Revolution by stages - gays in Asia

I came to this article by way of Louie Crew's blog. It focuses on gays in Asia, and overall, I the picture is much better than in Africa. That said, I know of one Indonesian Chinese gay man who's sought asylum in the US on grounds of persecution, so it's not all good. And certainly, political organization is hard or impossible in some countries, like Singapore.

For some reason, the article focuses on gay men. Were they more willing to speak than Asian lesbians? What about bisexual people in Asia? Transgender in the form of cross-dressing is not alien to us (the article mentions Bugis Street in Singapore, an old "transvestite" haunt - that's the outdated term). And in fact, I've heard of Thailand having a number of clinics where one can get gender reassignment surgery. However, the article doesn't mention what life's like for trans people. Nonetheless, it's a nice snapshot.

http://www.pathfinder.com/asiaweek/98/0807/cs1.html

The blooms in the orchid pavilion next to Rizal Park were at their best - but were still no match for the guests. Ricky Reyes, charity fundraiser and gay businessman, had issued the invitation: P-A-R-T-Y! And Manila's homosexuals were doing just that - in sequins, boas and just every kind of cross-dressing finery imaginable. The bash - from 9 p.m. to 3 a.m. in a garden set up by former First Lady Amelita Ramos - was proof once more of the vibrancy of the Philippine homosexual community. Says publicist and outspoken gay personality Louie Cruz: "We are a beacon for gay freedom in Asia."
Hyperbole perhaps. Still, homosexual Filipinos participate in public life with a verve unmatched anywhere in the region. Party host Reyes, owner of a chain of beauty parlors, is almost a fixture in Amelita Ramos's social circle, partly because of his involvement in community projects. So is gay clothes designer Inno Sotto, who has helped Ramos raise millions through fashion extravaganzas. Manila's homosexuals are not just out of the closet. They are in the street, on TV and in the media. They hold flamboyant gay pride marches, and the Santo Niño Club, a largely homosexual association of fashion types, stages an annual religious parade featuring a statue of the child Jesus in designer robes.

But that's the Philippines. Just about everywhere else in Asia, the underlying truth about gay life is that there is safety only in numbers. From Tokyo to Jakarta, homosexuals mostly lead a Jekyll and Hyde existence. They may frequent bars and clubs where they know they will meet their own kind - but are reluctant to declare their sexual preference to work colleagues, friends or family. Persecution has been largely banished, but ostracism has not. The result: If it is true that one person in 10 is gay, then maybe 315 million Asians are trapped in a lie.

In Thailand, though, the social climate is relaxed enough for developer Dejdeow Srichai to have attempted in 1994 to set up a housing project exclusively for gay men. His Flower Town scheme, in northeastern Nakhon Ratchasima province, failed because it didn't attract enough takers. But he was recently considering something similar for Kanchanaburi, west of Bangkok. Homosexual hangouts have mushroomed in the Thai capital. The range runs from the gay equivalent of go-go bars (with male dancers) to saunas and more discreet establishments such as the Albury Club, which caters strictly to the moneyed class. Gay writer Natayada na Songkhla attributes this freedom to Thais' disinclination "to stick their noses into other people's business."

Even in politically conservative countries such as China and Malaysia, there is little overt anti-gay hostility. Homosexuals say they do not fear being picked on by roughnecks in the way they are in the West. Their explanation: the traditional tolerance found in many Asian cultures. "There is no confrontation, no fag-bashing. We can dance together even in straight discos," says a Malay actor who, as if to belie his own words, asked that his name not be used.

Hong Kong academic Chou Wah-shan suggests homophobia is a by-product of Western cultural expansion. Same-sex eroticism was prevalent throughout Chinese history, he says. This was mirrored in literature such as the classic novel Dream of the Red Chamber, which deals openly with homosexual love. Class and gender were more important than sexual identity in Chinese society, says Chou.

Still, a low level of violence is no indicator of social acceptance - as Julian Chan, a Hong Kong insurance underwriter, knows. Chan, 36, was a prominent member of a Buddhist organization until officials learned he was a gay activist. They told him to choose between them and his campaign work. He chose activism. "They were so hypocritical," he says. Not that the Christian Church is always more understanding. Says Chan: "When a friend of mine told his Church he was gay, they reacted as if he was possessed by Satan. They prayed for him day and night until he couldn't stand it any more and quit." Wan Yanhai, a medical researcher in Beijing, had a similar experience. He was forced to resign his job at a government health institution in 1994 because of his gay activism. Wan now works for a private company, but continues to spend his spare time on homosexual issues. Such cases, though perhaps isolated, are part of the force that keeps Asian homosexuals firmly in the closet.

Is the stigma associated with gayness imported from the West? After all, homosexual contact is outlawed in India, Malaysia and Singapore - all under prohibitions against "acts against nature" inherited from British rule. If so, Asia may have absorbed those values too well. In 1996, then Thai education minister Sukhavich Rangsitpol called for a "special center" for homosexuals, whom he described as "sick, both physically and mentally." In China, psychiatrists classify homosexuality as a disease for which electric shock therapy may be prescribed.

Oases of tolerance aside, what emerges from gay communities across Asia are tales of loneliness and insecurity. Yoshiko, a 45-year-old Japanese nurse, is typical of many. She believes discovery of her "secret" will mean being "shunned for the rest of my life" - even by her best friend. Her double life is taking a toll: she has been drinking heavily for the past 20 years.

In most countries, lesbians have been much less assertive than gay men, almost invisible. Anjana Suvarnananda, who runs Anjaree, a Thai lesbian support group, perhaps reflects a common attitude. She says: "We don't want to come out." There is no need, she says, "because you can do whatever you want" - only in secret. Like men, many homosexual women feel compelled by convention to marry. Those who then defy the rules and leave their husbands are often highly traumatized, says Jeya, an Indian lesbian.

Delhi computer engineer Owais Khan thought his attraction to boys was just a passing phase. When a visit to a prostitute left him cold, he managed to convince himself that "most men cannot engage in sex at first contact." But when his family arranged a marriage for him, he was forced to face his sexuality. The marriage lasted just seven months. "It was a painful experience for both of us, probably more for my wife," he says. Khan's wealthy Muslim family cut him off as soon as he told them he was gay. "Most of my relatives don't talk to me now," he says. "My mother says I will go to hell, as Islam forbids the practice."

In China, where the Communist Party has begun easing its control over private lives, young gays are finding it easier to be open about their sexual feelings - though most still fear being found out by their families. And those homosexuals scarred by the orthodoxy-driven persecution of the Cultural Revolution will probably take their secret to their graves. Even in Hong Kong, campaigners found few sympathizers when they attempted in the 1980s to promote a bill to decriminalize homosexuality. But they persisted, and in 1991 Hong Kong became the only place in Asia to legalize homosexual acts - in private - between consenting adults.

That legislation changed the nature of homosexual life in the territory. Where once there was just one gay club - the unglamorous and frequently raided Disco Disco - there are now gay-oriented bars, cafes, magazines and bookshops. Gay "lonely heart" announcements fill pages of a local English-language magazine. And one astute finance company has opened a department that specializes in homosexual clients.

Taiwan may have concertinaed a generation's political development into a fraction of that time, but social changes have come only slowly. "In most professions, [homosexuality] is the kiss of death," says Hsiao Yu, an activist at National Taiwan University. This is why Taipei gays and lesbians wore masks when they staged a demonstration June 29 to mark International Gay Pride day. Julian Jayaseelan, of the Malaysian AIDS-awareness group Pink Triangle, knows of several instances where employees were fired for being gay. A lawyer reports being told before being dismissed: "We're a very traditional company, with very traditional clients." In Singapore, stories abound - without proof - of senior government officials and prominent professionals whose careers have been derailed when their sexual orientation became known.

An individual's sexual tastes may be widely rumored - even tacitly accepted as in the case of two former premiers in Thailand - but artifice prevails. In polite company, the preferred term for a male homosexual is "confirmed bachelor." This saves face all round. But even coming out has its limits. Says Thai writer Natayada: "I cannot get married. I am not allowed to have children. I won't be considered for certain jobs. Where others may refer to their wives, I cannot talk about my long-term boyfriend."

Douglas Chew, 36, a leading Malaysian fashion designer, came out 15 years ago. "I decided I was an adult and it was my responsibility, my judgment," he says. "I don't think I owe the world an apology." Chew recently ended a three-year relationship. "We would go out to clubs and dance together. But holding hands is not something I'd do in public now - in my more militant days, maybe. My attitude is that I don't care whether I'm accepted or not. A lot of gays try too hard to conform and be accepted by 'normal' society."

Sometimes a relaxed official attitude can be found in what might appear to be the least expected places. Ben, a Chinese Singaporean waiter, says he was asked if he was gay while undergoing medical tests for national service in 1992. "When I said yes, they simply asked if I would be having a sex-change operation." Instead of being rejected, as he thinks would have happened a decade before, Ben was assigned a desk job. There was no hassle from the officers. "Some people made fun of me, but my squad stood by me."

Singapore - the heart of the Asian gay movement? It is not an image that springs easily to mind. But, government-mandated morality and Draconian laws aside, there is a thriving scene in the Lion City. A downtown shopping mall, conveniently attached to two major hotels, is one of the prime "cruising" spots, and it doesn't take a very practiced eye to figure out who's available.

Bugis Street, the raunchy old transvestite haunt, has been cleaned up for tourists, but other watering holes have opened to cater to a hip, gay clientele - either exclusively or on specific nights. One nightclub sets aside Wednesdays and Saturdays for men. Another caters to men most nights except Wednesday, when it is for women. The worldly Chew says he is astonished how aggressive Singaporean homosexuals are. "I have never been so accosted as in Singapore. Once, I was walking down Orchard Road. When I got back to my hotel room, I found a sticker on the back of my T-shirt. It read, 'If you are gay and want to know what I look like, call me.' Of course, I didn't!"

Traditionally, Asian gays have been poorly organized and easy targets for restrictive legislation. OCCUR, a Japanese group set up in 1986, was among the first to strike back. The 35,000-member body challenged a decision by the Tokyo Metropolitan government to deny homosexuals access to youth hostels. Last November, OCCUR claimed victory after six years of litigation. Says lawyer Nakagawa Shigenori: "What happened shows that the rights of minorities need to be addressed."

Ironically, the specter of AIDS, which added to the prejudice against homosexuals, helped spread gay consciousness in the region. When India's AIDS Bhedbhav Virodhi Andolan, a group promoting safe sex, sought to distribute condoms to male prisoners at Delhi's Tihar jail two years ago, the authorities refused permission. "Homosexuality is illegal, so how can it take place in prisons?" was the response. The activists are now seeking a change in the penal code.

Thai homosexuals are increasingly prepared to assert themselves as full members of the community, rather than as a tolerated fringe. In 1996, when the Rajabhat Institute banned gays from receiving teacher training in its 36 vocational colleges across the country, they launched a campaign that attracted the support of international pressure groups. Rajabhat was forced to back down.

Natee Teerarojjanapong operates Thailand's White Line AIDS-awareness group, where he has spent a decade trying to ease gays into the mainstream of society. His "safe sex" campaigns have helped both gays and straights. But his work has been tough going, particularly when dealing with resistance from the sex industry. He acknowledges that some of his earlier enthusiasm has waned.

Despite setbacks and disappointments, Asia's openly gay community has grown to the point where the "pink dollar" now has clout in the marketplace. Says Malaysia's Chew: "We have no wives or children to support. We travel a lot, dress well, go to the gym. We're usually more worldly than most people, more affluent."

Eddie Pacheco, an out-of-the-closet Manila advertising executive, agrees: "Most businessmen recognize the existence of the pink market. They know they can't afford to ignore gays. They cater to them, come out with products that appeal to them. They are important." And that, for the time being at least, is the real measure of gay power in Asia.

-- With reports by Julian Gearing/Bangkok, Paul Mooney/Beijing, Arjuna Ranawana/Delhi, Law Siu-lan/Hong Kong, Wilhelmina Paras/Manila, Santha Oorjitham/Kuala Lumpur, Andrea Hamilton/Singapore, Laurence Eyton/Taipei and Suvendrini Kakuchi/Tokyo