One more Week

Today, in one week, I turn Thirty. I can not grumble about it any longer, nore can I avoid it. So I have decided to look forward to it. Perhaps even do something with my hair. When I write again, I'll be 30.

To Say or Not To Say

(This blog is dedicated to two very special people: Rudi and *Mike* (No real names used to protect their online identities (you know who you are - You have added so much to my life, thank you! To Friendship for Always, wrinkles and all)

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This week, I was confronted by one of those labyrinth situations; You really only understand the difficulty of negotiating it, when you are inside it yourself.
My best friend, who happens to be of the homosexual persuasion, called me from the land of the Pom. He was telling me about a dilemma he frequently faces, when meeting new people. When is it the right time to tell someone you are gay? he wondered. The topic came up when he told me about a recent interview he had, for an educator (teacher here in Sandland) position at a very posh, uppity, Christian private school.
When he talked with the headmaster (principal in Sandland) he wondered whether he should tell the man that he was gay. He (my friend, lets call him Mike) feels that sometimes its best to get it out of the way right at the beginning, to avoid future awkwardness, confrontations and whispers in the hallway (or in the closet).
My immediate reaction was that he did not have to do this. That sexual orientation has absolutely nothing to do with his qualifications as a teacher and should not be considered part of any interview process. (And I stand by this sentiment)
I compared it to me telling a possible future boss that I'm really incapable of having normal relationships and that I'm always attracted to men with either one or all of the following problems: mother or father issues, psychological or health ticks such as ADD or a STD, God issues, drug issues, sexual issues and always, but always, communication issues.
Why would this be important to any potential boss? In my own experience, my life can be neatly divided into two parts: My disastrous relationships with men and the rest. The rest is where I draw on my capabilities as a worker, friend and family member. No one gets to see the "dark side" unless the have sex with me. (Do not say I did not warn you)
Returning from that weird tangent, the point I was trying to make to my dear friend Mike, is that it is nobody's business who he bangs at midnight. Not until such time as it becomes their business ..... for one or another reason.
For instance picture the scenario:

Drunk female teacher at office party: Wanna fuck?
Drunk Mike: Uhm, yeah. But not you? (Awkward, drunk smile)
Explanation to drunk and horny teacher follows.

His response to me was interesting, and of course, lest we forget, his response was based on his own personal experience. He is a gay man, who came out long after he left Namibia (you just don't come out in Namibia - it is simply not done along with dating someone of a different colour, letting men know you are more intelligent than them and dressing up in cool and funky outfits).
So, having admitted to himself, then me and then everyone else that he is indeed gay, in his early twenties, he's had about eight years of experience living as a gay man. First in Cape Town (pink city anyone?) and then in Britain and Germany - some of the most open-minded countries and cities of the world. And STILL, it is an issue. Which to me is surprising. Shocking and disgusting. WHY THE FUCK is it still an issue? Is it perhaps that he himself is still locked inside the head of the young boy who has to work very, very hard not to even think of himself and Mr Cute Teacher locked in an embrace in the school room in the very Namibian city of Windhoek? Is he himself still battling unseen, prejudice lodged, burnt inedibly into his mind while growing up in the land of the prejudiced? Will he ever be able to escape it entirely? And not give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of his sexual choice of partner?

Why did he wonder about declaring his sexual orientation to a headmaster at an interview?

Well, according to him, there are two kinds of gay. Fairy Gay and Manly Gay. He is a manly gay, in other words, he is not immediately identified as gay by the less keen gaydar spotters out there. Some women would (and do) develop a crush on him, before he in turn has to crush their hopes and let them know that he does not do girlfriends. Only boysfriends.

And that is the dilemma. Because of his outer lack of gayness (to the less astute human observer that is), the man is often asked, so are you married? Do you have a girlfriend? And this causes the moment Mike dreads. This is the moment he has to come up with a witty (non-witty does not do in these situations) retort, while at the same time making the questioner feel okay about not having spotted his gayness (EVERY damn heterosexual on planet Earth is convinced that they can spot Gay 100 miles away with a pink blindfold tied across their eyes).

And Mike is tired of having to tell them this. Mike is tired of always having to be on guard when they invite him for a drink for the first time, or spot him out and about with his latest conquest. How will they react? Will the parents complain? Will anyone whisper? Will they look at him differently? And most of all, will they still like him?

I'm still not convinced that Mike has entirely unshackled the imprinted fears and prejudices from his homeland, to be able to face these situations without the slightest hint of care in the world. Perhaps he never will be able to do that.
Although, in time, I think it will become less and less of an issue – that is, in any case, what I wish for him.

I don't think anybody minds to be told that their new, funky, funny, intelligent and insightful colleague is gay. In fact, I'm sure that most teachers (of the female persuasion) will burst with happiness, in the know that there is one less macho, testosterone, debilitating male around, and instead, there is a new possible friendship filled with lots of Martini's and man bashing chats on the horizon. (No, I don’t hate men, but see above for personal relationship problems).

And on that note: While Namibia is still far removed from the kind of liberal society most conservatists will shoot their brains out for (Let them)... the Gay Man has, as only he can, for the past few years, made a sly, almost unnoticeable inversion into the brick minds manifest in this country. Yes, they should probably still not live here, and will be better off to come shake their feathers here just now and then, so that the drab, grey mouse men living here can glory, but for a moment, at the sight of a man not afraid to conquer.

And as Michael Stipe of R.E.M proudly announced his GAYNESS to the world, a while back and re-confirming it recently, what the hell? If you wanna say that you are gay, why not? Only good things can come of it.

This, I can say from my own personal experiences.

Mike, Rudi, Michael Stipe and all the other MANLY and FAIRY Gays out there - I salute you all! You have all certainly added value to my life.

Facebook Exile: The Party is Over

I'm experiencing a genuine 21st century existential crisis. I've been banished from Facebook and Celebitchy!

For some reason, this Monday morning (then again, it is Monday morning, does there need to be a reason?), as I prepared to oggle my 'friends' new photographs and posts, and read about their monday morning feelings, conquer fellow Zombies, Vampires and Slayers, SUDDENLY: Explorer and Firefox brutally denied me entry.

Some 'router problem' a computer whizz friend told me, somewhat calming down my palpitating heart, as I immediately suspected that my cruel monster bosses had blocked, BLOCKED, my access to these sites.

So, what does any self-respecting, modern woman do when she can not attain entry to Facebook or Celebitchy, for her daily dose of pervness on friends and celebs?

Nothing. I'm telling you my friends, there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING that can be done. Except to try again, and again, and again.

A friend tried to explain this to me via Gmail, which is still functioning (bless the polyatheist gmail Gods out there, who are on duty, unlike their Facebook God counterparts, who obviously overslept today.)

Basically I was told, that I have been excluded from the hottest party in town: Why don't ya just punch me in the face and pour sticky honey over me! Huh? Huh?

(an excerpt from our conversation:)

Jana: so i'm not invited to the party today?
Clever Friend: the bridge to the party is out

Well there you have it. Unfair, unfair. Sigh. Sob. Sigh. This is a terrible unjustice.

So basically, I'm back in Kindergarten. Where only the cool (read those not working with my damn work server) are able to get access to the festivities.
I'm practically depressed now.

The thing is, until not so long ago, before the age of facebook hit me in the face (pun intended), I was content to browse the internet for peculiar tidbits all day long. I did not need Facebook. And now, a mere 10 months after I joined, a day without Facebook drives me nuts.

Is this what the future means? What happens the day all internet access is suddenly blocked by, say, a fluke bomb from the Pentagon (you know, it does happen occasionally, they don't even deny it) that accidently (yeah right!) hits some vital power line, and we are all forced to go without the world wide web of wonders? What will we do?

Play Solitaire? That is soooo 90's!