Long time no blog...

Most people missed my last blog post because it didn't appear in the list of recent posts. That was a side effect of the delayed publication setting... There went another failed attempt at humour.

The highlight of the past two months is obviously my trip to the Philippines and my visit to John. The GA meetup in London was great too, but ... no offence to the nice peeps I saw or met there ... it could hardly compare.

So let's rewind to early August. The stakes were high when I took off from London because we had both invested quite a bit of energy, time, money, and emotions in the preparation for this visit. Some irreversible decisions had been taken. It is not my story to tell so I'll only mention that three weeks before my arrival John came out to his family and that the news were not adversely received.

The main goal of the trip was to finally meet John in real life and to spend some quality time together. I think we did all right on the main objective. At least, John did not run away screaming when he saw me. It was quite an emotional moment to finally be able to hold him in my arms, and gaze in his eyes.

Contrary to some of the teasing I was subjected to in London we didn't spend all our time in a hotel room. We visited places that John knew well, and others that we discovered together. So many things were new to me. I am no stranger to travelling: I have been to the US several times, to Latin America twice, and to several European countries, but this was my first time in Asia. There was obviously some culture shock, especially because, thanks to John, I was immersed into the Filipino culture. My experience would have been vastly different if I had spent all the time in a resort, cut off from the local population. Being a gay couple did not prove to be a problem there. I didn't feel that we were looked at or treated differently. The fact that I so obviously look like a Westerner may have played a role, I don't know...

The Philippines is a very striking country in that it appeasr both reassuringly familiar and utterly different. The language is no barrier: pretty much everyone speaks English. And even if I didn't understand Filipino, it includes many words of Spanish and English origin and uses the Latin alphabet, so there is always some degree of familiarity.

The landscapes didn't look like anything I had seen before, though some parts reminded me of the tropical forest surrounding the Iguazu Falls. I regret not wandering into rice fields on foot, but I got my fill of white sandy beaches, coral reef, and banana and palm tree plantations on Bohol Island. Manila is a world in itself, with its rush of people, the insane traffic, the heat and humidity. John had warned me about the poverty that I would not fail to witness, and indeed it was ever present. It was the first time that I was confronted to it on such a scale, apart from that one time when I got lost in the slums on the hills outside Acapulco. Anyway... I can't pretend to understand all the ins and outs of the economic and social situation of the country, so I won't dwell on that.

I think I adapted well to the local food, apart from a few items that were just way too strange. The culture is also a mix of Western and Asian influences so there is always an element that you can relate to. I think I need to visit another Asian country in order to get another point of reference for what life is in that part of the world.

After this short time together, we face the future on our own once again, but we are now looking in the same direction. We are aware of family and job commitments, and of the administrative obstacles which might prevent us from making a life together in the near future. However, we are both patient men, and we're in this together.

This new-found happiness sometimes brings memories of more ancient happy and unhappy times. I wrote part of the above in my note-book, while sitting on the imposing staircase which lies outside my former workplace and reflecting on how much my life has changed over the last 6 years. I used to sit there and cry when grief overwhelmed me and I didn't want to show my tear-streaked face to my co-workers. Mourning is a long process, which never really ends. It becomes part of you and leaves a scar. Most of the time, I forget about the scar, but sometimes it hurts a little. A few minutes ago, the radio started playing Pink Floyd's Wish you were here, which was played at my wife's funeral. And I shed a few tears, something I had not done for several months. At times, I feel fleeting pangs of guilt for embarking upon a new relationship, for leaving her behind... but that guilt does not last for long. As I wrote at the end of Through dark and cold seasons, she gave her blessings to the person I would love one day. She encouraged me to find a new love, and I have found it in John.