One foot in front of the other

Aside from the fact that it was my first time out of the country, the trip was hauntingly special because I was spending my 23rd birthday in an unfamiliar and distant place. I could not forget that last night in the city. “Ah you ‘kay?” The music was loud, the movements were overwhelming and the English was Thai. I could not understand a word he was saying. He looked at his friend who was busy laughing with his boyfriend, American I reckoned. I was not sure how we got to that place. I just remembered we were in a Thai friend’s friend’s birthday. I leaned toward him trying my best to figure out as he repeated, “Are you ‘kay?” I answered with a resounding “Yes! I am” with two thumbs in the air. It was his friend’s birthday party and I did not want them to think I was not having a good time. Back in Manila, I don’t usually go to clubs--definitely not to gay clubs. I do not particularly enjoy drinking and smoking and dancing and watching “entertainers” on stage. That night was different. So it was true. It was the land of the free. Pink was more vibrant and, to say the least, not frowned upon. About 1,300 miles from there, a similar party was surely being held but in a hidden room, far from the cruel eyes of the self-righteous. He grinned and signaled affirmative to his friend who appeared pleasantly surprised. Something did not feel right. Then they all exchanged glances and smiles. And then it hit me. The music, the movements and the accent almost cost me my identity. He was not asking if I was okay. He was asking if I was gay. As if making a verbal erratum, I said blushing, “Sorry. I am okay. I am not gay.” And they all nodded and went back to enjoying the night. Funny how a misunderstood word can change everything. Our friends certainly had a good time. Call it gender preference or orientation or identity--whatever it was--it was celebrated there, in the land of the free. Temples and Buddhas. Pad thai and spices. Night life and gay locals. Not bad for a first time.