Netherlands, and Germany as part of his diplomatic duties.
Sai Jinhua lived in Europe for three years. Wenxian Zhang , the author of Encyclopedia of Prostitution and Sex Work, Volume 2 , wrote that when Sai Jinhua was in Berlin, she “reportedly” became the acquaintance of Alfred von Waldersee .
In 1894 Sai Jinhua became a prostitute again because Hong Jun’s relatives did not support her financially.
In 1900 Waldersee became the chief commander of the occupation army after the end of the Boxer Rebellion. Sai Jinhua renewed her connection with Waldersee. Wenxian Zhang wrote that Sai Jinhua “was credited with influencing Waldsee to moderate the harsh treatment of Beijing residents.”
In 1903, along Shaanxi Lane, Sai Jinhua created a Nanban , or a southern prostitute troupe.
She capitalized on the rumors of her romance with Waldersee and became very popular.
In 1905 Fengling, a courtesan working under Sai Jinhua’s direction committed suicide, Authorities charged Sai Jinhua with torturing Fengling, causing her to commit suicide. Sai Jinhua was placed in prison due to the charge.
Sai Jinhua was expelled from Beijing, and therefore banished to her hometown.
The life of Sai Jinhua had been adapted into several films, plays, and television series.
In works she is portrayed as a heroine of the Chinese nation who saves the country single-handedly during a crisis. [ wikipedia ]
Capital courtesan Xiao Fengxian (right) and Xiaogui . Xiao was the wife of Cai E , a renowned general in the Republic of China.
In 1915, with the support of Cai and his troops, Yunnan province declared its independence from Yuan’s rule. Cai met Xiao in Beijing. She was a prostitute in a local brothel.
He was moved by her sad story and paid the brothel to release her. Later, when Cai was trapped in Beijing fighting against Yuan Shikai , Xiao helped him save his life.
Wang Yuexian, the most famous prostitute in Shanghai.
The picture shows a late Qing Shanghai prostitute to accompany clients to play mahjong.
A prostitute sent to a Shanghai restaurant. When the prostitute was a young girl of 8 or 9 she would be sent out being carried on someone’s shoulders.
A prostitute smokes opium with her two clients at a Shanghai smoking bar.
A Chang San Brothel in Shanghai. A Chang San was a type of prostitute during the Republic of China. She would play the lyre, take on calligraphy and painting.
1895, street performers. By the late Qing Dynasty, many women were sold to brothels due to poverty.
Singing and performing were two of the main tasks for prostitutes during the Qing Dynasty.
Application for a prostitute to local police station.
Prostitutes performing at a teahouse in Beijing.
The Temptress Moon Illustrated: pornographic newspapers appeared in some big cities such as Guangzhou (1905, Fun Days News), Tianjin (1933, Temptress Moon Illustrated), and Beijing.
Liaoning Province. In the 1930s, after the Japanese invasion, sex industry was rampant.
Shenyang, 1946. Chinese prostitutes dressed in kimono await their Japanese clients.
A Shenyang brothel, 1946. Some brothels were managed by the Japanese consulate and only provided service to upper-middle-class. Others only provided their services to Korean and Russian clients.
June 1946. The war is finished. A staff member of the UN gives an injection to a Shanghai prostitute. From 1946, Shanghai required prostitutes with sexually transmitted diseases to seek medical treatment.
Hostesses dance with American sailors.
Shortly after taking power in 1949, the Communist Party of China embarked upon a series of campaigns that purportedly eradicated prostitution from mainland China by the early 1960s.
By the end of 1949, 224 brothels were sealed up in Beijing, over 450 prostitutes were sent to prison and 1,268 more left the brothels and were moved to correctional facilities.
Jinan correction facility. In 1951 Shandong banned all the brothels from the province.
Suzhou correctional facility in 1951.
Beijing correctional facility in November 1949.
Two brothel owners confess to dabbling in prostitution in Beijing in 1951. During the Beijing reform campaign, two brothels owners were sentenced to death and another 357 received different degrees of punishment.
In some correctional facility prostitutes learned a work and later were sent to factories or hospitals.
Prostitutes participating in epidemic prevention teams inoculate children.
Prostitutes in Shanghai are sent to a vocational school in 1951.
By the early 1960s, government had basically wiped out visible forms of prostitution from mainland China.
According to the PRC government, venereal diseases were almost completely eliminated from the mainland contemporaneously with the control of prostitution.
To mark this victory, all 29 venereal disease research institutes were closed in 1964.
The resurgence of prostitution in mainland China has coincided with the introduction of Deng Xiaoping’s liberalization of Chinese economic policy in 1978.
Sexually transmitted diseases also made a resurgence around the same time as prostitution, and have been directly linked to prostitution.
Topic: History of prostitution in China
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I used to read a lot of historical fiction about China in the 19th and 20th centuries. One of the strangest things I have read was about a local practice or fashion of Chinese prostitutes who wore painted on mustaches to attract a certain clientele. Can anybody verify this for me and provide a reference? I have no idea where I read this.
Many of them were little girls, with disfigured feet. Men were so cruel
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RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
Outside, I signal to Anne, my upstairs neighbor, who has been waiting out in my car, that I'm going to stash my cameras in my trunk. And I am slamming it shut when I see her again: the young woman from Ferg's shop. Still sipping at her Pepsi, she's sitting on a low wall alongside the Diaz Market, a Cuban mom-and-pop store facing Ponce de Leon.
She is, I quickly realize, a prostitute.
My gear stashed, I walk around and climb into my car...
I could take her picture for the book, I think. Well...maybe I could. How would she react, I wonder, if I approached her about it?
I feel nervous about that. Also about launching the book. I hadn't been planning on starting today.
But, George, you've got to start some day....
I look over at Anne. "What do you think, Anne? You think I should see if that prostitute up there will let me take her picture for the book?"
Anne follows my eyes...looks at the woman herself. "Yeah, go ahead," she urges. "Go for it."
And in less than a minute, with two cameras dangling from my neck, I am face to face with the young woman.
She is standing now, leaning against the brick facade of the Market.
"I was wondering...if I could...take your picture."
"What for? " she comes back. "The police?"
"No," I say. "For a book I'm doing on Ponce de Leon. It'll show all the...you know...all the different...types of people along the street."
She doesn't immediately answer. Her eyes drift from me to somewhere across the street.
"Okay," she says then softly. But she still doesn't look at me; her eyes remain focused off into the distance.
And I don't say anything as I lift a camera to my eye, position myself, and frame her in my viewfinder, making sure to get in a billboard towering above her in the background to show that her environment is the street. I squeeze the shutter.
"Your girlfriend doesn't mind?" she asks me, glancing down the hill toward my car.
"She's not my girlfriend," I let her know. And I bring the camera back to my eye, framing just her, waiting for a natural expression.
"How're you doing?" I ask, hoping to put her at ease.
"I've got to go to jail today," is her reply. "If I don't get two hundred dollars by this afternoon."
It's late in the afternoon now, I think to myself.
__________________________________________
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE, a new two-volume ebook containing many, many more photographs and much more detailed text than appears on Flickr:
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
Ronda stands, slipping on her jacket. She says—"I'll walk you out, George...I gotta go out anyway."
In the elevator going down, she's quiet. Until she says: "I hope I don't see Charlie."
"You know," she says, reminding me: "The one I ripped that seven hundred dollars off of. I'm always worried about seeing him."
"Is he the type," I ask, "that might get violent?"
"Somebody told me he would. He has two guns that I know of."
On the sidewalk outside, as I'm saying good-bye, I notice that Ronda is standing in the path of a narrow but brilliant shaft of sunlight. I turn to see its source. The lowering afternoon sun is casting her rays between two tall buildings. Casting them down upon Ronda like a spotlight beamed from the heavens.
My photographer's eye stimulated, I reach quickly for a camera…
I've got to get a picture of Ronda in this light, where all but her is in the shadows...
On the other side of Peachtree, suddenly, are two mounted policemen, their horses' hoof-beats sounding on the pavement.
"Yeah!" Now Ronda gets excited. "Get a picture of me with these cops in it! Hurry!" she commands as I fumble with the f-stops. "Hurry! Take it! Take it!"
I snap the shutter—just in time, I hope—catching Ronda, plus the cops on their horses; and I'm taking more just of Ronda when all at once her face lights up.
Her eyes, gleeful, are fixed on some man about halfway down the block. She skips down the sidewalk to him. I watch as they hug then together walk toward me.
The guy, I see as they come closer, is in his twenties, wearing a made-to-look-like-leather vinyl jacket and a felt hat, its brim turned down.
Ronda does the introductions—quite properly as always. He's Michael Hoffman, a good friend of hers, although she hasn't seen him in ages. And I am George Mitchell, "the one who wrote Ponce de Leon." Michael's into photography himself—he owns a Cannon system, he says—and he's always admired the pictures in Ponce de Leon.
"Well, right now, I'm doing a whole book on Ronda," I tell him.
"Way to go, Ronda!" He grins widely, showing some black and rotting teeth.
But then a shadow crosses her face and her gaze drops downward toward the sidewalk. "Yeah...well..." she surprises me by saying, "I'm not too sure about what I'm representing."
"I love Ronda," says Michael, turning to me. "She's not like the rest of the girls out here." He puts his arm around her. "She's...she's about like a six-year-old. And I've never seen her get angry."
You just don't know, I think to myself, having heard her express such extreme anger about her mother so many times. You just don't know.
As they catch up on each other, I photograph them...
And at one point, Michael, facing Ronda, places his hands on her shoulders...and Ronda's eyes close, and the tension disappears from her face...
Briefly disappears...just as it had a couple of months ago when I placed my hand on her forehead to feel for fever.
Michael leaves, and as I am putting away my cameras, Ronda, watching me, mutters, "You could get a picture of Charlie putting a bullet through my head."
"What?!" I exclaim. "That's not something I want to get a picture of."
"Well," she says, and there's no little laugh, "it could happen."
______________________________________________________Photo and text excerpted from RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
… then get some of her cuddling with Joey and a couple of her other favorites. Finally I suggest that I get some of Melvin and her together.
It's an idea that's quite obviously agreeable to Ronda, since she immediately sidles up seductively to Melvin, who's been observing the photo session from the bathroom doorway. "Why don't I slip into something sexy?" she asks him, whispering alluringly, but loudly enough for me to hear. "Let him get some pictures of us..."
Melvin vetoes the idea with a quick shake of his head...
So with Ronda still in her jeans, the two of them sit on the bed, their arms around each other... And Ronda begins easing her head downward...easing it slowly downward...toward Melvin's lap...
"We need a portrait!" protests Melvin.
"To hell with portraits—" Ronda lifts her head—"we've got enough portraits!" And she presses her mouth to Melvin's and slides in her tongue.
By the time she withdraws it, Melvin is red in the face. "I'm gonna make you smile," he tells her—something she almost never does for pictures.
"You're gonna make me smile?"—she smiles long enough for one snap of the shutter—"then I'm gonna make you kiss me." And falling back on an elbow, she pulls Melvin's lips to hers and gives him a kiss to remember, and then takes the lead—
—and they smooch and neck from one side of the bed to the other.
Excerpted from RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREETWALKER. You may buy volume one of this ebook or read fifty pages for free here:
It's so cold in July, it's snowing crack cocaine, and I am high!
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUTE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
Excerpted from RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREETWALKER. You may buy volume one of this ebook or read fifty pages for free here:
********************************************************************************
…A bleak silence falls over the room.
"Did you bring some pictures, George?" Ronda finally asks.
"I was going to print today, but the water's off in my darkroom."
"Oh," she says, no longer sounding so mad.
"I was going to print some very beautiful pictures of you with...with the bears…. However, do you know what this book needs?"
"It needs a picture of what you look like right now. ... And then you can look at it."
Ronda erupts. "What's wrong with the way I look now? I'd like to know what the fuck y'all think I look like! I've got fucking strep throat….”
Outside the sun has set, and the room is so dark now that I cannot clearly see Ronda's features. Speaking gently I say, "You know, Ronda, I don't know about the problems between you and Melvin or whatever, but when I was talking about how you look right now? You're sick with your throat, I understand that. But your eyes ...are just...heavy as hell... Like bloodshot."
"Well—[her voice weak]—you can call my mother—[pathetic, really]—and ask my mother...if it's not true...that the first thing that people looked at was my eyes ...and know I was sick. My eyes tell everything !"
"Okay," I say. "I know you could care less about this project right now... I was just thinking about getting a picture of you in bad shape. But I don't need to, you know."
"Huh? Under the covers? That would be all right," I say. "So just get back in bed."
When I get back from my car with my camera, Ronda is no longer in the chair at the dresser, neither is she under the covers, but is sitting on the edge of the bed cuddling Bob in her lap.
Excerpted from RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREETWALKER. You may buy volume one of this ebook or read fifty pages for free here:
RONDA: AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF A SOUTHERN STREET PROSTITUE
To read about this photo of Ronda, see Volume Two
Here is where you can read a sample of Volume 2 that begins with Ronda's first day in the hospital:
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