The summer I spent in Taiwan as an English teacher, at the tender age of 20, was really wonderful. I met many beautiful people. Their glow, their genuine natures, helped to form the foundation of my own philosophy of honesty.
But in 1981, I was anything but comfortable with "honesty": Still struggling with my sexuality -- (I'm gay, you remember that, right?) -- Still dabbling in the world of evangelical Christianity for answers.
So, well within the closet, and pretending to be straight: I participated in the English Camp of my host, the "Chung-T'ai Academy," in T'aichung, Taiwan. The camp was a chance for locals to get away from the grind of their lives and spend a long weekend practicing their English, and just enjoying themselves. To this end, we would engage in sports in the afternoons -- things like volleyball and ping-pong.
After one particularly heated volleyball game I retreated to a bench on the sidelines. Soon Mr. S. joined me. He was a young man whom I found very attractive and sweet. He sat down next to me and pressed his bare leg against mine, gazed into my eyes and declared, "We have something in common." My heart STOPPED! A confluence of hopes, desires, fears, and subterfuges ALL collided in my mind.
I remember responding with a very lame, "What?"
"We have something in common," he repeated with the delight of conspiracy in his voice, and then he grasped my thigh with his sweaty hand (proximity for Taiwanese is considerable less than for us frigid Americans!). And to my frozen expression, he said, "We both have hairy legs."
Exhaling a muted sigh of relief, I glanced at his smooth and muscular legs, and sure enough, there were at least 5 little wiry, black hairs protruding from his otherwise porcelain smooth flesh.
So, Mr. S., we do have one thing in common, and I have long wondered whether or not we might have another....
No comments:
Post a Comment