Saying the ‘L’ Word

The Jakarta Post   |  Tue, 03/11/2008 9:35 AM

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.

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