Whenever a man enters the realm of prostitutes he's always regarded as a possible customer. If you enter as a woman, you're regarded as somebody who could be in the same place. Being a man brings the perspective of flirtation.

On one hand, prostitutes don't struggle because it's simply their life. In Mexico and elsewhere, once they get out of these places [brothels] they have a pretty square life. In Bangladesh it's different because they live in the brothel, it's sort of a prison, but still there are two sides. When they think of their religion and their upbringing, they can be very moralistic. They're moralistic about giving blow jobs. On the other hand, they have an everyday life where there's no room for shame.

The most important thing is to find people that you enjoy - friends that you enjoy playing music with.

La Zona is such a closed area, a dangerous, outlaw area. My time in the Zona was a time outside of society, almost out of the real world. And the girls there had such a sense of irony and sarcasm. They were also really interested in my film. They'd be like, "Thank God we live in Mexico, because our kind of prostitution has a heart. We wouldn't want to sit behind a glass cage or be sold by our own mothers. We have free will."

I've made many documentaries, but prostitution was the hardest in terms of gaining the trust of the people being filmed.

A young man in Bangladesh can't even hold hands with a young woman. Without marriage there is no kissing, no holding hands, no going anywhere. So young boys can only go to the brothels for sex before marriage.

I think beauty is the splendor of truth, so if the people I portray think they're beautiful, they're beautiful. I don't make them that way.