Oct 19, 2007

Life on the Street: Transvestites and Trust

Experience is the best teacher and experiencing life on the streets educates most.

Clichéd as it seems, no one knows of the fact better than Dian, 20, originally from Semarang, trying to make a living in Yogyakarta, a city of students. Being a transvestite does not make her life any easier.

Now a regular in the dark corners of Lempuyangan Train Station, she used to hang around the swimming pool of Umbang Tirta for customers before being chased out by citizens of the neighborhood, for the usual reasons of acting against sinful activities. Dian scoffs at this reasoning with a laugh, “Most of these people saying this and that about my ‘profession’ were once customers of mine.”

Meeting Dian at her place, a small box of an apartment with no ventilation in Tukangan, she looked happy and content.

“The people here are nice, they don’t make a fuss about my sexuality and what I do nights. In fact, the owner of this boarding place frequents my place for a massage, once or twice”. Dian laughs off my remarks of lecherous intentions from said person. “He merely acted out of kindness, as he understands it is the only way I’ll accept his money”.

As if to display his high tolerance towards the minority-based-on-sexuality, the whole first floor of the block is rented to transgenders and transsexuals by the owner, with a male homosexual couple living together on the second floor.

When asked about her heterosexual flat mates, which consists of other street kids, ranging from a mere 15 years old of age to 35, Dian beams a smile. “We are one big family here, taking care of each other”.

Almost as proof of her statement, the room which is nearly cramped up by a mattress, a foldable wardrobe and a fourteen inch television set is then filled by “streeties”, dropping by for a quick chat and a peek at the news. An expected innuendo or two was heard that evening, but all given and received in good humor, as people who have long been in a healthy relationship would.

Another transvestite who answers to the name Brenda, 19, is seen washing very masculine clothes by the well outdoors. In light-hearted spirit she answered my questioning eyes, “You don’t think these are mine, do you? Of course they’re not. These street kids help care for us, and I pay them back by helping them with household chores”.

Brenda confesses of nights when she gets harassed by people and policemen alike, being threatened of abuse both physically and mentally, and how there is always help from fellow “streeties”.

“There would always be people putting on important airs and ganging up on us transvestites, especially when we are alone. And they,” waving a crudely manicured hand towards the two-storied building, “will stop their singing or whatever it is they were doing to help us chase these annoying people off”.

Both Brenda and Dian agree that to reside amongst the “streeties” is the safest and most tolerable way of living. In Dian’s own words, “It is never about the money, it is about being accepted. Especially since we are not considered as first-class transgenders, not with our less than passable looks. It’s the only option before we grow old and ugly, and have to resort to singing and shaking rattles… and living loveless.”

Ahmad Sobir, 19, an art student whose choice of earning his meals is by entertaining diners by the sidewalk of Kali Code, agrees that he and other tenants have no problem sharing an abode with “the girls”. “Besides, they introduce us to their abundant female friends, who are at most times good looking,” says Sobir with a grin.

Sadly, Dian, Brenda and the other transvestite tenants’ happiness were short-lived. During the recent month of Ramadhan, “the girls” were chased out of Tukangan by the local residents.

Their excuse was that the transvestites went aboard by bringing men into the all male residence, and to the all-righteous villagers, the act was beyond intolerable.

Oct 5, 2007

What I Am

I like boys who like boys
who like girls like me
who like them
with their spirits free

I love girls who like boys
who like girls like me
who like them
are inwardly sexy

I like chocolate sundae ice
creams not strawberry
not cherry, and

I like ginger snaps in my
Jack D's
Not funny
but still I giggle
hysterically.

I need girls who like girls
who like girls like me
who like them
heal bruised hearts tenderly

I want boys who like girls
who like girls like me
who like them
will let me be me.

Oct 4, 2007

Cinta buat Kita

Cinta
bukan hanya kata
tapi puisi jiwa

Tapi kau bukan pujangga

Dan aku
hati pun aku tak punya

Buat kita
cinta itu bagai mata uang tak laku.

Buat si Pemabuk Yang Menyanyi Lagu Patah Hati

Bukan temasya ini
kau
hentilah teriak-teriak!

Dan hening terpecah-pecah
di malam menggelegak amarah!