Travel
In the pink,Madam
by Yvonne van Dongen
There is a house in Kalgoorlie,they call Questa Casa.
The name’s right. Carmel. Perfect moniker for the madam of a brothel, methinks. The tour of Questa Casa starts at two, she tells me over the phone. No need to book. Just turn up.
My imagination paints her as big, brassy and blowsy, but when I greet her in the flesh, I’m surprised to find there’s a lot less flesh than I imagined. And a lot more clothing. Carmel is a small elderly woman in a loose jumper and a lot of make-up. She has a careful, rather genteel way of speaking. This woman could be the principal of a private girls’ finishing school, not the madam of Kalgoorlie’s oldest brothel. Okay, so maybe those eyebrows are a little too heavy, the rouge slightly circus. But still.
The mystery that is Carmel Galvin and Questa Casa will no doubt be revealed on this $20 tour. There are two other tours of the last brothels in this mining town in Western Australia but Questa Casa is both the oldest house and the oldest brothel in Kalgoorlie. I like the look of the low pink corrugated-iron establishment when I drive past. It’s got a feminine pioneering thing going. Also, the tourist office -recommends it as the most authentic.
Which is why I am seated with three 50-plus couples in a semicircle listening to Carmel tell her story. It begins 15 years ago in Queensland after the death of her husband. Grieving and depressed, she goes to her doctor, who tells her she needs to find a new interest, something to occupy her. So, she reads all the “business for sale” columns in the paper. Most businesses are described as having potential, which Carmel says is just code for not making any money. Then out of the blue she gets an envelope from a woman named Marlene, who says she’s got a brothel for sale but anyone who wants to own it has to pass a strict test.
Carmel keeps the clipping and when none of her other leads amount to anything, she takes out the clipping again and on a whim contacts Marlene. “What’s the test?” she asks. “You have to come and look at it,” replies Marlene. So she does. Carmel flies to Kalgoorlie and allows herself to be shown the sights. And so appalled is she by the dry, dusty town she tries to get the next flight out. But the penalty for changing her ticket is too great and so she resigns herself to staying the weekend.
By the time Carmel is on the plane home, she’s in love with Kalgoorlie.
Once home, she returns to her doctor who remarks on how much better she looks. “What are you doing?” he enquires. Carmel tells him: “I took your advice and bought a business. A brothel in Kal-goorlie.” “My God,” exclaims the stunned doc. “I meant charity work. You should do charity work.”
Kalgoorlie has changed since those days: wide landscaped roads, new buildings, a museum, not to mention a mining boom that has led to the expansion of the Super Pit, swallowing up half a dozen suburbs.
When Carmel arrived, the town was much shabbier, there were more brothels and Kalgoorlie still operated a containment policy. Containment began in 1907 and consisted of two rules. First, the girls had to remain on the premises between dusk and dawn. Second, they were barred from public gatherings. So, most girls lived here in transit. They came to earn money and then left town. If they wanted to return in another capacity, they had to stay away for three months.
Containment, which was officially lifted only seven years ago, was essentially devised to protect a husband from being sprung by a prostitute while out with his wife. If a girl broke the rules, she was sent home on the next train. She could return a week later, of course, but one more transgression and it was a one-way ticket out.
“Most girls told their families they were coming to Kalgoorlie to work as a barmaid. There was one bar in town, which got all the mail here for 18 girls for years.”
In Kalgoorlie’s heyday there were 20 men to one woman. In those days, brothels were needed as a safety valve, says Carmel. Now, there are many more women and the mayor talks about closing the brothels.
As if life wasn’t hard enough for an honest brothel owner, an influx of Asian women working from home has eaten into the business. Plus, the payment ratio for the women has risen. The 50/50 split has gone to 60/40 in favour of the prostitutes.
I suspect the downturn coincides with the advent of the tours, some three years, and Questa Casa may not continue as a thriving business for Carmel’s daughter, who also works here now.
The other distinctive feature of Questa Casa are the starting stalls. The women look out on the street from what look like horses’ stalls. It’s where she can bargain with her client and inspect him before unlocking the door behind her and -letting him into her parlour. Prices start at $110 for 15 minutes and go up to $210 for an hour.
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