LGBT letter writing

The earth is hollow. The crust separates the nothingness of outer space from nothingness inside. If the earth was an apple and you bit into it, you find that you were biting into nothing. No that it would pop or explode like a balloon full of air, it would maintain the shape of an apple with a bit missing – like the apple logo, but there would be nothing.

In writing this post, I am returning to the true meaning of Pancho’s brouillons – a blog about nothing and everything that constitutes that nothingness. There is no more to say except:

Yesterday was Friday a very eventful day. I woke up to the sound of my cellphone and a voice in my head saying “you set the wrong alarm!” It was my friend Abdul who sent me an sms about Jesus or the Bible, it was a verse in Ezekiel 33 about death. Heavy verse about punishment and death. So I read the story about Lazurus in the Gospel to remember how the Lord brought the dead back to life.

I found out my letter in The Namibian about the launch of the LGBT network in Namibia and its shortcomings – exclusivity – was published. The fear inside me that I would now have to face my mother and father and who knows else about why I was writing about gay issues swelled up. I felt my article was too critical now, reading it from my room, why did I not talk about public health issues, men who have sex with men, heterosexism emerged in my mind as self critiques. All the while I was just covering up the fact that this was a letter about Lesbians Gay Bisexual and Transgender people having access to the network, it was about gay issues period in general, without specifying too much. I did mention churches, workplaces and places of learning as places were gay people need recognition i.e. they are invisible, as invisible as my article to my parents who did not say a thing, I even wonder if any of them read it! (My dad probably did, he reads The Namibian daily). Then the music started playing as I was there thinking, from the neighbors house across the yard and over the fence, club music, a house song that would be heard in any gay club. This was my indirect way of “coming out” and yet no one saw it. Denial, the power of denial, the veil of denial, the denial of denial; all these things protects them from the truth. That is why I published it – with my name – because I do not underestimate the power of denial. It was as if nothing happened, no letter came out. You may ask why did I not just tell my family about this letter. No. It would be too much for my mother right now, I would just bring her further anguish. For nothing.

I am planning to contact the LGBT network and write to them about how I still want to get involved. Today I found out that yesterday, Friday, the chair or director or whoever sent me an email on facebook asking me to join the fill in a membership form at the facebook group. It was a generic message, my name did not appear. Well did I actually make some waves? It seems so.

Now reading the letter in the paper, I notice so many errors! Oh La, La, oui je l’ai érite sans réfléchir bien que j’aie pensé pendant une heure, marchant dans le magasin et par les rue jusqu'à ce que je me suis mis à écrire la lettre au derrière d’une vielle affiche que j’ai trouve sur le pianoforte dans le studio de danse au collège des arts Windhoek. Comme mon ami Fabrice m’a dit, il aurait fait mieux dire, brièvement et avec élégance : « Malgré tout (la exclusivité de la boume du lancement du réseau LGBT ) c’est une bonne initiative, mais il est important qu’il soit plus inclusif »

Ils l’ont publiée sans avoir rédiger la lettre – avec toutes mes fautes !

I am grateful that The Namibian both advertised and covered the launch of Lesbian Gay Bixsexual and Transgender (LGBT) Network of Namibia. The launch party of the organization was a queer affair – both in the contemporary and antiquated sense of the word. The guests had to fork out N$ 450 dollars to enjoy the dolphin cruise on a boat that brandished the six colored rainbow flag. Lavish and unapologetically gay the event lived up to the flamboyant consumerism that underpins the notion of queer in metropolitan cities around the world. Such decadence, however, was out of place in the launch of a campaign of “equality for all Namibian citizens”, given that at least 40% of Namibians struggle to feed themselves. This made the event strange – queer in the old sense of the word. Racially, it was also strange to see only white people in the photos of the party, because our LGBT community is as multicolored as the LGBT flag.

The origins of the acronym LGBT derive from an attempt at inclusion, rather than the exclusivity evident in the LGBT launch party. The acronym was adopted to encompass the all same sex loving persons who were until then conflated into term “queer”. Accordingly, the LGBT community of San Francisco adopted the six colored rainbow flag (no indigo) to reflect their cultural, racial, sexual and social diversity. Unfortunately, the LGBT network of Namibia appears to have bought into the consumerist aspect of the LGBT subculture that has emerged in the United States, Western Europe and South Africa. I therefore appeal to the LGBT Network of Namibia to launch the organization for the remainder of the Namibian LGBT people who could not afford that Walvis Bay Party of April 24^th.

Given their campaign for equality, I am confident that the LGBT network did not intent to be exclusive, but how many marginalized, poor, LGBT people did they expect to attend this event? The LGBT Network did place itself in a box, in spite of its intentions to do otherwise. To an outsider, the LGBT Network is proof of the homosexuality being a concept foreign, mostly wealthy, white people brought to Africa. Indeed, the organization invited Mr Charl van der Berg – Mr Gay World 2010, whose white South African origins unfortunately play right into the hands of the homophobic discourse of this country. I hope they will find a local Namibians who are representative of the countries polylingual, multicolored people for the second launch party, which I hope to attend.

There is a need for an LGBT network in Namibia, a network that goes beyond facebook, beyond parties. LGBT people are in need of recognition in our universities, schools, armies, churches and a myriad of other places. Though I have my reservations, I must commend the LGBT Network of Namibia for attempting open up opportunities for the minority of same-sex loving people in Namibia. Let us all unite under that goal.

Nonostante tutto cìo non ancora compiuto tutte le cose che volevo fare, rimangano ancora tante cose a scrivere, sopratutto lettere ai miei amici. A Domenic Petrella volevo scrivere : Ciao Domenica come stai ? (Ogni bella lettera si comincia così, anzitutto quando si vuole rimettere in contacto con una persona)

Ti devo dire Domenico che in questi giorno, da un mese fa, circa, penso spesso a te. Non so perchè, magari è dovuto al fatto que sulla RAI international si parlava recentamente del terromoto che aveva colpito il Sud d’Italia due anni fa. La vita in Abruzzo (il tuo paese, vero?) si fu peggiorata a causa del seismo que aveva lasciato tanti edifici distrutti - mucchi di pietre, legno, plastico, vetro e cemento (“cement?”).

Tra l’altro l’impatto psicologico del terremoto sulle diverse communità che ci vivono è imisurabile e grave.

Come stai, ti chiedo ancora una volta, perchè non l’ho fatto quando dovevo in 2008 quando fu sucesso tutto quanto.

A proposito, mi sono laureato da Princeton quasi un anno fa e sono rimasto molto potente, cioe, mi ritengo in grado di fare qualsiasi cosa, grazie alla mia formazione a Princeton. Adesso, uno delle cose che faccio e aiutare mia cugina a superare l’esame del diplomia di scuola media superiore in Namibia. Spero che il mio aiuto – le mie spiegazioni e delucidazioni della matematica che studia – le consenta l’accesso al mondo del lavoro formale. Mi sono reso conto che potevo farlo alcune settimane fa quando ci siamo riuniti per studiare le frazioni (fractions?) a la casa della nostra altra cugina dove vive. Nangobe, la cugina che aiuto, ha di colpo fatto uscire un baratollo di caffè “Illy”, imagina, quello alumino, cilindrico con la parolle “Illy” dipinta in rosso e argente. Mi sono accorto delle opportunità che fin’addesso Dio mi ha consegnato e mi sono detto “Sì lo posso fare, posso aiutare Nangobe.” Nangobe è solo due anni più giovane di noi, ma ha gia un bambino di cui prende cura.

Domenico, prova un piacere dell’anima scrivendoti adesso. Un altra cosa che ti voglio dire prima del termine di questa lettere: Sei bello, sei veramente bello è spero che nessuno ti convincera a pensare altro. Al collegio, lo pensavo ma non ho mai osato dirtelo!