Human Trafficking

When I finally managed to get out of Iran in 1998, the first place that I ended up in was Larnaca, Cyprus. Larnaca is a small city on the southern coast of Cyprus Island, with beaches of white sand that shine in the Mediterranean sun. Before northern Cyprus was taken over by Turkey, and the island was brutally divided along ethnic lines, Famagusta was the most thriving Mediterranean resort town, but alas, Famagusta is now turned into a ghost town and can no longer be the destination for the British tourists who long for the white sand, azure waters, lots of sunshine, and young, plump, voluptuous Ukrainian, Belarusan, Hungarian, Romanian, or Albanian girls.

At the customs in Larnaca airport, there were at least ten gates were new arrivals were processed. Eight of these had signs that said “EU Arrivals.” The other two said “International Arrivals.” Tourists from European Union countries were quickly processed and allowed entry through the “EU Arrivals” gates. Everyone else, including me, had to wait their turns in the “International Arrival” lines.

On that particular day there were the passengers from my flight, mostly richer Iranian families, who could afford to spend their vacation in Cyprus, far from the harsh access of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards who seem to have nothing better to do than to make sure that not a single strand of hair can be seen from under the headscarf of a woman in the streets; there were simultaneously two British Airway arrivals, and a Russian Aero Float landing.

As I was waiting my turn in the line, I could not help but notice that most of the British Airway passengers were middle-aged men while the Aero Float seemed to have been an all female flight of young girls.

On my way to my hotel, I expressed my astonishment to the cab driver who spoke some English – everyone in Cyprus speaks some English. He told me that quite a few British men actually move to Cyprus after retirement. With their retirement pension they can enjoy a high standard of living in Larnaca, and get to have as much fun as they will with the East European girl that flood into the Island every day. Later through a restaurant owner, who took me out to a nightclub one evening, I found out that these girls are flown in through visas sent out on their behalf by Cypriot entertainment industry owners. Just as the article by Goodwin reveals “commonly the passports of these ‘guest workers’ are confiscated on arrival and the salaries [are] withheld.” The customs officers know that these young girls are not tourists. They know why they are in Cyprus. The police know too. They simply condone. The Russian Mafia has a strong presence in Cyprus, and bribing government officials is a very common practice.

Between sex entertainment, prostitution, forced marriages, domestic work, and forced labor in sweetshops, women and children seem to be the prime victims of human trafficking and the number one targets of the new wave of slavery around the world. Feminization of immigration appears to be another way of perpetuation of patriarchy. What with the upper-middle class males in the developed countries who, faced with the increasing expectation of egalitarianism on their wives’ part, seek to use the domestic labor of trafficked women from third world countries, and with the morally corrupt men from the wealthier countries, who want to gratify their sick desires by objectifying helpless women and children of poorer nations, it appears that the interplay of gender, race, and class simply works against the women.

The governments of the developing countries usually find the sex trade a lucrative source of hard currency, and despite the illegality of prostitution, they not only turn a blind eye on it, but at times cooperate with the owners of such businesses as brothels, and night clubs. “The government periodically promises to crack down on the industry, but because of the amount of money it generates, invariably looks the other way.”