I write because I hope that it will help me heal, not numb the pain like just talking about it does, but help me close those wounds. It happened today, this evening at mass. What happened? Why am I making this sound so dramatic so heavy? Can't I add a bit of humor to this incident, I mean, this guy I know as a friend, Maximus, just outside the door of the church, still in the archway between the steps and the door, before those romanesque columns at the top of the few steps yells at me, his face livid: 'Pancho, get serious man, this is church you don't play in church'
'I'm sorry' I said, boy I could he was angry and this was just because I whispered 'are you leaving now?' as I walked past him on the way back to the pew where we were both sitting after communion and even then he snapped and said 'this is church!' and much louder than my question.
Before I could say much more Maximus bolted down the steps and shouted 'I'm not gay!'
At this point, I could have tried to be funny and shouted back 'tell me something I don't know?'. What happened was that phrase left me with just a wry smile and a confused face to the onlooking people that were emerging from the church and caught our conversation.
What had happened? Well, now that I think back and trace my steps, I was not sitting on same pue as Maximus when I cam in. I was much more in front. Everytime during the 'peace be with you' part of mass, I venture beyond my pew to shake hands, I to other pews behind me, on the other side of the ailse and I usually end someplace else. I always make a point of greeting the friends I see and I always greet Maximus, this time was no exception. The only difference was I ended up on the same pew as him. But we were not sitting close, even for American standards with the bubble of personal space, there were only the two of us on that pew, basically on opposite ends. So was it that I took the odd glance to my left to look at his piety that ticked him off? Or was it merely the fact I ended there, on his pew, where no one else was sitting. It puzzles me.
I tried to just read the book about the fossils of Namibia, which I bought for a family friend in Bulgaria, Victor, who studies geology. It is filled with the history and illustrations of not only the creatures that inhabitted our land eons ago, but also of the actual sites in Namibia where you can see there tracks - literally - the fossilized footprints. I read on and it reminded me of my childhood fascination with Dinosaurs and the Dinosaur magazine for kids I used to collect and read, of the Jurassica documentary on Discovery channel. But I did not get far in the book, nor in my recollections of this childhood hoby before the pain started creeping in. I remembered Massimo and what he said. Were we not friends? And he knew that I was gay, I mean he figured out the first time I met him and he said he was fine with it. He asked me for 'girl advice' and I told him I knew nothing about that department because I was into guys and he said it was cool. For a Catholic! He is young, he is about my age, perhaps a year or too younger. So I was astounded to see him act that way. That really lascerated my heart. I reminds me of when I was in fourth grade and I would come home from school and then lie on my bed, on the side so no one would see, and I would cry and cry, till my head hurt. I was different, it was clear and the kids at school made sure I knew that. Back then I did not know what this feeling of weirdness was, until much later in high school - I accepted that I was gay. No wonder they call it being queer.
Just last week I was walking down the steps as I chatted with him, 'Massimo, that's your name in Italian'
'Massimo' he repeated, intrigued. I then saw my two Italian pensioner friends (I always go to them and give the peace of Christ as la pace di Cristo) and began chatting with them and somehow my conversation with Maximus never took hold and he just left, I felt it was kind of rude. Other times, he would leave the church sooner than I did and just walk out of the grounds before we could chat. Most of the times, I would greet him and we would shake hands, in a very hip and cool way, very Namibian yet still manly. Now that I think of it, there was a time I came to him and yelled 'Maximus ! ' in a very sweet voice as I approached to embrace him and he was like 'whoa whoa whoa!' and he preempted me with a handshake that I accepted. So yeah, he did not like the whole affectionate thing and I sensed that, I responded to that appropriately.
So this is the point where I as the gay one have to reevaluate my actions, my demeanor because of course, I must have made him feel uncomfortable, something which I should have just avoided at all costs, just kept my distance. Clearly, I am saying this with irony as the fact that I am a gay man sitting on the same pew as him and yes, I did talk to him during mass as we walked back from communion, something not done in church, but did this warrant such a reaction? Now that I think about it, this is not about who was wrong and who was right. This is about him feeling uncomfortable - or his manhood threatened - and then him hurting me as a result. I felt that I was gonna get beat, really! Good thing he just vented and left.
And yet I just cannot put my finger on what happened. Two weeks ago we were chatting and he shared how he was looking for work and he idea of studying economics next year, but doing another bachelors. I advised him to just do the masters since he already has done sociology. The last thing he said that day to me was 'look, I also have this girl and we want to be together',
'so you want to get married soon and so you need to find a job?' I said, and I think he affirmed my reply, but then he also seemed to leave something unsaid. Could have tried to tell me 'lay off cause I have a girlfriend?' and why would he try to insinuate such a thing? Did he really think I was hitting on him, after meeting his girlfriend, after speaking to him after every mass I have seen him at St Mary's for the past year and half?
Yes, I admit it, the very first time I went up and spoke to him, it was because I reckoned he was the most handsome man I had seen in a long time. But that was before I got to know him and certainly before I came out to him and he was cool with it.
The only explanation I have is a deep insecurity that has brought out this side of him, that has brought out how as he told me ,'used to be'. Perhaps it has to do with looking for a job and not finding one, or something els. I do not know. I just have to put this 'mental health reason' out there for his behavior, because otherwise I will not be able to deal with pain inflicted on my heart. He could not have said those things and been of sound mind. Or perhaps he has never had a gay man sit on the same pew with him before and only now he realises it is hard to deal with.
After the incident two people spoke to me. The one was a man who asked 'if anyone had approached me before' about just my behavior in Church. Apparently, I draw out the hymns I sing and it is just too loud, he advised I just 'go with the flow of the church'. The other was a lady who as he spoke told me 'you know if that is the way you worship the Lord my dear, than do not let anyone try and tell you how you must do it.' She later stayed behind after the man left and said 'if that is your friend you should tell him you do not appreciate him for that, and you should tell him that you are serious in the church and you are not playing (Maximus had shouted 'get serious and stop playing'). She almost made me cry. She gave me a blessing and indeed she said 'blessed evening' and I returned with 'you too, you gave me a blessing'.
What am I even doing in Church? Why do I even go to this evening mass or any mass? Is there something I have missed that so many other gay men see who no longer go to Church? Is it about time I just too my leave from this 'organised, mass worhship'?
'This is not a gay Church', that is is what my brother told me this morning. He tried to use as a reason for me to wear pants instead of shorts to Church. For mothers' day, he agreed to go to Church, but 'not if I look the way I do'. So there you have it, that is what cuts so deep. Naturally I did not end up going with my mother and brother to Church. No sir. I did not conceed, as much as they tried to convince me and my mother pleading with me to put on pants, I refused and when I made my way to door of the house to leave, she shouted a hurl of insults (all in Bulgarian, so don't ask me to translate but I am sure you can guess what it has to do with).
These are the realities I have to deal, the incongruity or apparent conflict of my person, my sexual orientation (or preference?) with my faith.
We are cool with my mom now. I told her that I should have known they would have wanted me to dress up, since they are participants in this whole traditional society project. (i.e. they are normal). But, I added, they should have known I would not have wanted no part in this project. We should have had understanding (hey I spent two years in a United World College to foster international understanding) and we should have avoided the conflict somehow.
If I sinned in not conceding, I hurt my mother. If she sinned, it was because she also hurt me. No one was 'wrong', we were just two people who hurt each other (that especially goes for my brother, we hurt each other).
And perhaps wearing pants is not such a big deal, but it is for me! I spent so long getting out of having to perform, to be normal and so there was no way I would perform this morning that were a coherent family, my mother, brother and me, all dressed up nicely for Church. So I did not pretend.
Time to go to sleep. I want to dream of Dinosaurs instead.
