I have spent a lot of time in San Jose , but had an extra day and night to spend in the city. As such, I looked for ideas as to what I could do that was a little bit out of the ordinary. I wanted to write a story on San Jose, but was lacking creative material. For those who do not know the laws of Costa Rica, prostitution is a completely legal trade, and one that is quite prevalent, especially among foreign travellers. As long as a girl is of age, has proper identification listing when her last medical examination was, prostitution is a common, if not endorsed, trade in the country.
Thus, the majority of women in the trade use massage parlours, strip clubs, and hotels like the Hotel del Rey as not only their office, but their source of protection. For the record, I want to state that I am in no way neither condoning or endorsing prostitution in this post.
As I step through the glass doors of this famous hotel my heart races as I know that everyone outside the doors, as well as inside, thinks they know the reason I am there.
I walk to the reception desk as a pre-season NFL game plays on the television and smoke hangs gently in the air above wooden tables and green casino felt. As I register in the book of the hotel I can feel eyes upon me, both from foreign men and the women that sit grouped together at tables smoking cigarettes. I check into my room and enter the huge space. As the digital clock on the nightstand beside me flickers to remind me that the evening is approaching I feel my stomach rumble from hunger and know that I have to come out from my hiding spot to find food and drink.
Why did I come here? My journalist curiosity has driven me to spend a night among the weary. I leave the hotel with my head down, hoping no one will recognize me, even though I am in a foreign land, or perhaps just hiding my shame.
