Saying the `L' Word

Lesbians seldom garner more than a passing mention in
patriarchal, conformist Indonesian society. Maggie Tiojakin finds
that some women are gradually coming out of the closet to acknowledge their sexuality.

It is almost 11 p.m. on Saturday night, and the massive, murky arena of a Central Jakarta discotheque is beginning to fill up with
nameless faces. They spill in from the lighter and brighter outside
world, where everyone belongs to a place, a job and an identity
which does not always match their desires.

Loud music blares in every direction, drowning out conversations and human connections. “Riva”, a 34-year-old entrepreneur, sits at a corner table. Her eyes search the crowd for the familiar figure of one of the club regulars.

She came out as a lesbian at the age of 21 to a stunned reaction
from her family. Dealing with men is exhausting, she says, “especially when they’re trying to get into your pants.”

Riva is unusual in Indonesia in openly acknowledging her sexuality. While there are known lesbian hangouts of discos and
clubs in Jakarta and other major cities, and the Internet has
allowed lesbians to develop their own discreet cyber community, traditional views of sexuality, the conformist nature of society
and the shame associated with homosexuality still prevail.

Gay men and transgenders get attention, even if it is often as the
mincing laughing-stock, but lesbians still float under the sexual
radar. There are several famous single women in the entertainment world who are rumored to be lesbian but, just like
their male counterparts, their marital status is conveniently
explained away as their failure to find the right partner.

Unacknowledged and often forced into a life of hiding, many lesbians have no choice but to subject themselves to society’s
demands to marry and have a family.

“The strong partriarchal culture that we live in has always had a
tight grasp on women,” writes RR Agustine, the head of Ardhanary
Institute, an organization dedicated to the battle for equality for
LBT (lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders), on Ardhanary’s website.

“This kind of control makes women in our country feel helpless over their roles and positions in society, not to mention their
sexuality.”

It has not been easy to include lesbian issues on the gender equal
rights agenda, which has focused on rights in the workplace, family and society.

“Women who strive for equal rights between the sexes do not
automatically embrace open-minded thinking,” says Riva. “It’s not a package. Sexual orientation is a finicky topic. People are thrown off by it because they don’t understand what it entails.”

Indonesian society in general still considers homosexuality a
deviant choice, one that contravenes societal and religious norms.
Gay rights advocates counter that traditional views of sexuality are no justification for discrimination.

“Sexual orientation is a God-given right for each person to define
his or her sexuality,” writes Agustine. “Whether they’re
heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual or transgender —they should never be discriminated against because of their own
choices.”

Many gay people balk at the use of the words “choice” or “preference”, as if their sexuality was something they selected,
like a favorite color or food. They say it is who they intrinsically
are.

“Fanny”, a student at a leading university in Bandung, says her
attraction to women started when she was in junior high school. She realized that her feelings were “not normal”, but couldn’t help
them.

“How did I become this person who is so desperate for a girl’s
attention?” She pauses. “Who knows?”

She admits she isn’t open about her sexuality for fear of the
reaction from her family and friends.

“If there was a choice, I would choose to be `normal’. I would fall
in love with a guy, be a dutiful wife to him and raise his children —
the whole works.”

Every other weekend, Fanny drives to Jakarta and pays a visit to a regular club where she is able to take off her heterosexual mask
and “be a big lez”.

Riva explains that many closeted lesbians who fear rejection and
stigmatization from society often live in their own imaginary cocoon
waiting for something or someone to rescue them.

Is this how their lives are played out, as a form of
hide and seek?

“Well, we don’t really have that much to bargain
with,” says
Riva. “At least, for now, people aren’t going to
change the way they
feel about homosexuality. And, until that has changed,
this is how
it’s going to continue to be played.”

Although the disco is known as a lesbian hangout, they
are few in
number compared to the other patrons, gay men,
transsexuals, sleazy
men on the make and the female prostitutes they are in
search of.

So where are they?

“Where do you think?” Riva replies. “At home,
downloading lesbian
sex videos to get off.” She smiles. “I’m kidding.
That’s what I’d
do.”

What about relationships?

“We’re here, but we’re not,” Fanny says. “It’s like a
secret
society, but you have to know the secret doors to get
in.”

Living with secrets can no doubt be intoxicating. But
a healthy,
real relationship is not one to keep behind closed
doors. Ardhanary
Institute was established on that exact principle.

According to Agustine, it does not matter if a
relationship is
between a man and a woman, two men or two women. She
and others are
committed to fighting for those who feel they are
being persecuted
or are subject to unjust treatment because of their
sexual
orientation.

By establishing the institute, they hope to “create a
bridge between
lesbian women and society at large”.

Although many lesbians remain closeted, there are also
many others
who feel empowered by their decision to come out. It
is often a
gradual, selective process, starting with telling
trusted friends.

“Vina”, who is in her mid-20s, says the issue of
homosexuality
is “not a big deal” for many members of Indonesia’s
younger
generation.

“I try to judge how open-minded they are, and tell
those who I think
will be OK with it,” says the interior designer of
opening up to
friends. Although she is not ready to tell her family
– and does not
know if she ever will be – she would not change who
she is if given
the chance.

“What is the point of lying to yourself. I just happen
to like
girls,” she says bluntly.

“Cecil” has been living on her own for the past two
years after she
came out to her husband (he now refuses to speak to
her). Although
the process has been difficult, she believes she has
become a wiser,
happier woman because of it.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” she says, “but
if I hadn’t
been married, hadn’t known the struggle it took to
come to terms
with who I am, I would be a regular lesbian with no
insight into the
ugliness imposed upon my life —excuse me, our lives.”

Cecil says the issue she and other women face is not
about who is
the breadwinner in the family or who gets to wear the
pants, but
about “understanding who you want to share your life
with”.

Is it possible that Indonesia one day will give its
consent to same-
sex marriages?

“First, they have to know we exist,” replies Cecil.
“Signing papers
is easy, getting the papers to bear our names is the
difficult
part.”

“And the stupid part is that we’re fighting for
something that
clearly is our right to claim,” says Riva. “So we
sleep with women —
does that make us lesser compared to other women who
sleep with
men?”

She grabs her beer bottle.

“I wish I could split people’s heads open so I could
see what’s
inside them. They keep thinking being a lesbian or a
gay person is
something that can be `cured’, like malaria or
something. All it
takes is one shot into the bloodstream

It’s now 2:45 a.m. — the room reeks of sweat, liquor
and cigarette
smoke. But the women still have a few hours left to
swap stories. To
be together.

When daylight arrives, out in the real world, the same
faces will
put back on their masks. They will keep covered until
they find
their own way to show who they really are.

sumber:
http://old.thejakartapost.com/weekender/0802life1.asp