Rediscovering Malate... Again

This is an email that I sent to gay friends about going back to Malate and the time when Jake and I were just getting to know each other. One year and five months ago :)

For the past few months, I've tried to stay away as much as I can from Malate. i.e. the Orosa-Nakpil area. It was especially difficult when I broke up with my ex just two months ago in June. I was tempted to go out there and explore but there was this little boy in me who said that no, you won't enjoy it. "It's not worth it."

This reservation from going to Malate does not come unwarranted. I think it may come from the fear of the bitchboys of Malate and to a certain extent, a degree of self-depreciation and lack of self-confidence. In my day life, I'm brimming with self-confidence, knowing fully well that I am equipped with things that are necessary for the daily grind: enough money in my pocket, enough brain cells to keep my mind working, enough friends to keep me company, a stable enough job to keep me busy. But night life has other requirements that I feel I lack: a colorful wardrobe that screams I'm gay and loving it (mine is strictly tailored to suit the corporate world), a hot body to show off (I look like a stick beside those gymbuffs), and a gang of pink power friends shouting that there is strength in numbers! (I go with my bestfriend who would go flirt all over the dance floor in a way only he can.) And as I walk my way inside Bed, I can't help but feel that people are judging me and think that I do not belong. And when I'm finally inside. It feels like everyone knew everybody and I start to feel that I really don't belong.

I've had my share of fun nights at Bed. I was almost there every weekend when I was on my third year in college. I've hooked up with guys, got fished, danced with strangers, went down drunk, danced on the ledge and blew my week's allowance on cocktails and bottles of beer until my throat went sore from drinking, smoking and shouting (not singing) along with the music while pounding on the wooden ledges filled with guys taking their shirts off gyrating to the latest music dished out by Toy Armada while being photographed by Doc Tony. It's been crazy. It's been mad. It's been beautiful. But at a certain point the scene started to become alien to me. And so did the people. Maybe my priorities changed. Maybe my objectives changed. Maybe my point of view did. I started looking for love in the dancefloor. If I can't land a boy I wanted, I'd be depressed. But I'd still return the next weekend and look again. It became a vicious, pathetic cycle.

Finally I decided to stop and consider that I'm not getting anything good out of it anyway so I just quitted the scene altogether. Quit is actually an understatement. It was more like I vilified it and banished it into eternal damnation. Damn the scene and all the queeries involved in it. Sounds bitter, doesn't it?

So I found refuge in relationships, even if they did not last long. The scene is the last thing that I needed in the world. I have my love and that's all I ever needed. Until of course, they left me one after another. This is not about my sordid love affairs so I am not delving into the details of each one. Instead I'm talking about the one who made me see Malate in a new light.

He's not my boyfriend but we hold hands, hug each other and kiss when we feel like it. I also sleep with him, in both literal and figurative sense. I spend all my free minutes talking to him on the phone and we give a new meaning to the word txtnonstop. But when my friends or his ask if we're together, we'd hold hands, kiss, and say no, we're not. It's actually fun.

It's difficult to find words to describe us. I usually use the term special friend, and he would call me his date. We call each other babe and we agree to be date and consummate exclusively. Even sex is difficult. I don't like to call it "fuck" because we're not just fuck buddies (more like exclusive fuck buddies and constant date partners) and it's not yet "making love" so we compromised with "making like" however horribly dumb and stupidly pretentious it sounds.

He's Jake. He's from Los Angeles and he hasn't been around Manila. So I took him around to the Malate and Ermita district. Our first date was at the Manila Zoo, on the southern tip of Malate along Quirino. He wanted so much to see the gay district. So I took him to Orosa cor. Nakpil. It was a disappointment at daytime. We definitely had to visit one night.

I had second thoughts on this. Jake is uber cute and I am uber possessive. We might not survive the night without a big fight, a splash of vodka on his face, broken beer bottles and a very dramatic storming out scene fit for the next episode of The O.C. (or Bituing Walang Ningning). But I promised that we will go together since I will not let him go by himself and he wouldn't go in without me.

Last Saturday, I stepped out of the cab and my feet touched that holy ground of Orosa cor. Nakpil. I can feel the awesome energy climbing up my legs as flashes of triumphs, heartaches, friendships and enmity played up my imagination. I almost felt like kneeling down and offer a handful of lotus flowers and incense sticks. A prodigal son has become faithful again.

Not five minutes have passed when my diplomatic whore status has been re-affirmed. From behind us a white guy approached me and said hi. Never mind if I was with someone, white guys always seem to know how to get what they want. I didn't want to talk to him but being Filipino and civil, I didn't want them to think that Filipinos are not welcome and hospitable. Add to that the fact the Jake pushed me to entertain him. I was almost brimming with anger, feeling betrayed and pimped, but I had to keep a straight face. I even managed to smile.

Scott turned out to be a nice guy. He is very straight-forward. He is a flight attendant with Qantas and has a Filipino boyfriend who is working in Dubai. He treated us to pre-party drinks at O bar while Jake and I had a silent argument which we settled in the wash room. We kissed and made up (read: made out?) while i was styling his hair. How utterly gay.

Then Scott invited us to go to Bed with him. This was not part of the plan. We were just supposed to have some beer at O bar. I'm sure Jake wanted to go in as he has never been there ever. But I had this fear that he might end up dancing in the arms of someone else that night. He is a self-confessed flirt and I recognize that. But nothing of that sort happened that night. All that happened was hours and hours of pure fun.

Jake and I danced the night away with each other. It was really fun seeing him dance. He was so game. Well, no surprise in that because he is a dancer. And a singer. And an actor. A lot of guys came up to us to dance with us and not a few tried to kiss Jake, which was my cue to pull him back to me.

The most amusing encounter that night was with this gymbuff bald guy Leigh who danced with us and told us "Nakakainggit. I miss my ex. You're so sweet." We danced on the ledges and when we got tired he told us again how sweet we were and asked us if we were together and we said no, I, sitting on the ledge and Jake standing in front of me, my legs wrapped around his waist as we hug.

We made a few good friends among the people there and it was really quite a breath of fresh air having sanitized fun with PLU's. Later that morning, as we left, I got a friendly hug from Leigh, who reminded me to take care of Jake. And I promised I will. Leigh later texted Jake to take care and read his book.

I asked Jake if he had fun. He said he did and that he didn't expect that we would that long. He asked me if I had fun. This was the moment of truth. Did I have fun in Malate? Yes. I know I did.

He said he was sorry for the things that happened that night: when he pushed me to go with Scott, and when he flirted around. And I told him to let go of it. I had my most fun night in Malate ever and it was all because of him. And not to mention my best friend who tagged along with us the whole night and flirted with a record nine boys that night. He's hot.

As for me, I'd never see Malate the same way again. It's a place where I can be myself without fear of persecution or prejudice. Where the stares you get are out of respect and innocent envy, and not judgment and discrimination. Fly we now our rainbow flags.