Magazin:

Realities of the Internet
"Mozhe vodka" ["may I vodka"], a girl around 17 asks in broken Macedonian, perching herself on the edge of our table. Then she nods to her colleague at the bar. We are the only clients. Her name is Deya... by Yovo Nikolov (Capital, Bulgaria)
It is Sunday afternoon at the “Faraon” restaurant, a slightly more substantial wooden building than the rest of the 3,000 wooden kiosks that make up the Brcko District’s sprawling Arizona Market in northeast Bosnia. But just like the rest of them the Faraon has a parking lot for a toilet.
Like many of the people who indirectly gain from one of Arizona Market’s traditional businesses, Gordana, owner of the aptly named Koridor restaurant, does not see any victims at her tables when the prostitutes from Eastern Europe totter in the door on high heels.

It seemed like a good idea to a female colleague and me. No one on our all-Balkan seven person reporting team had ever been to a night bar. Yet, we were collaborating on a two-week investigation that included the sex trafficking business in northeastern BiH.

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