Vanda's happiness
was half-celebrated in his mind. The film where he was starring was earning
millions at the box office. He knew that the theme that of a gay guard would
gather a lot at the tills. It was a dream role for him because he had always
wanted to take potshots at men who liked to show off their masculine traits
even if they did not approximate the physique of Hollywood macho wrestling
actors. A good opportunity came when the film producer approached him for the
role after she had seen him on television, singing, dancing, and acting among
non-actors as well as actors to entertain the audience. She said, he had a
knack for making people laugh.
But what brought
tears in his eyes was the death of his lover from AIDS. He never exacted
loyalty from him as he himself would sleep around when his lover was out of
town appearing at provincial sorties. For them, it was a given that they would
not allow loneliness to get over them once they temporarily separate. They only
wanted the happiness of each other even if only for a minute or a day. And so
they had gone their merry ways.
While he was
receiving the award for best actor for the film, he thanked everyone, including
his father who hated so much his having turned gay that he had thrown him out
of the house and even followed him on the road.
He remembered that
very day very much etched in his mind. He was brushing his teeth and preparing to go to school. He was third year high school at that time and had friends who were also gay who came home with him the previous night. His father
must have heard them talking about their escapades with guys. Fortunately, he
did not bother them, nor reprimand them for the sometimes lewd parts of their
discussions.
Why, we are all
creatures of heaven, he and his friends had said. Vanda said that he would
always feel his heart palpitating when a man whom he really fancied would pass
by. But with women? No way. He was simply dedma, as in a stone turned rocky as
Guimaras and Gibraltar.
Ah, I too had felt
that way, his friend Toto told him. But I have to caution myself because if I
so much as showed a flutter of my eyes, my father would right away bamboozle me
with his slippers. He simply could not accept me as I am. But my mother, my
dear mother would console me, hug me, embrace me and tell me I am just human.
Bless her soul but she died after a few months when I left the house.
And why shouldn't
I? I too left our house, Vanda said. My father followed me to the road, while
hurling invectives at me. He grabbed the collar of my shirt but I was able to
steal away. Still he pursued me until I tripped on a cracked cemented road. I
fell and then he was able to throw his full weight around me. I was black and blue
when he and I went home. My mother nursed me, putting hot and cold water on the
red and blue "pasa" on my body and face. All night long I wept on my pillow. My mother did too, I know, while my father kept berating her for encouraging my insistence on being different.
One evening, i
talked to my mother and told her, Ma, I have to go na. I cannot stand it
anymore. I hope you would not worry when I am gone.
But why do you
have to go?
Ma, Father might kill
me and I would feel responsible for the crime if he did. Then you would become
a widow. What will happen to you then? Your only source of income is his
pension from soldiery.
After a few days,
my mother gave her consent. Actually, I had been removing my things one by one
already and had brought them to a friend's house. Then when she finally gave
her consent, I hugged and kissed her on the cheeks and told her I would
communicate with her everyday of my life. Please Ma, pray for me that I may
live longer to take care of you too.
Vanda and his
friends went to Luneta to celebrate his freedom. It was the happiest day of his
life. He no longer had to pretend that he was a man. For him that was the big
boulder strung around his neck, having to show his father daily that he was a he-man,
someone who showed very few emotions, guarded feelings. Instead, he and his
friends laughed loudest when they would swap jokes among themselves, or even
recall how some masculine men would even cry for them not to leave them because
they too had fallen in love with them – their cute ways of being always modest,
of being tender and loving towards them. Why did they leave them? Because they
became spoiled by their love.
Yes, the gays have
the tendency to spoil their loved ones. Vanda's friends would always splurge on
their lovers after earning a lot from their impersonation jobs. They would buy
new briefs, pancit and food galore, and the finest wines that the town could
offer. They would go drinking overnight while the friends of their lovers
shared the food with them. But when the bar they were appearning in closed down
and they didn't have anymore jobs, no more salaries, Vanda's friends would stay
at home and call up others for leads where they could perform again. For months
that went on and on. Their lovers were sympathetic for sometime but later on
turned cynical and finally brutal when they too were forced to look for
higher-paying jobs to be able to pay their home rents.
The separations
were either too violent or too ad misericordiam. Some men would hie off and
Vanda's friends would even wrap themselves around the men's arms, legs and
bodies;but they were just turned down and even oh, it is so difficult to
describe. Other separations were tearful. Each one of them knew that to be
together, they needed money, funds to feed the high lifestyle that they had
cultivated while together. Not being able tosustain that no longer felt heavenly.
Every sexual encounter was like a machinelike grating of bearings. Pilit na
pilit.
For Vanda, he
was lucky to have reined in his feelings. He cultivated his talents, worked as
a messenger at an entertainment company, which finally saw his histrionic
talents. After a few workshops, he was ready to take off as a solo host of his
own TV program, and as we said earlier, as a major actor in the film about gays. Now he is receiving his much-coveted award as best actor:
“Maraming salamat
po sa inyong pagtangkilik ng aking pelikula at higit sa lahat sa pagkilala sa
aking abilidad na maka-arte. Ay, no ba ito, inarte? Mahirap ho talagang mag
Tagalog. Oy, ano ba ang acting sa Tagalog, di ba arte? Hahaha. Mga kababayan
ko, pinasasalamatan ko ang aking
producer na si Eda Murillo. Kung wala siya, ay hindi ako mabibigyan ng break sa
pag-arte. Pinasasalamatan ko rin ang aking ina, Ay sumalangit nawa ang kanyang
kaluluwa. Siya po ang unang gumalang sa aking pagiging gay. Hinding hindi po
niya ako kinagalitan sa aking masidhing pakiramdam na mapabilang sa gay sector,
at matutong umibig sa lalaki.
At akin rin pong
pinasasalamatan kayong mga nanood at mga manonood pa sa aking pelikula, bagaman
ang kuwentong ito ay hango sa isang Hollywood film. Pinamagatan naming Is it a
Sin? dahil po sa ating lipunan, kasalanan daw ang magmahal ng sariling kasarian.
Nais po naming mamulat ang ating lipunan na may mga tao talagang ganyan ho
talaga. At kaya nakapupulot tayo ng ideya sa abroad at pagkatapos
nolo-localize na lang natin ay dahil mas bukas ang lipunan nila sa
pagkakaiba-iba ng kasarian ng mga tao.
Pero magaling ho ang aking scriptwriter
na si Deo Alindogan at higit sa lahat – Direk! Direk Joe Laguerta, maraming
salamat ha? Nailabas mo ang lahat ng aking talento. Alam nyo po mga kababayan,
si Direk Lagueerta, macho ho yan. Hindi ho yan gay, pero talagang pinagtyagaan
niya ang aking pelikula at kaylanman hindi ako nakaramdam ng panlalait sa
kanya. Hindi ba Direk? At kahit na anong pilantik ng aking mga mata para naman
maipamalas ko sa kanya ang aking tunay na pagmamahal... na kaibigan, oh, mga
tsismoso at malilikot ang isipan, hindi po niya ako minaliit. So,
maraming-maraming salamat po sa inyong lahat. At maraming salamat din sa aking
gay lover na namayapa na at sa aking ama. Kung hindi niya ako binugbog, hindi
ako magkakaroon ng lakas ng loob na umalis ng tahanan at magbakasakali sa
buhay.
Babu! Maligayang Pasko po. Pinasaya nyo po ng husto ang Pasko ko.
