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Boys will be Boys: Stories from Lebanon, Syria & Pakistan

I have travelled around the world at least four times in my life so far, and have met many people and enjoyed many experiences along the way. Although cultures, religious beliefs, different politics and a plethora of many possible options could occur which would attempt to “separate”, I believe that, in most cases, when guys bond closely together, there aren’t many boundaries any longer and as the two sayings have it, ” people are people,” and, in many cases, “boys will be boys.” I personally concur most on the boys will be boys bit.

Lebanon

I stayed in a Beirut Christian neighbourhood called “Ashrafieh” with my Lebanese friend who was of the Druze faith. We all piled into a car with his Christian boyfriend and also with two Muslim guys, one who was a true “diva”, and went to a beach in South Lebanon, not far from the border with Israel, in Hesbollah controlled lands. We enjoyed and laughed together like a boy family. We reached a road check where there were two handsome guards who demanded our IDs. All around us were Hesbollah flags and also Iranian flags. Posters of Ayatollah looking guys, and Hassan Nusrallah were pasted in prominent places.

Imagine the faces of the two handsome guards as a bunch of guys dressed ready for the beach, and a “diva” all sashaying out of the car, each showing some kind of ID, (until my “Hawaii” ID was shown which I knew he couldn’t read). Anyway, we thoroughly enjoyed our swim, as ostentatious at times, as our “diva” had a bath towel around his head and had a collection of “Clinique” products lined up on the beach table, spraying and trying them out on us.

Due to the character of Lebanon with all the precarious political, geographical and social digressions which keep the region rather unstable, the people have, in my feeling, a fatalistic attitude in which they try to live their lives to the fullest; no matter what had happened in the past, nor what might be happening at the moment, nor what might possibly happen in the future. I also embrace this attitude myself which, I suppose, makes me feel a bit Lebanese myself.

Damascus, Syria

Some years ago, I took a Turkish bus from Istanbul through Turkey to the Syrian capital Damascus. I was going to stay with my Syrian friend Abdul at his family’s private home. I met on the bus along the way two Jordanian guys who were also travelling to Damascus and later back home. Arriving in Damascus at 0300 in the morning, we all rented a flat for the day and night. I vividly recall the posters of Ayatollah Khomeini pasted on the walls and graffiti which read, “we will cut off the hand that feeds Israel” (the hand being the USA). I recall enjoying with my Jordanian friends the best tasting falafel ever, and wandering around the old city. The next morning my Jordanian friends continued the journey home and I went to see my friend Abdul. He lived in a traditional Syrian home and I experienced wonderful hospitality, as well as meeting his friends who lived in the small winding back alley ways where small shops were also hidden. When night came and it was time to go to sleep, we all climbed in and all shared one bed together. I remember so vividly how comforting and wonderful that experience was, just to have guys on each side of me in bed that I slept very well.

Unfortunately, Syria is currently experiencing horrible civil unrest and destruction. My heart aches badly for Syria and Syrian people. I wonder what my friend Abdul’s life is like now and if he is safe. I pray that peace will come to Syria and that the Syrian people will be free—NOW!

Rawalpindi-Islamabad, Pakistan

When my friends came to know of my trip to Pakistan they warned me about an “eye opening experience”. They were absolutely correct! I was a guest of my Pakistani friend Hamid and stayed with him in the male part of his Pakistani home, where he was a gracious host. Together we went around on an adventure experiencing truly wonderful local food like “kulcha” and “chaat”—a savoury spicy pastry which is eaten in Chaat shops, dizzying rides around lively cities like Rawalpindi and Lahore which I love, and a mysterious feeling frontier town, Peshawar. Near Peshawar I saw the madrasa where the Taliban were training in, and I stayed in an ominous feeling hotel where there were only men, and shared a pepsi and conversation with an Afghan businessman and his very flirty male assistant.

An exciting evening in busy and lively Lahore, my friend and I shared a rickshaw where the driver’s skills were so awful that we felt like we were on a ride in an amusement park. Going at dizzing speeds and swerving each way, our rickshaw had a near hair-raising collision, with us sitting right at the front. I truly let out a loud scream which blended in with the rest of the din of other vehicles and city sounds as our rickshaw just missed hitting the one in front of us, with that passenger being a very handsome looking man smiling and laughing when seeing me scream. Flirting with us and us with him, he convinced my friend Hamid and I to stay overnight with him at his friends nursery school. It was the first time I ever negotiated a space with crayons and school tablets, having a guys slumber party together! I absolutely want to return and experience different regions of Pakistan to meet more beautiful and kind Pakistani guys again.

About the author

Jim is the author of Vagaybond.com. Vagaybond travel journeys show you the extraordinary lives of our gay community, their supportive family and friends with blog highlights about culture, food, drink and experiences that celebrate life.

Halle, Germany: Experiencing Life in a Baroque Town

I had a six month living experience in Halle, Germany. Halle is a town in the former DDR, German Democratic Republic near Leipzig and just a few hour train ride from Berlin. I had a freelance job teaching English as a Second Language position here. I had been in the DDR when it was still divided from West Germany, and in the Checkpoint Charlie days. I was curious to see how and if there had been changes since the wall came down.

Halle is a town famous for the birthplace of Handel, the great Baroque composer. Wandering through the old town and the narrow streets in Halle puts one in the mood for Baroque. There is a music festival in Halle, but the cost for that festival was unfortunately above my budget.

I rented a cozy room about a half hour walk from the school, which had a bathroom with modern fixtures, and a small kitchen which was fully furnished with pots, pans, cutlery, and the like. Upstairs was my colleague from Brno, Czech Republic who also taught at the same school I did, and a bunch of guys, which I gathered due to the licence plate on their lorry that they were from Belarus, sharing the basement below. A heavy cigarette cloud always bellowed near and around their door.

In my classes I had the responsibility to teach the “arbeitsamt” clients, those who were preparing to return to the work force after being unemployed, and realise they needed English for their new job.

I had a group of three students who were over 60 years old for English conversation. The class was 4 hours a few times a week. After the second class they always managed to bring in a bottle of nice champagne and a nice chocolate ( they learned that I could easily be bribed using any form of chocolate, and it worked!) cake or other kinds of nice cakes. Those were the most fun and memorable classes! The champagne improved their English conversation as well as my classroom presence for each class and the four hours flew by quickly each time. I had a 60 year old German man dancing around the room showing air guitar gestures, and one 60 year old having a conversation with another 60 plus student continuously asking the question: “How long have you been wearing that wonder-bra?” Many times it was so challenging to keep a straight face in those classes with them.

Another class I had with a young woman who had an ambition to open a new wine shop in Leipzig had to make a presentation in English about her new wine shop. She brought in many bottles of wine to demonstrate the different kinds of wines she might be selling. She had a wonderful presentation and all of us ended up floating out of the classroom that day, luckily it being my final class for the day!

As far as meeting other guys while living in Halle, Germany…I had only a few special friends. I met one German man (his name will be kept anonymous!) who came to my flat from time to time. He was not a student of mine but I became a student of his rather.

His father was a pastor of some church, and he found it horrible that I was so ignorant of the Bible, and I had to learn the writers of the Bible and the different chapters of the Bible in order, and for each time I had the chapter wrong I would get a spanking. We were having wine so I agreed to play this fun game.

Not having a good knowledge of the Bible, I had been over his lap, and my pants, then undershorts, down to my bare, stinging red behind knowing the shape of that guy’s hand! This man was my only local friend apart from my Czech colleagues from Brno living upstairs from me, A bible study group I went to from time to time (no this group didn’t spank me!) and a nice Syrian man whom I had met and went out for coffee a few times with.

I had a ritual of my own which I would on Sunday morning, wander through the old part of the town to a small cafe where I would have a hot coffee and chose a different cake, and join mostly elderly folk out to the outdoor tables to watch pedestrians, or when raining, a place in a booth inside the cafe somewhere.

In my opinion, from my experiences and observations, although Germany is reunited and socialist rule is gone from the Eastern half, the scars of the past are still visible. Many abandoned buildings and homes, high unemployment, and I felt that the locals were more standoff, suspicious, avoiding eye contact, and very much frosty shall I say, than their Western German sibling. I hope as the two societies continue to melt into one that the life in the Eastern part of country which I had called “home” for a while would see more sunshine and smiles!

About the author

Morocco: An experience at the local hamam

I have been told that most Moroccan homes do not have facilities to take a bath or a shower hence the delightfully ubiquitous Hamam—or bath house. These places are segregated for men and women and are places for people to take a refreshing bath and massage. What a wonderful experience! I had some experience when I was in Istanbul so I had somewhat of an idea on what to do, but the massage was the highlight! I was first scrubbed down by a Moroccan man, who spoke only Moroccan Arabic, so even my rusty Middle Eastern Arabic was an intercultural challenge. He started using a rough mitt, then soaped up and rinsed my body off and this happened twice. This man then grabbed a hold of me, and using his feet, legs, strong arms and body, which he twisted and turned, as well as vigorously massage my body—making me feel at first like a pretzel, but later invigorated and a “new person”.

I went to another more stylish and fancy hamam in Casablanca (It was located on some small narrow alley) which really resembled the Turkish style in Istanbul. Entering the place made me think I was set back into another era in the Ottoman Oriental days of Ali Baba. It was decorated with mosaic walls,a marble counter which I had to lie on top of, this time with a towel covering my waist, while a man dressed in a kind of “Ali Baba” uniform with sleeveless shirt, also speaking only Moroccan Arabic, gave me a total scrub down (he even showed me the disgusting dead cells, dirt and muck being rolled off my skin!). He surreptitiously slipped his hand under my towel to briefly scrub and wash my hidden parts of my body, and then he soaped me up and washed me down with water. I went into the steam room which resembled an old Ottoman style “Hamami” with marble basins filled with warm water in which you scoop out water and pour over yourself and enjoy the steam (just like the Italian/ Turkish movie “STEAM”) The humidity in the room was thick and at times difficult to breathe. After I finished I was sent into a room which felt like it transported me back centuries ago, to rest on some lounge chairs to recover from all the energy, steam and attention my body had during that hour. It was really worth the experience!

Have you visited other Hammams in the Arab world or Middle East. What was your experience?

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Budapest: Soaking it up in Kiraly Spa

The Kiraly Baths are a fun spa which reminded me so much of ones in Istanbul but soaking instead of sweating. Kiraly was built during the Ottoman occupation of Budapest sometime in the 1500s and the environment in the spa conjures up notions of how it might have been as traditions in bathing couldn’t have changed that much. The pool looks authentic with its octagon shape. The roof over the baths was traditional dome shaped and was very old looking!

Saturday at Kiraly was men’s day, so I was having a soak with so many men of all ages, shapes and sizes. It was a real male bonding experience. An attendant shows you to a small changing room which has no lock. Once you are wearing your swim shorts, he assists you to the baths area. There is one which has high humidity in the air and the water is a murky brown, probably quite healthy with lots of minerals like magnesium and calcium and the like. Lots of guys were getting in and out of the water. Outside this area is a cool water pool but not many people were in that.

I crawled into the murky brown warm water and instantly relaxed. Guys next to me smiled, and I felt a finger or two from another direction touch me. I nonchalantly moved around the bathing area, and found myself in a group of men speaking together in a deep conversation in what I presumed was Hungarian. I instantly felt fingers going around my waist and tugging down my swim shorts and groping all around me! I turned around and saw smiling and laughing guys, I also smiled and laughed and gestured politely, “no no no” shaking my head shyly and moved to another area.

I decided to leave when it was time to go out and look for something to eat for dinner. My body felt relaxed and Ottomanised!

I wish was born in the Ottoman era.