RETURNING to Larnaca from London yesterday after a heavy night light on sleep, I was looking forward to snuggling up by the window and having the proverbial forty winks. The flight was half full and I hoped the seat next to me would remain empty. It was not to be. My neighbour, a very good-looking young man, full of the joys of spring literally bounced into his seat, slapped me on the knee and said, “Well, what shall we talk about for the next five hours?” Groan. “You?” I suggested. “Great” he beamed. And so he did.
But this was no ordinary young man, he was a mongrel of nationalities living in Cyprus and very openly gay. Open because after I had heard about his holiday in Tunisia, his studies at University, his views on the Arab/Israeli situation, his solution to the Cyprus problem and his analysis of the world in general. He said. “I’m gay.” “Good.” I said, “I’m Lauren”. He laughed.
But this was to be the beginning of our conversation, on everything you had always wanted to know about being gay but were afraid to ask. He had a disarming honesty, total shamelessness and a childish enthusiasm for disclosure. “I’ve just been cruising,” he said. “Ah, was this one of the new ones?” I asked “to Egypt or the Holy lands?” “No!” he grinned at me this time thumping my thigh. “Cruising, you know.” “Err… like George Michael?” “Yes now you’ve got it.”
So I listened to his adventures at Gatwick airport. His need to pull and his hope that he was going to find the love of his life on his next trip to Beirut. He’d been chatting online and was hopeful, but he said that it was his karma to fall in love with straight
guys. It wasn’t going to be easy to find a life-long partner. He said he knew he was gay from the age of three, that he worried about his health and getting AIDS, that he liked his life and that he thought there was too much hypocrisy. That gays were forced into secrecy, subterfuge and often marriage because of the disapproval of society. He wanted to break out of all of that.
I’d watched Brokeback Mountain win the BAFTA for best film only a few nights before. I had to agree with him that even in liberal democracies there was still a lot of confusion about being gay. That it wasn’t easy, even in Britain, for gays openly to kiss in public, dance together or admit it in their professional lives. That there is still homophobia. “So what was it like being gay here in Cyprus?” “Everything is here,” he said, “there’s a good scene, but it’s all hidden.” He went on to tell me about the rainbow flag that is used outside bars or clubs to denote they are gay, that there are things to wear, a certain look.
I asked Dan if he would mind if I wrote about him. “No, it would be great.” He went on to explain, “People need to know what it’s like to be gay. I am always open about it, I have nothing to hide or be ashamed about. I want gays to be just treated as normal, to be labelled for what they do and who they are, not for their sexuality.” Then he said, “You should look at my website.”
So I did. It’s fascinating. There is indeed a gay network here in Cyprus. But what impressed me most, was the fact that it wasn’t just about finding sexual partners, it was a whole world of self-help. Free accommodation is offered, jobs are advertised, parties and get-togethers. There would be no reason ever to be lonely wherever you were, there is a section for those travelling to meet up and be made welcome. For someone who travels a lot, and often finds herself in a strange hotel, in a strange town, in a strange country wondering how to kill the long evening hours after work, I felt oddly envious of this “family” of gayness. It would be so nice if that existed for everyone. Seemed to me it might just be harder being a woman.
