Showing posts with label pride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pride. Show all posts

29 June 2013

Romania: 5 Reasons

On my recent trip to Bucharest for the meeting of our international coalition, I was challenged by a local person to write a letter outlining five reasons one should want to go there. This is my answer to that challenge.


One: Beauty (natural)

It might be odd that I am illustrating my point about natural beauty with a paved bicycle path and sidewalk, but what can I say? I’m a city boy. My impression of Bucharest as green was probably helped by my having stayed in a hotel that was adjacent to a large green space. There are plenty of parts of the city, like any other, that seem to be wanting for trees, but there were some remarkable examples of urban greenery that I really appreciated. If you can have a large boulevard and succeed in integrating several strips of grass and trees, not to mention lovely shaded bicycle lanes and sidewalks on both sides, you have succeeded in making your city more pleasant. And if you can add a touch of whimsy by detouring your bicycle path around a phone booth, even better!


Two: Beauty (architectural)

There are some truly magnificent buildings in Bucharest that deserve a visit, even if only to see them from the outside. I illustrate this point with a photo I took that I like to call “Faded Beauty” — an obviously beautiful little home with lovely architectural details that could use a little work. Many buildings have had that work done, and many are waiting for that to start. Like many cities, there are some very utilitarian buildings (apartment blocks, for example) that date from a time where function trumped form, but I see even these as moving toward improvement and beautification.

I found it funny that our host organization described the building in which it is housed as being “Communist Architecture” (read grandiose and stern). I didn’t find it cold, but actually rather interesting, in that way that a bit of work would also improve it. I’ve been in much worse spaces in community organizations at home.

With more time, I would also have ventured forth to see Bran Castle (former home of Vlad the Impaler, aka Dracula) and other such historical delights that are distant from the city itself. Next time.


Three: Creativity

I asked about this podium for a statue out front of the press building and I loved the answer I got. The statue that had been pulled down was of Lenin, shortly after the end of the regime, I would imagine. The podium now receives a new sculpture each month from a group of artists, and I couldn’t have been more amused by the installation for the time that we were there. There’s more art, too: outside important buildings, in major squares, but also in front of some apartment blocks or seemingly just along the street. I love sculpture in public places, and there really is no shortage of it in Bucharest, and no shortage of variety in styles and content. Bravo!


Four: Language

I haven’t done a lot of travelling to places where most people don’t seem to speak either English or French, the ones in which I can get by. It was kind of a fun experience for me, and would have been more so if I hadn’t felt pressed for time in my various personal missions. I hear that Romanian is closer to Latin than is modern Italian, and perhaps closest to Portuguese among the modern Romance languages. I felt I could make out significant portions of the Romanian-only menu when we went to a restaurant, but the spoken language sounds to my inexpert ears like it has an overlay of Russian that isn’t as familiar to me.

As an aside, it was interesting to compare some notes with one of my sisters, recently back from a trip to China. When we lack to vocabulary to express ourselves, we often resort to gesture and pantomime, not realizing just how culturally specific some of those gestures can be. We each had a good chuckle about our respective incapacities to convey the image of tea or of an alcohol one might drink in shots, both of our efforts eliciting puzzled looks from the people on the receiving end of our efforts.


Five: Attitude

We happened to be in Bucharest for the gay pride march, although I was personally too tired to go participate (worst nap choice I ever made). Yes, there were people from a number of embassies present, an action that serves to help protect the participants from official or unofficial hostility, but it seems that the counter-demonstration of religious bigots was quite small and benign.

If you look at a map of how different countries stack up on this issue, you cannot help but notice that Romania seems to be a bit of an island of tolerance in its neighbourhood. Some countries nearby are passing actively anti-gay laws, and others are witness to violent counter-demonstrations that are either tolerated or encouraged by authorities. It doesn’t seem to be the case with this European Union member. I’m sure there are some very backward attitudes in some segments of the population, particularly on this issue, but I didn’t see those and I’m glad that the march didn’t see much of those either.


Bonus: Men

Okay, I was warned not to use this one (and have no original photo, but I’m slipping in Marian Dragelescu, gymnast, to make my point), and I consider it an accomplishment to have held off until the bonus reason to bring it up. No apologies here, though. I’m a proud gay man and I will always find the men of any place to which I travel to be interesting. Romania being in the general vicinity of what I like to call “The Great Olive Ellipse” (that area all around the Mediterranean that is home to various versions of olive-skinned people I cannot help but find attractive), it not only houses a population of such attractive people, but also draws them from the surrounding countries. So, exceptionally attractive to the point of outshining all the other countries? Not necessarily, but certainly worth investigating! ;-)

02 August 2008

Friday en français : une sortie bien attendue

Ça fait maintenant quelques semaines depuis que j'ai reçu les nouvelles : après vingt-trois ans ensembles, ma petite sœur et son amie se sont mariées et elles ont enfin annoncé leur relation à mes parents.


Ma famille a grandie et j'en suis heureux

Le mariage a eu lieu dans un petit village où elles demeuraient pendant plusieurs années et sans la participation des membres de la famille, sauf, bien sûr, des membres de leur famille choisie (des amis de longue date avec qui elles restent toujours en contact).

Revenons un peu sur l'histoire de ma famille. Après plusieurs tentatives en personne, j'ai fait ma sortie par lettre en 1981 à l'âge de 21 ans. Je craignais la réponse de mes parents car j'avais entendu des histoires d'horreur de la part de mon entourage et je n'avais aucun indice de la réponse qu'auraient pu avoir mes parents. Tous les deux élevés dans une petite ville en Colombie-britannique, mes parents n'avaient pas abordé le sujet dans ma présence. À la fin, je n'avais rien à craindre : ils m'ont téléphoné le jour où ils on reçu ma lettre pour me dire qu'ils m'aimaient et que rien ne mettait en question leur amour de leur fils. Quelques mois plus tard, ma mère m'avait même dit qu'elle regrettait les occasions à travers les années où elle avait sûrement du m'offenser par des paroles insensibles (pas à ma connaissance).

Il faut souligner cependant que j'ai vécu des années très difficiles avant cette lettre en 1981, mais que la réaction des mes parents a eu un effet très positif pour moi. Sachant que je pouvais compter sur eux, je n'avais aucune hésitation seize ans plus tard, lors de mon diagnostic du VIH-sida, à chercher leur soutien. Ils l'ont offert, comme toujours, sans réserve.

C'est pourquoi donc que ma sœur a du vivre les mêmes difficultés (ou bien des semblables) que j'ai vécu? J'aurais pensé que j'avais posé la geste difficile, de dévoiler ma sexualité dans l'ignorance de la réponse que je pouvais attendre. Elle aurait pu suivre assez facilement, non? Mais non, c'est un sentier que chaque homme gai et chaque femme lesbienne doit faire pour soi-même. Un grand défaut de notre société, selon moi, et un défaut qui mène à des dépressions, des suicides et des comportements destructeurs qui pourraient être si facilement évités.

Elle a commencé avec moi, son frère gai avoué, tout comme moi j'avais commencé avec la sœur qui était étudiante universitaire : des expériences qui devraient offrir la possibilité d'une ouverture d'esprit non pas garantie par une vie dans notre village, à l'abri des changements sociaux de l'époque. Par la suite, c'était mes deux autres sœurs qui m'ont posé la question à plusieurs reprises — « est-elle…? » Je leur ai dit de poser cette question à elle, « …mais vraiment, posez-la! »
Peu à peu nous sommes arrivés au stade où tous les enfants de la famille savaient, mais que personne n'était capable de deviner ce que mes parents savaient. C'est vrai que depuis vingt-trois ans mes parents accueillent son amie (maintenant sa femme!) comme leur belle-fille, et souvent mieux que leur autre belle-fille (mais ça c'est un autre histoire). Mais de temps en temps, mon père ou ma mère laissait échapper un commentaire qui nous faisait dire entre nous « Ils ne savent pas! Comment ça? » D'où la réticence de ma sœur et de ma nouvelle belle-soeur de faire leur sortie plus tôt.

S'il y a en tout ça une lueur d'espoir, c'est la normalisation du mariage entre personnes de même sexe qui s'installe à travers le pays. Un peu partout, dans des petits villages tout comme dans les grandes villes, il y a des familles qui se rassemblent pour participer à ces mariages comme observateurs, comme participants et ça devient du quotidien. Ce sont des événements familiaux et non pas des manifestations politiques, et ça, c'est l'évolution qui doit se répéter dans tous les aspects de la vie d'une personne gaie ou lesbienne avant que nous soyons vraiment égaux.


Dans le cas de ma sœur, je regrette qu'elle n'ait pas eu la présence de sa famille lors de son mariage, mais je suis content de pouvoir dire avec certitude que les secrets sont maintenant finis et qu'elle peut compter sur l'entier appui de sa famille. Si seulement on pouvait dire la même chose pour tout le monde.

28 July 2007

Proud, Not Proud

In honour of Montréal's gay pride weekend, I thought I would participate by making a little list of what makes me proud and not proud of myself and my community.

I am proud that Montréal has an explicitly inclusive pride, without messages denouncing those who dare to differ from mainstream society — drag queens and the leather community. There is no big endorsement of the 'We're the normal gays' message here.

I am not proud of the youth- and beauty-centricity that still very much dominates the community.

I am proud of the creativity that typifies the community and all of the things that we do.

I am not proud of the poverty and the disparity that often makes this creativity a necessity from day to day.

I am proud of the dedication of the hundreds of people who give of themselves to volunteer in our many community organizations.

I am not proud that much of the rest of our community seems to have lost its interest in and appetite for health messages, including HIV prevention messages.

I am proud that our community rallied to maintain the community aspects of our pride: community day, where the street is filled with the many health and social organizations who work all year to better the lives of all our community members, and the parade, where we show the rest of our society the diversity in our part of the community.

I am not proud that the community aspects were not central to the interests of the previous organizers, who made the very rushed rallying necessary by announcing their own withdrawal from the task mere months ago.

I am proud that I am able to live my life openly as a gay man in this city, with little fear of victimization by the majority.

I am not proud of the ever-present stigma related to being HIV-positive, even in the gay community (although this is less prevalent in our community).

On a personal level, I am proud that I spent several hours volunteering for my own organization setting up and taking down the kiosk that we had up today.

I am not proud that this was the limit of my participation. I am not feeling particularly like a part of my community these days, due to a few of those people mentioned in the previous post.


If I were to tip the balance here, I would add that I am not proud that I have come to the point of seeing myself through those judging eyes. There are only so many times that one can be slapped in the face before deciding not to present the face for slapping.