Cured from being gay, assisted by Amazon.com recovery books

Spring is in the air in Antwerp: like most years this means rediscovering the outdoors, savouring the vibe induced by the first warm sunny days and a certain “je ne sais quoi” feeling, a hidden longing that used to cause sleepless nights each and every spring.

But this year this unidentified need finally became abundantly clear when my lovely, very religious neighbours ever so convincingly & repeatedly invited me over for coffee and much, much more. Before I knew what had happened I was holding a superb work titled “You Don’t Have to Be Gay: Hope and Freedom for Males Struggling With Homosexuality” in my unsuspicious hands. In fact, virtually every book listed at Amazon.com when entering “homosexuality” mentioned a cure or religion, and they still do.

My kind expat neighbour from Mississippi elaborately explained how many formerly gay men she had empowered, empowered to see the light using simple medical electroshocks, how many of these confused men she had assisted in marrying an imported, big-breasted Russian-with-two kids, efforts that had all culminated in finally living that perfect straight life a devil-induced temptation had prevented them from enjoying. She introduced me to an unlicensed US MD who ran a salvation clinic here in Antwerp, a man kind enough to repeatedly shock my brain, ensuring me he would successfully cure me from this gay disease. He soon became my Savior, rescuing me from a life of gay sin. Obviously, assisted by all these great Gay Cure works prominently listed at amazon.com.

Kids, a lovely Russian wife, a wholesome faith, finally being one of the boys: hey, who could resist? So I jumped in at the deep end for what had become a wild rollercoaster ride towards total liberation and straight freedom. And here I was: waiting for my new wife and children to arrive, provided my €/$ 30,000 check would clear.  But to be honest, I did sometimes wake up all sweaty in the middle of the night, dreaming about the man I had intended to grow old with. “Tricks of the devil”, my neighbour ensured me, “pray more and read all those great Amazon.com books”.

Having read each and every great book I could buy at amazon.com about “homosexuality”, (‘A Parent’s Guide to Preventing Homosexuality’, ‘Coming Out of Homosexuality’, ‘Coming Out Straight: Understanding and Healing Homosexuality’: thank you, Amazon!) I still became somewhat hesitant at times and really could have used more of your wholesome advice. I mean, if only I kept on praying real, real hard I would remain straight until my new wife arrived, right? Hey, they all promised it was meant to be this way: even the Amazon.com operator claimed these books were masterpieces. And if you can’t trust Amazon, who can you trust?

In the end, my new Russian wife and children never showed up (the €/$ 30,000 check was cashed though). And no matter how many books from Amazon on Healing Homosexuality I kept on reading to prepare, the electroshocks didn’t prevent me from calling my male partner, begging him to take me back. He cried and held me for hours. This morning we burnt the last books from Amazon. And called our lawyer.

Are you a satisfied Amazon.com customer too? [Worth reading: "Is Amazon homophobic?"]

Antwerp city to sponsor Gay Pride 2009, alongside extreme sex clubs

I’m quite upset reading that my “beloved” city of Antwerp is once again an official sponsor of the Antwerp Gay Pride 2009, a predominantly commercial event where gay emancipation has long been replaced by cashing-in on the influx of gay tourists. But what I, and a majority of responsible gay Antwerp citizens cannot fathom is the need to stand alongside extreme-sex fetish events such as A hard Night, featuring some clubs that have a bad track record or are just notorious for the unsafe sex practices of their visitors.

Dear city of Antwerp, do you actually realize that you are sharing a bed with sleazy clubs such as The Kinky’s, a private, gay, extreme fetish club? [Update: Antwerp pride removed the link after discovering  this post...] Many of us are utterly shocked, especially since this way Antwerp City indirectly appears to endorse extreme sex clubs catering to a livestyle that is bound to spread STDs and potentially even HIV.  The fact that safe-sex advocate organization “Sensoa” is also one of the sponsors makes this Antwerp Gay Pride 2009 event utterly unreal.

[Tragic note: in 1999 a Belgian court judge was fired after engaging in SM with his own wife. He even lost his civil rights. Ten years later the city of Antwerp is endorsing an open air SM and fetish fair near the prestigious city marina next June. Weird, isn't it?]

We, the majority of responsible gay Antwerp citizens urge everyone to contact the city of Antwerp to object to their sponsorship.

Tioman Island, revisited

It’s been years since I last saw you WP, ten years to be exact. Ten years of total silence, knowing you are only a three hours drive away, yet no longer physically reachable.

There must have been a compelling reason for me to seal that old carton box from Singapore with industrial strength duct-tape, as somehow I believed time would heal the pain, that somehow these old memories would have lost much of their power if I just waited long enough. I was so wrong.

Opening that picture box felt at first like an innocent trip down memory lane: our condo in Flamingo Valley, the sultry nights spent on Tioman island in a meranti cabin with the cries of monkeys breaking the hissing sound of the jungle, the virgin beaches of Turkey before mass-tourism invaded them all, our sleek convertible on the way to Key West and even our travels through the neverending jungle near San Blas, Jalisco, Mexico, on route to Puerto Vallarta.  That was our life, W, an exciting, compelling and utterly fulfilling jet-setting life that I cherished and remember oh so well. But that box became a box of Pandora when I stumbled upon your last will and testament, the checks and statements confirming I would no longer be living in the upscale suburban house we had both come to love, the old videotapes showing me walking my dog, a dog that has probably long passed away.  I’d never expected to lose it all in one single breath.

Upon opening that professionally sealed box last night the memories we once shared came back to haunt me W. And I now realize it won’t be easy to step back into the cold reality of Antwerp, Belgium, 2009 and just forget about what truly was the best part of my life.

Are you really straight?

Imagine when you would have to face this on a daily basis. How would you feel, being really “straight” in a non-straight world?

[Thanks for the link, talk of the town! (blog in Dutch)]

Magic pre-Christmas images of Antwerp, part two

OK, so I’ve been virtually trampled, squashed by “desperate housewife” Christmas shoppers in search of that ultimate present intended to save their ailing marriage and blocked by busloads of  “oh my, this marzipan looks so cute!” seasonal visitors in a frenzied shopping spree.

But in the end, while not forgetting the far from pretty economic reality, let’s enjoy these Antwerp Christmas images  evoking a magic that may be profoundly artificial, but still remains much needed and appreciated by most of us. Have a merry Christmas next week.

The day Santa Claus short-circuited Antwerp

It’s a well-known fact politicians just love Santa. Much like themselves, Santa is overflowing with promises he can’t deliver, with a jolly “ho-ho-ho” attitude that conspicuously sounds like the verbal diarrhea most politicians are famous for. So we weren’t exactly surprised that when Santa came to Antwerp last Friday, our local dignitaries fell over each other for a chance to accompany his glittering golden coach, drawn by two snow white horses. The gold was, in line with all expectations, fake. But I digress.

Let me rewind to the moment Santa arrived at Antwerp Central station, a sumptuous 1900 style railway cathedral. I’m not sure how Santa reached your happy town (in a Hummer?), but given we’re European we do prefer the more classic touch.  Suitable transportation meant a golden ride along the golden shopping mile, making convenient stops to push strategically positioned buttons, a generous act that lit up the exclusive upscale Antwerp shopping center, much like the legalized prostitution mega-complex near my home. As long there are flashing lights, people have a natural tendency to get into a suitable mindset. Stop me from digressing any further here.

Anyway, by the time Santa finally arrived at the Christmas village in front of Antwerp cathedral (a weird mix of seasonal XXX “marzipan penises”, “fresh juicy sheep bones for your dog” and 100 “eat until you drop” stands) my hands were virtually frozen, but trust me, I kept on following the camera crews from the mainstream media like a bloodhound, taking pictures until my finger went into stand-by mode.

Obviously, I did not miss the grand finale when Philip Heylen, alderman for Tourism of Antwerp (surrounded by more cops than a presidential candidate) finally allowed Santa to make his Christmas market speech, glorifying the benefits of a multi-cultural town. When my elderly neighbor suddenly loudly shouted she had been “mugged yet again in his multicultural shit city”, police gently escorted her away. Hey, if you start doubting the magic promised by the Antwerp PR dept, you will be assimilated , like in  “When the truth starts to hurt, it’s time to remove it”. Although that may sound like a GW Bush statement, I did make it up myself. Really. Before I forget: when Santa pushed the “lights on” button, half the Antwerp Christmas market short-circuited, including the traditional 1900 era merry-go-round. An omen, for sure.

The evening ended with more seasonal glamor, with Philip Heylen opening the “Christmas funfair”, a most bizarre 2008 concept involving a giant Ferris wheel on the riverbanks, along with the banned booze-stands and a number of totally unseasonal fun rides (care to be “shaken upside down” at high speed in the freezing cold? Antwerp city believes you’ll love it).

The evening came to a spectacular close when Antwerp mayor Patrick Janssens (ex marketing company CEO) opened the city hall ice skating rink, with countless party members visitors waving glittering firework sticks. I for one preferred not to burn my fingers and had a free cup of  instant soup, followed by a  60° proof liquor donated by the Norwegian embassy, those nice folks who provide the yearly tree in front of Antwerp cathedral [more seasonal opening night photos to follow asap].

When Santa almost crashed trying to skate a few meters/yards in that drag queen suite of his, I knew it was really time to go home.

I can only assume your Santa experience has been slightly more traditional, but do let me know if it wasn’t.

How dangerous is the 2008 Antwerp Christmas skating rink?

No panic, fellow Antwerp citizens and visitors: you will most likely survive your visit to the 2008 Antwerp Christmas ice rink and Christmas village. But then again, there’s a infinitely small chance you will not. As I spent the past few days photographing the build up of this annual top event, I witnessed some disconcerting security issue I felt morally compelled to warn you about. More joyful pictures, taken after the grand opening and earlier this week at the riverbanks when the setting sun engulfed the pier with an enchanting glow to follow. Tomorrow, Friday 12, Santa will pull a switch, light up the town and officially open this ice rink.

But imagine my consternation when I got a call from a friend (“I feel one of the 2008 Antwerp Christmas mobile ice rink shelters may not be 100% safe, check out the construction right now”) and personally observed this ice rink set-up today (cell-phone camera image):

Like you can clearly notice, these huge pre-fabricated units that will overflow with 100,000s skaters changing their clothes and gear, visibly appeared to be only supported at the edges by a stack of loosely piled up bricks. And no, this is not a temporary set-up, this is all the support that was provided, given the construction was closed with a wooden cover minutes later. A staff member noticing I was targeting this shoddy set-up rushed out and tried to stop me from taking this shot. Would you feel safe skating here?

Gay equals $0, straight equals $400,000

It’s a sunny day in Antwerp, Belgium, but I’m outraged. Like you may or may not know: I’m gay, living in a committed relationship with my male partner (who I only wish I’d see more often these days: he has a place of his own and his life has become hectic). Belgium is one of those rare countries offering its gay citizens full equal rights: gay marriage, gay adoption, legal protection against bigotry, along with a tolerant, liberal population without the classic overwhelming “it’s a sin” Christian religious attitude. Sure, we have right-wing bigotry and migrant Muslim intolerance towards gay citizens, but in general, most people adhere to the live and let live attitude.

Unfortunately, my parents broke that “in general” rule. While long having accepted my male partner, they recently decided that my late grandfather’s 300,000 euro ($400,000) house, a part of my expected future inheritance and originally for sale, “could serve best” as the home of my straight brother, since they totally adored watching his ever growing family live near their suburban home. To make it all legal, they came up with a waterproof  “he’s renting it” construction, but let’s face it: my granddad’s house won’t be sold anytime soon. Upon confronting my folks with this unequal treatment, my father smiled and claimed he was convinced I felt just fine in my (rented) historic downtown home, totally ignoring reality: I’ve had it with downtown living and long to return to green suburbia. I didn’t push to get to the bottom of it all, my parents had made a very clear, not to be discussed choice.

So here I am, still somewhat stunned, wondering how to react when being invited by my charming ’straight’ brother to check out his new home and enjoy the company of his (quite adorable) family, as if nothing had changed.  You know, this hurts, watching how my parents made clear they prefer having their grandchildren close, even if it means basically ignoring the needs of their gay son.

Like a gay friend of mine used to say: “no matter how many laws, no matter how much tolerance, we will often remain second class citizens”.  This “second class citizen” was last visited by his parents 8y ago, although I do visit them every month at their place.

[Update: I got a message from a fellow blogger urging me to post more upbeat, more 'positively entertaining' write-ups.  With countless great summer pictures/memories I'm quite able to follow that road, but when reality bites I feel the need to blog about that reality. Upbeat,  'positively entertaining' write-up coming up.  But I grew up in the green suburbia and had intended to return there now that I'm 'all grown up'. The incident above will make that virtually impossible.  Update 2: "what made you happiest all these years", my partner asked me, "the houses you lived in or the people who cared about you?".  Guess I'm OK now."]

A sultry night in Antwerp: images from a steel band party

As I’m still processing way too many Antwerp city party images from all the past events, I’m posting a small selection to get you in the mood. These shots: steel band party, Sat Aug 23 in front of the cathedral and city hall. Nightshots, noise-reduction using noiseware.

I’ve got a great video showing a stunning experimental steelband performance: if I get requests, I will upload the event to YouTube

Free Belgian beer for everyone!

“Free beer for everyone” last night in front of Antwerp city hall. In spite of the pouring rain the “bollekes feast“, an ongoing beer festival is currently pulling a large crowd in downtown Antwerp. Antwerp brewer “De Koninck” celebrates its 175th birthday, followed by a three day, huge open-air gourmet food festival. Antwerp, Belgium is a rainy place: 200 days a years we register precipitation. So why was this downtown crowd intentionally holding their umbrellas upside down during last Friday’s free concert? Was their behavior induced by overconsumption of all the free beer provided by Antwerp brewery the “Koninck”? Were some members of the crowd incited by some weirdo on stage (protected from the heavy rain showers) to “be bold and get wet”?  Or was it just a really weird show-off, expressing their enthusiasm?