I must admit, I am a closeted guy. I haven’t confirmed it yet to anyone even to my family and best friends. But you know what’s weird? I do not like being tagged as one. I just can’t explain why. Or maybe, I just don’t want to know why.

Before reaching 20, I do not really know where my line was. Honestly speaking. But as time passes by and as I get older, I’m able to sway away those clouds blocking my way.

I have to tell you the truth. I do not see myself outing to everyone. There are a lot of people who look up to me. The catch in here is that they are younger than me. Grade schoolers then looked up to me as their Kuya. Even those in high school who were batch/es junior than me. These are the people who really admired me during my high school years and I guess until now. Left and right, girls had crushes on me. Why I say so? They said that I am a total package: a man with looks, intelligence, and character. All rolled into one. How I wish I really am that man they have in their minds. As well, my relatives here and abroad, Im pretty sure that they do not know the other side of me. And if in case I out myself to them, my world and theirs too will surely shake off. And I don’t want that to happen. They will surely get disappointed.

You know what, I feel unfortunate that I live in our society. A society who looks at homosexuals as inferior beings. For me, I believe that being homosexual is born, it is not influenced or acquired. For those late bloomers, like me, we were just not able to discover it immediately. It is just there. It is just waiting for us, for us to recognize it.

I want those heterosexuals who are against homosexuals to realize that it is not easy being one. There were times that I incredibly envy those straight guys. I want to experience how it feels to stare and find satisfaction on those women’s flawless and white legs. I want to know how it is like to fantasize a sexy body of a sexy star printed on a magazine. I want to experience how it will be to talk over the boobs and the butts of those and these girls. I also want to know the feeling or the excitement every time a guy gets the chance to peep at those cleavages. The feeling of playing a basketball game in a school or barangay league. You know the basic boy things. And I really want to feel how it is really to be a real gentleman. There were even times I wish that I am a straight guy so that I will not experience an indirect discrimination from our society, to be in the minority. I want these to happen to belong.

It makes me even sadder when people praise this and that gay because he became the richest stylist, the best businessman, the most intelligent student and etcetera and etcetera. It made me think actually. Do homosexuals really need to be an achiever first so that they can feel accepted or be allowed to step at the arena of societal acceptance? Or, can that be I AM HOMOSEXUAL. PERIOD. ?

Why do homosexuals need to experience these biased things? When will everyone achieve the capacity of real understanding? Of broad-mindedness? Because I firmly believe that homosexuals should be treated the heterosexual way (don’t raise your eyebrow, it itches me too because the society has the default standard-heterosexuality).

In my situation, I must say it is really hard. I hope it is easy as 1, 2, 3 and A, B, C. I finally decided to write a letter to you because I want every one who visits this site that it feels like dying every time you hide in your closet. I feel like I am a liar to myself. It is like I am good at backstabbing my trueness you know. And yet, I foresee that once I let my trueness be seen by others, it will be a suicide. Instead of getting better, it might become a sharp dagger. I know there will be people who will tell me to out myself as soon as possible but I really do not see it coming, me outing myself to the world. I’m sorry. I am happy this way, or, perhaps, I should be happy the way it is. Oh my gawd, I hate this. This society that always finds flaws to others yet in the first place that society is flawful. I hope one day I will wake up where heterosexuality is the new homosexuality. Let’s see how it will be. How they will struggle to fight for their rights and to protect their pride. Maybe, one day. One day.

- Randall

Dear Randall,

At 20 years old, you are a bright young chap. Reading your letter, I know, I am quite sure, that you have answers to your own questions. Obviously, you have a sharp mind, and I must say you’re quite articulate in words. No wonder people regard you very highly, as you yourself said in your letter, “There are a lot of people who look up to me.” They admire you a lot. They respect you a lot. I wonder though, are you aware that there is this one very important person, more than anyone else, who should be admiring you, respecting you? That person is yourself. All these external achievements — what do they mean, if you yourself don’t learn to love the real person who’s responsible for them? How come people love you, yet you seem not to be able to give yourself that same love?

Embrace who you are, Randall. He’s been quite lonely — only because you’ve somehow distanced yourself from him. See wonders as you try to get more acquainted with your real self. And as you wish for society to accept us homosexuals wholeheartedly, I too fervently wish that you find the strength and that unique love to accept who you are, what you are, wholeheartedly.

Be well, my dear Randall. World Peace!

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happy easter!! i read in some comment here that you’re in quezon province (or wherever you are). just want to say na… inggit ako. am stuck here in manila working.. on this long holiday. dang! amf (amfotah)! o.m.g.! s.n.m.! lol.

i spent an entire good friday listening to all these podcasts while i was slumped in front of my canvas painting (i tried to paint without interruption but there were moments i’d be laughing my head off aside from the ones where i’d have to stop to listen to some quotable quote). it is interesting to note that as you progressed with your podcasts, there is more levity while you and the other fabcasters discussed relevant and quite interesting topics that are universal to all plu’s.

what piqued my interest in these ten podcasts though was the one with the most number of listeners, that of your “interview” with dencio. his short talk about cruising spots hits the bulls’ eye amongst many gay men. i read through the comments and tony said it aptly, “Most gay men cruise”. sift through all the moral posturings in the comments and one reality comes out – most gay men really do cruise. it is a right of passage for many who are trying to discover what makes them “different” in the eyes of the moral majority.

i remember when i was a young lad in my teen years when there was yet no internet and trying to discover what it was to be gay, we had the dark cinemas of recto and quiapo like pearl and ginto, ali mall, sandra’s along recto, joy, blue cafe, cocobanana (i was 13 years old when i actually got dragged to it by a disco-hopping older cousin and i got to dance with the american-indian of the Village People), ugarte field (which was manila’s response to central park, new york), the bakahan at the ccp grounds, adam’s apple, cloud nine, quezon circle, maharlika(?) in caloocan, blue palm etc…

it brought back some memories of people i met through these brief encounters, the crazy moments that would either make me laugh or sad when i remember them. i remember the time when i met a then fledgling provincial politician in one of these dalliances. we discovered each other in a biblical sense and years later he’ll be on tv sitting as a young member of an institution beside the highest office of our country. i have shared secrets with some people who in their public lives can never reveal that they have or are still indulging in such activities – priests, executives, lawyers, fathers, professors, actors. but one person still stood out amongst these brief “encounters”. he was, like dencio, a young man full of the ways of the world named eric.

i met eric in the u-belt area one hot late afternoon, in a grimy double-feature cinema. i was 21 back then. i saw him slumped in the dark, “servicing” a faceless man. he looked up and smiled. after he was through with his companion, he stood up and sat beside me. he introduced himself, in the dark, as if he’s doing it in a party. we fell into conversation while several other faceless men would, one after the other, sit beside him. i found out that he’s a male prostitute selling his “services” inside that cinema and these faceless men are his ‘customers’. we talked further until he had to excuse himself to do his ‘job’. i stood up to leave, but he grabbed my hand and asked me to wait for him outside. i obliged.

we met outside after a few minutes and in the fading light of the day i saw that he was a young man like me and he was in his school uniform – white shirt and green pants. we went to sandra’s. we talked. shared a couple of bottles of coke and i listened to his story. Animatedly, he talked about himself. i found out that he had a pattern of sexual abuse when he was a child. i vividly remember his story of being repeatedly molested by his uncle and older cousins – a pattern which began when he was 9. he narrated how at 15 he learned how ‘to turn tricks’ with men (prostitute) so he could buy his first nike. he also told me of how he avoided spending a night in jail after a police raid by providing service to the arresting officer. there were other stories he regaled me with through the years that he was exploring and in one statement he summed up himself, “I am a sex addict.” That statement of his drilled into my brain.

we kept on talking until late at night and parted ways. we exchanged numbers and in the next few weeks, we talked for hours on the phone. We talked about everything. We talked of his family, my family; the people he knew and the people I know; we talked of everything we can think of. I even remember him telling about his family tree! until one day, he stopped calling. i called back at his number and a lady answered saying that he’s already left.

a few years passed and every now and then i would remember bits of our long conversations on the phone and i would wonder how and what eric was doing. in that brief moment i met him, i knew he became a friend.

sometime in 1995, i was volunteering for the world youth day for the pope’s arrival in our country. i have met some doctor volunteers and become good friends with them. one of them was doing his residency in a government hospital. we were in a prayer group and i would fetch him (back when i used to drive) so we can go together to the once-a-week meetings.

one night, he asked me to come up while he was finishing a round in one of the wards. i went up and saw him at the end of a long hallway talking to a nurse. i walked slowly and was reading the names tacked on the doors of the wards. as i passed by an open door of one ward with a lone strip of paper on it with one name, I stopped dead in my tracks. Written there was a familiar name. The door was slightly open and I quietly peeked in. Propped up on the bed was the familiar face of my long lost friend – Eric. I said hello. He turned his face and I saw the same familiar smile flash across it. “Kamusta ka na? Nandito ka pala tsong?” was what I greeted his smile with.

I remember he didn’t answer, he just sat there on the bed smiling at me and there was an awkward silence. I told him that I was there to pick up a friend. He just nodded. i looked out and saw my friend still talking to the nurse. I hastily told Eric that I will come back again and visit him.

On the drive towards the prayer meeting I asked my companion what ward it was that Eric was in. What he told me sent a cold shiver up my body. It was the new ward for Aids patients. He was the lone occupant that night.

For several days I grappled with the thought that I know someone with that disease. I fought within me whether to see him again or not. Perhaps it’s my own prejudices or it was my own fear of facing someone who has that sword hanging upon him. At 25, I had to face someone with aids.

I delayed for a few days from going to the hospital and arranging to visit him. Almost a week passed when I decided to call and asked for him. He has already moved out the day before I called. I never had the chance to see him again.

After hearing Dencio talk, it reminded me of Eric’s bravado with the ways of the world, how the latter nonchalantly talked of his adventures, his abused past and the admonition of his own addiction. I wonder if Eric is still out there or if he has become a number in a long and growing list of statistics. Wherever he is, I only wish my friend Godspeed. And only if I can talk to him again, perhaps this time, I can ask him… why.

to Dencio, whoever you are, thank you too for putting your worldly insights into something that the moral majority will always and consistently deny. God speed.

- Palma

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Grabe, nakakatuwa talaga ang mundo. Kanina I was just browsing Facebook. Dahil feature ng Facebook yung nagsa-suggest ng “People You May Know” I saw the profile of this guy, let’s call him Allen. What made me smile was that his profile pic was a very sweet image of him and his girlfriend. Let me repeat that. GIRLfriend. Babae ang karelasyon nito. Babae. Girlalu, obaryo, fallopian tube, bilat, vagina monologue. I whispered to myself, “ahhh… babae na pala talaga ang gusto niya ngayon.” Napangiti talaga ako, kasi naman, may history ito. Officemate ko kasi dati yang si Allen. Ang nakakatuwa nito, kilala ko na siya bago ko pa man siya naging officemate. At alam ko na ang likaw ng bituka niya.

Schoolmate niya ang jowa ko noon (na tatawagin nating Jowa sa salaysay na ito). Sa UP Diliman sila pareho nag-aral. Sa isang subject na nag-require sa kanila na magsulat ng isang position paper, kinailangan nilang maghanap ng ka-partner. Sa madaling salita, si Jowa at si Allen ang naging magka-partner.

Si Jowa at si Allen ay parehong lalakeng-lalake. Sa pagkilos, pananamit, at pagsasalita. Kaya walang problema. Pero si Jowa, may kakaibang talento sa pang-amoy. Anlakas ng radar niya, ng tinatawag na gaydar. Walang senyales pero pakiramdam niya noon, may kakaibang hilig si Allen. Hindi lang talaga niya ma-confirm. Pero tulad ng inaasahan, nauwi ang project na ito sa mga overnight-overnightan. Doon niya nakilala ng husto si Allen, pati na ang misteryo sa likod ng macho guwapitong imahe nito. Mahilig din pala siya sa mga guwapo.

Sa mga overnight-overnightan nila nangyari ang mga dapat mangyari. Kaya’t ayon kay Jowa, tunay na kabaro ang kanyang kaklaseng si Allen. Nagpatuloy ang kanilang sexcapades, even after matapos i-submit ang position paper. Natigil lang ito ng mabalitaan ni Jowa na nagka-girlfriend si Allen. At ito ay si Cheryl, ang babaeng bestfriend ni Jowa. Walang problema yun kay Jowa. Inintindi na lamang niya na baka dala lang ng bugso ng pagnanasa ang mga namagitan sa kanila ni Allen. Hindi sinabi ni Jowa kay Cheryl ang nakaraan nila ni Allen. Pero pagkatapos lamang ng ilang buwan, nag-break din sina Allen at Cheryl. Nagpatuloy naman ang friendship ni Jowa at Allen — although hindi naikuwento ni Jowa kung nagpatuloy rin ang kanilang nocturnal activities.

Matapos ang ilang taon, pare-pareho nang nag-graduate sina Jowa, Cheryl, at Allen. Noon ko nakilala si Jowa, at naging kami na nga. Isang gabi, habang magkasama kami ni Jowa, narinig kong may kausap siya sa cellphone. Si Allen. Pinakausap sa akin ni Jowa si Allen, basta lang daw, para lang daw makausap ko ang dating boyfriend ng bestfriend niyang si Cheryl. Go, sabi ko. “Hi, Allen,” pambungad na bati ko sa kanya, “kamusta?”

Sa kabilang linya, sumagot si Allen: “Migs… ok naman. Ganda ng boses mo ah. Guwapo ka ba?”

Natawa na lang ako. Hindi ko na matandaan kung ano pa ang napag-usapan namin sa maigsing phonecall na iyon. Basta ang di ko malimutan eh ang interes ni Allen na malaman kung guwapo nga ba ang kausap niya.

Nang maging mag-officemate kami, noon ko lamang nasilayan ang itsura ni Allen. Mestisuhin. Di katangkaran, pero may dating. Bad boy look. Pero makinis, in fairness. Delicious looking, kumbaga. Pero siyempre dahil self-imposed rule ko nga ang “No Office Romance” keber ang beauty niya sa akin. Hanggang tango at ngiti lang kami. Ni hindi ko alam kung alam niya na ako yung nakausap niya sa telepono.

Nag-resign si Allen matapos ang ilang taon, habang ako ay nanatili sa kumpanya. Ngayong gabi, nakita ko ulit ang Allen, sa Facebook, at iyun nga, sweet na sweet na naman pala sa isang mujer, sa isang tunay na mujer.

May nabasa ako sa kungsaan, sinasabing ang sekswalidad daw, specifically ang sexual preference ay fluid. Maaring sa ilang tao, masasabi nilang sila ay siguradong-siguradong lalake, o siguradong-siguradong bading, ngunit may pagkakataon din namang may mga taong mas fluid ang preference. Sa pananaw ko, nabibilang si Allen sa kategoryang ito. Fluid Sexuality. Maaaring papalit-palit, palipat-lipat.

Nakaka-intriga, di ba? Siyempre naisip ko rin, “nage-enjoy din kaya talaga siya sa babae? O cover girl lang si girl, as in panakip-butas?” I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, kasi mukhang in love naman talaga sila ni mujer. Talaga sigurong fluid lang ang sexuality niya. Talaga lang sigurong maari siyang papalit-palit ng gusto, palipat-lipat ng kampo.

Ikaw, giliw na mambabasa ko… may kilala ka rin bang tulad ni Allen? Sa tingin mo ba’y pupuwede ngang FLUID ang sexuality? Maaari nga bang minsa’y gusto ng isa ay lalake, at pagkaminsa’y babae naman? Ano sa tingin mo?

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What would you do?

A. In a moment of privacy (when it’s just you and him), you will gently open up your mind’s curiosity and ask him pointblank, “Bro, are you gay?”
B. Open up to him, “Bro, I’m gay” in the hopes that he will be inspired to open up to you as well.
C. Without him knowing, test him [insert a creative gay litmus test here].
D. Do something else [insert your idea here].
E. None of the above, which means, do nothing, it’s none of your business.

Feel free to share your thoughts! Comments, comments please! Go!

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VATICAN CITY (AFP) – - A suggestion by Pope Benedict XVI that homosexuality is as much of a threat to the survival of the human race as climate change sparked outrage among gay rights campaigners on Tuesday. [Source / Photo by Yahoo]

There is no direct quote from Pope Benedict XVI that is clearly homophobic, so I do not think we should take it as a real attack. Knowing the Catholic doctrine though, I am not really surprised that the Pope disapproves of the assumed typical homosexual lifestyle. It’s Christmas, and today more than ever, I pray that the pope is blessed with the grace of universal love. And I pray for us all for the same thing. May we all learn to love everyone regardless of age, gender, and race. Being anti-anything is so yesterday. Love, love, love. And gratitude. World Peace!

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If the coming out process is difficult for gay people, it is often equally difficult for their parents. Confusion, anger, and fear frequently cause fathers and mothers of gay men and lesbians to disavow, strike out against, and even resent their children. For many parents, a child’s coming out feels like the ultimate rejection–not only of their dreams and hopes but of their own heterosexuality. In Now That You Know: A Parent’s Guide to Understanding Their Gay and Lesbian Children, Betty Fairchild and Nancy Hayward–the mothers of, respectively, a gay man and a lesbian–have charted the rough seas that almost every parent of a gay person travels.

Fairchild and Hayward presume that homosexuality is a positive good, and that it is willful ignorance and homophobia that are moral wrongs. They also believe that families can and should love all members and that it is distraught or confused parents (not their gay offspring) who must change. Mixing common sense with a firm sense of social justice and love, the authors systematically address almost all of the problems faced by parents of gay people. Answering questions on religion, AIDS, health, children, alternative families, and sex, they make the complicated gay world–often a nightmare vision for “just out” parents of gays–not only manageable but happy and nurturing. –Michael Bronski (Amazon.com Review)

Video after the jump.

It’s the 80s, Reagan is in power and Ed is gay. While his parents are cool with his lifestyle, Ed’s Jewish grandmother is horrified by the news. They’ve always been close, so in response to her trauma, Ed decides it’s time to educate Grandma.

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“Hey, just wanted to ask, are you gay, bisexual or something?” then I replied, “that� I’m not particularly sure of� I have a gf, but to be honest, I enjoy ‘it’ with men. No labels. Ikaw?” � then I got cold silence as a reply.

It was the 30th day of my birthday month, though still in the middle of the week, the following day was the end of Ramadan and thus was declared a holiday. I got nothing to do that payday afternoon and so I decided to just hang around. Walking along Timog / Tomas Morato area with no one and with literally nothing to do, I decided to go to one of my favorite spa places and pamper myself with an hour and a half long massage.

So I went inside, had a short talk with the receptionist. I asked her if there were not too many people inside, and was delighted to hear her say “di naman matao sir, tama lang.” at least I’m not alone, and neither is it too crowded�

Well I went in, and saw a bunch of decent looking blokes (Though it pissed me that a number of them are drooling over those who just came in, and even went to as far as following you to the shower. But nevertheless it was an okay crowd.)

Just as any ordinary spa guy would do, I took off my clothes placed the towel around my waist and went straight to the shower area. There were a few gays staring but I couldn’t care less. Had a nice warm shower facing the wall / dividers; I was indeed having a nice time. After that, I went in the dry sauna area. After a few minutes I decided to give the massage a “go”. None of my favorite masseurs were available at the time, but then the newbie (at least for me) didn’t fail me. He has a good warm pair of hands, and it was a definite relief from all the stress I had from work this past week.

After the massage, I decided to take a shower again to wash off the oil. After that, I was planning to leave the place for coffee, but then, when I checked my phone, it was then too early. So I stayed� went back to the shower area, then to the sauna room. On my way to the sauna, I saw a few guys on the Jacuzzi but did not pay much attention. I went inside and alienated myself from the rest of the group by wearing a silly slightly frowning face. It was as if I had a “F*** OFF” sign tattooed in my forehead. Nobody dared talk to me, and so I was relieved.

Fifteen to thirty minutes have passed and so I decided to shower off the sweat� This is when I saw “him” in the Jacuzzi. It was a familiar face, and so I thought. But then the “straight guy” ruled over me and didn’t give a damn. I went straight to the shower area, and, well… showered.

But after a while, this occurred to me, “he was the same guy from two Saturdays ago�” I had a silly sort of “attraction” with this almost bald guy, a slight scar on his cheek, with a decent built. And it was my second time seeing him in the same spa. Little did I care about the other guys, I just wanted to know for sure if he was that same guy I once saw and was attracted to� So I went in the tub with him and seated at the far end of the corner. I was trying to glance at him every once in a while to validate if it was really him, so by then, I was sure he was. I’m sure he was also glancing back, but then we wouldn’t let each other catch that we were…

And so it went on, we were taking a quick look at each other if chance permits. I went in the sauna, after a while he was there too. When I shower, he’s there at times� but nothing really happened besides that.

After a few while, I noticed that the crowd was getting a bit thick, and so I decided to leave. I went out of the wet area to change clothes. He followed� sat at one corner of the waiting lounge, got his phone as if sending a text message. It’s as if he was saying “hey, can I get your number?” I didn’t know what to do… none of this sort has happened to me yet. And so I did not change at once� and lingered for quite a bit. Teasingly, I put on only my boxer briefs with a towel almost wrapped around my shoulder, went in front of the mirror and put gel on my hair. I thought… “hey, I’m sending all the right signals, when will you make a move?” after quite a while, there were already number of guys staring at me, so I felt a bit conscious… so I went on putting on my pants and shirt and prepared to leave. I was in front of my locker (it was 222) when he sat beside me. I thought he was finally making a move, but then again, I assumed too much. He was there because his locker was just right next to me, his was 223.

I didn’t know what got into me, but I could have sworn, I wanted so much to get his number, but then I can’t just simply ask. He was still there lingering, and so am I, as if we were waiting for each other to step forward. So I did� I took a piece of paper, wrote down my first name and my number, and thought that it would be simpler if I just handed it to him. But then, I can’t. So I took my chances, and just left the paper inside my locker beside his. But I made sure that he knew that I left something there.

I went on my way hoping he would indeed get in touch. There was a coffee shop at the same building, I stayed there and met up with my boss, she also is a good friend of mine� and she had something bothering her that night� so we decided to talk it over a cup of coffee. While we were chatting, I received a text message “****?” � (my first name, sorry, I refuse to divulge that info) it was from an unfamiliar number. So I replied: “yes? I’m sorry but may I know who this is?” he replied “Why did you leave early?” I texted back “are you 223? I met up with a friend down here at GJ�” To cut it short, the conversation went on� it was brief and concise� “parang nagpapakiramdaman�” so to say. I learned from that short exchange that he is a senior student from one of the top university, and I’m 1 or 2 years older� just the same, he knew that I was a marketing guy at some establishment near the place� It was somewhat a relief that he made contact.

An hour have probably passed, my boss and I were at the height of her story� when I noticed “him” walking out of the building� he saw me too� it was a cold stare that we gave each other. He walked towards my direction, passed by our side, and went down the stairs behind me. After a while, I texted him again, “ei, you on your way home?” “yep, am a bit sleepy already� why?” he replied. I said. “wala, just thought you might want to hang out still, but then, sige, go ahead sleepyhead!” and the conversation went on again until the time I got home and was about to sleep� well, we talked about basic things, like my girlfriend, my job, his school, his likes� sort of stuff like that. But believe you me, it was a very few exchange of text messages� and I mean literally few. When it got a bit intimate, he asked “Hey, just wanted to ask, are you gay, bisexual or something, you know?” then I replied, “that� I’m not particularly sure of� I have a gf, but to be honest, I enjoy ‘it’ with men. No labels. Ikaw?” � then I got cold silence as a reply.

That was the last text I got from him. That night, and the following day� nothing.

I don’t know if I scared him away� or had I been too straight forward, or too intrusive. I really don’t know. So I had to let it pass� so much for my first actual attempt to get to know a complete stranger, with him knowing what I actually am.

Dear Migs,

Sorry for having to tell you this long of a story� just wanted to tell you exactly what happened� in detail. You probably are the only person who might actually understand and be able to give me a straight forward comment. Tell me pls., what happened there? Am I just being extra sensitive about the whole thing? Should I act on it?

This, I’m sure of; I didn’t do that just so to hook up or anything. It was an authentic effort to make friends with someone interesting. After all, he might be the only person who actually knows who I am, and knows about the whole “no labels” thing. Is that wrong?

I know you and your readers are way too tired of these kinds of stories, so if you won’t publish it or something, it would absolutely be fine. Just hoping you’ll give me sound advices on what to do. You may send it through this e-mail if you opt to J thanks so much migs. You’ve always been a big help.

– kape (a.k.a. Coffee Boy)

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Synopsis: Joaquin (Polo Ravales), an unassuming fisherman, is forced to confront his homosexuality when his sex-starved wife Cynthia (Althea Vega) returns from her overseas job eager to get pregnant. His young and impulsive lover, Waldo (Joseph Bitangcol), flees to Manila in disgust. After a month of hesitation, Joaquin leaves his wife to follow Waldo. His search takes him on a seamy yet colorful trip through Manila’s gay underbelly. He discovers Waldo’s dangerous flirtation with Rufo (Emilio Garcia), a bisexual rogue cop who holds the clue to Waldo’s disappearance. Rufo lures Joaquin into his home and introduces him to his submissive wife, Beng (Jean Garcia). A sadist who beats up Beng regularly, Rufo turns Joaquin into a prisoner and sex slave — like he did to Waldo. When Joaquin is finally reunited with Waldo, he discovers that Rufo is about to sell them like fish to an international sex trafficking ring, along with his personal harem of male and female captives. With Beng’s help, the two lovers plot their escape.

Director: Joel Lamangan
Screenplay: Eric Ramos
Producer: Manny Valera (DMV Entertainment Inc.)

Cast:
Polo Ravales
Joseph Bitangcol
Jean Garcia
Emilio Garcia

Introducing
Althea Vega
Marco Morales

Director’s Cut will be screened at the UP Cine Adarna on Nov. 6 — check out the Events Calendar.

Trailer here:

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Val Mante is one truly revolutionary gay man — and this post was written in honor of him. More than 3 years ago, he was at the frontpage of the Inquirer, as one-half of the first married gay couple of the CPP-NPA. Read on.

Reds officiate first gay marriage in NPA

By Rolando B. Pinsoy
Inquirer News Service
Philippine Daily Inquirer, Feb, 7, 2005

DARE to struggle, dare to win … as married gays. After raiding a few Army camps, two communist guerrillas hid in a forest gorge and fell in love.

Deeply.

That was three years ago. On Friday, under a romantic drizzle in a muddy clearing in Compostela Valley province in Mindanao, Ka Andres and Ka Jose exchanged vows in a heavily guarded ceremony before local villagers, friends from the city and their comrades in arms.

They are considered the first homosexual couple in the New People’s Army (NPA) who were wed by the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP).

During the “wedding,” sponsors draped a sequined CPP flag around the couple’s shoulders. The flag was held in place by a long, beaded cord which also went around the couple and the sponsors — symbolizing that their marriage would be made stronger with the help of comrades and the masses.

Andres held a bullet, as did Jose and each other’s hands. The bullets represented their “commitment in the armed struggle.”

Throughout the ceremony, a choir serenaded them with revolutionary love songs. After they signed their “wedding contract,” the newlyweds kissed amid the usual applause.

Jose recalled the day he first visited the NPA camp for his revolutionary integration — a practice resorted to by city-based revolutionary activists before their deployment in the countryside.

This was the first time he met Andres, who was preparing audio-visual materials for a basic revolutionary education seminar.

Jose was young and had a sexist, macho attitude and thought Andres was a typical tiguwang bayot (old gay), an object of scorn and ridicule.

Andres, an education instructor in the movement, was busy with his work and did not take too much notice of Jose.

Besides, Andres already had a boyfriend. Later, the two started to discuss politics.

“I began to understand the revolution and why gays are discriminated by society,” Jose said in an interview.

Started as friends

When Jose’s integration program ended, he decided to join the NPA. It was Andres who accompanied him to the armed unit — his first assignment.

They met several times during education training. At the start, it was purely a comradely interaction. Later, it became romantic.

“I realized he was caring and malambing (affectionate). He would never leave me in times of difficulty,” Jose said.

Andres recalled when they both got separated from their comrades on their way to get supplies. It was raining and Andres spent the night alone in the forest without provisions. The following day, he ran into
Jose, who had also spent the night in the woods, looking for him.

‘Sweetheart’

Jose once confided to Andres that sometimes, he would find himself attracted to female comrades.

“I don’t get jealous. Even if we are away from each other for months

because of the nature of our respective works. I trust him,” Andres said.

Neither is their age gap an issue. Jose is 21 while Andres is 54. They call each other “sweetheart.”

“Andres helps me overcome the challenges and to become strong politically and ideologically,” Jose said.

When the couple realized they were falling in love, they immediately sought the approval of their respective “collective” or cell unit.

It is the collective’s responsibility to foster a strong relationship within the group and members are assessed every four months.

First gay marriage

As the first same-sex marriage in the NPA, theirs is a union long awaited by comrades who support gay rights in the movement. It is also a manifestation of the communist movement’s recognition of the
right to engage in gay relations and to marry.

Although the CPP already recognized gay relations and same-sex marriage, it was not easy for Andres and Jose to make the decision to finally marry.

First, the couple worked hard to change the traditional mind-set of some comrades regarding gays and gay relationships. They attributed these biases to the prevailing “patriarchal” culture in Philippine society.

On gay relations

“[We] conducted painstaking discussions to make comrades understand gay relations and gay rights,” Andres said.

“Gay cadres adhere to the strong Party discipline. They enhance the prestige of gays in the movement. This has gained positive results through the years. Comrades (male and female) and even the masses
have learned to respect and recognize gays and their contribution to the revolution,” he said.

As early as 1995, the CPP’s Southern Mindanao Regional Party Committee started to discuss gay rights in the movement.

In 1998, a provision on gay relations and same-sex marriage was added to the CPP’s guiding policy on relations contained in a document titled “On the Proletarian Relationship of Sexes (OPRS).”

Under the OPRS, the communist movement is committed to guide and ensure there is no exploitation in any relationship-heterosexual or homosexual.

What about kids?

During the wedding ceremony, comrades asked Jose — in jest — if Andres could sexually satisfy him.

“If there is love, everything follows, including sexual satisfaction,” Jose confessed.

The couple was also asked if they planned to have kids.

The newlyweds said they would deal with the issue later.

From my blogger-friend Mandaya Moore-Orlis, as posted in RBP:

Siya si Val Mante, dating secretary general ng Bagong Alyansang Makabayan.

Bakla. Lagi ko syang nakikita sa mga “theater tours” namin noon.

Noong mga huling taon ng 1990s, bigla syang naglaho sa city. Umakyat pala ng bundok. Sumapi sa New People’s Army.

Minsan, nagte-text sya sa akin, naglalambing ng kung ano-ano. Humingi ng three-in-one coffee. Minsan naman, whitening lotion. Noong huli, humingi ng payong. Binalak kong magpadala ng payong na may “Hello Kitty” design. Di ko nagawa.

Isang kaibigan din ang nagdadala ng printouts ng old “Mandaya Moore” posts ko. Pinapasa-pasa ito ng mga bading sa kilusan (kaya nga sila lang ang pag-asa ko para makakuha ng kopya ng old posts ko).

Si Val ay tunay na rebolusyonaryo. Naghasik sya ng sariling rebolusyon sa loob ng rebolusyonaryong kilusan. Ipinangalandakan ang kanyang kabaklaan.

Si Val at ang kanyang partner ang mga salarin sa unang gay marriage sa Communist Party of the Philippines. Sila yung na-front page sa Inquirer.

Noong September 22, namatay si Val. Hindi sa bala. Hindi sa labanan. Tinamaan sya ng sakit na leptospirosis. Bumigay ang kanyang kidney.

Patay na si Val.

Mabuhay si Val.

[Thanks Ate Mandaya for sharing.]

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I was listening intently to the workshop facilitator, he was intense and passionate yet almost oblivious to the power his words held. I knew he was about to say something important. And then it hit me, that question, “is there anything in your past that you have intellectually set aside — and yet, emotionally, you know it’s still there, bothering you, blocking you, preventing you from being your best self?” It hit me like electricity zapping into my chest. It zapped to life something I held dormant inside.

I know myself as someone who, if the situation called for it, can be very clinical about things, even with my personal experiences. Given, however, that chance to go back and fetch some unprocessed memories, and the threat that perhaps unconsciously, my blocks come from those I’ve arrogantly intellectually set aside — I was just so ready to admit that yes, there is this one simple emotional memory that is still there lurking, bumping, jiggling inside me. And now it is making its way to my consciousness — and I am just guessing — for a reason.

What is that emotional memory?

It was this: an aunt, chubby, with fair rosy white cheeks, but pimply, shiny and oily, her head crowned with brown curly locks, and her puckered lips unnaturally bloody red, exaggerated with cheap chappy lipstick, talking to my mother, saying, almost complaining, this fateful remark:

“Bakla ba yang batang yan? Bakit parang ang lamya yata?!”

Yes, my aunt was referring to me.

She was referring to me, at 6 or 7 years old. Yes, me.

… me, who from then on, started to resent her presence, and her voice, even if she was mouthing about something so different from that fateful remark.

… me, who started getting jitters when I knew I would be attending family gatherings because that meant being in the same place as her.

… me, who at that tender age, started to overcompensate, to unconsciously put myself on overdrive so that when they talk about me, they will say something else other than my being gay.

… me, who then eventually went to become the “family genius”.

… me, who is the only one in the clan that would be able to win 2 high school scholarships, and eventually go to the prestigious Philippine Science High School.

… me, who is the only one in the clan that would eventually go to the flagship campus of the country’s premiere State University.

… me, who is the only one in the clan that would eventually graduate with honors and more.

… me, who is the only one in the clan that would eventually be applauded by an international audience of Ph.D.’s, industry experts, and topnotch academicians when I presented my graduate thesis work, that eventually was published as a paper in a respected scientific journal.

… me, who is the one in the clan that would eventually be the family’s “poster boy” of success, everyone’s go-to-relative when their pockets run empty and the needs pressing.

… me, the boy who was still my aunt’s prisoner many years after hearing those fateful words.

It took just that powerful nudge, an invitation to look back and examine my blocks. It made me recognize the existence of that one emotional memory that made a prisoner out of me. While it fueled my drive to success, I realize that that happening now deserves to be put to rest. That from now on, I shall be operating on a much more aware and purposeful level. That success to compensate for my sexual preference should be no more; that my journey in this world should not be about hiding my homosexuality by the bigness of my success — rather, I should travel my journey simply to be the best I can be, to do the best I could, for my own growth, my self-actualization, and for sustaining my capacity to help, to give of myself, to be a relevant, significant, contributing, and functional member of the society I am in.

I wrote this post in the hopes of paying it forward. I am so edified with the process, and thought that maybe you too can learn a thing or two about yourself by asking that same question. “Is there anything in your past that you have intellectually set aside — and yet, emotionally, you know it’s still there, bothering you, blocking you, preventing you from being your best self?”

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