Revolution, evolution, disillusionment – a reflection on the gay community

I was fortunate to attend a glitterati event recently as a VIP guest and saw some local “people-who-appear-on-TV.” To call them celebrities would be a hyperbolic statement. So this person stands next to me with attaché scouring the territory for the meat of the day that will probably be flaunted on the show in a couple of weeks. I will rather not reveal identities or any cues but luckily I do not know the person personally.

Some few metres away stood a couple of Afrikaans gays. They aren’t hard to spot. Actually they were all around so I looked around for a more diverse table and sat at an ethnically mixed table. I think I have more in common with the two ladies and the affable Jozi-native Anglo-Saxon guy. I loathe labelling race ergo going about the issue stealthily.

I heard in the distance: “Vrouuuuu, vat dit jou soooo lank om jou bolla te klits?”

I just chuckled discreetly. For those who do not understand, it is Afrikaans gay lingo translating to: Woman, does it take you so long to do your hair?

I have always been bemused and amused by gay lingo. I wonder about aetiology. Some of the words are strange derivatives of Afrikaans or English and even a confluence. I wonder why this patois is being used. Is it still relevant?

I understand that in the past it would have been an identifier or used to make a statement in a defiant kind of way towards the status quo of the time. I just do not think it serves any purpose at the moment. I find it both funny and annoying.

Okay, we are now more or less equal citizens of Afrique du Sud and although while Zuma and his god squad are plotting their next move to stymie equality and rescind same-sex marriage we live in probably the most progressive country in the world. That is for now.

The revolution came in the guise of act 108 of 1996 better known as the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa and further statutes such as the Promotion of Equality and Prevention of Unfair Discrimination Act, Act 4 of 2000. The legal foundations were in place alas our dear society is socially conservative and thus in my humble opinion a tad bit backwards.

The evolution came in the “normalisation” of homosexuality. This is open to all kinds of interpretation but refers here to urban society’s acceptance of the LGBTIQ community in some way, be it nonchalance or earnest acceptance and lack of prejudice. Marriage of course being the bastion of heterosexual culture was imported in gay culture as well post-2006. In a sense, mainly in large urban areas, attitudes changed and the gay population was accepted.

The disillusionment came with the post-Apartheid era newbie gays. Nonchalant is a euphemism, I doubt they know the aetiology and even less probably the meaning. Having already written Mean Girls the Gay Phenomenon dealing with the Lindsay Lohan wannabes in our little community I think after some introspection I can declare that I am not especially proud to be associated with most of the gay population.

I have not seen such sheer shameless ignorance in a population as in our dear newly beleaguered one. I am by self-association also one of the post-Apartheid gays as I was 12 years old when Nelson Mandela was elected our first democratically elected president. Yet I harbour an entirely different set of core values.

On 24 September 2009 a guy decided to slate the Joburg Pride board and its involvement with its media sponsor: 94.7 Highveld. The storm in the teacup proved rather more annoying than flustering. Do we really need infighting in our little community? Methinks we can hardly afford it being a soft target.

Another insolent and disturbed human slated another organisation wantonly. Said organisation is one of the few in this country that fights tooth and nail for continued equality and raising public awareness regarding issues that directly affect us as a community. The utterly nonsensical and profane comment was left without a second thought, without taking into consideration that some of “those” people actually dedicate their existence to the betterment of not only themselves but other victimised people as well. So much for empathy, and so much for common decency...

The ignorant amongst us often attack others for being vigilant. Ignorance is bliss indeed and it would take a serious rattle of their cages to get them out of the grip of indifference and self-centredness. Alas I am afraid then it will be too late to salvage what we might have left.

I was horribly shocked in 2008 when an LGBT Internet news service ran a poll just before Joburg Pride and the vast majority rated that the raison d’être of Pride is the after parties. Have we become so apathetic and complacent that we do not care to know our own history and celebrate it? Are we so cosy that we could not care less about current affairs or politics?

Some are so uninformed as to believe that laws are written in stone. All the while we bask in nonchalance the religious right is rallying and gaining an enormous velocity. One has only to look at Uganda and its ties with the U.S. religious right to get a sense of what is quietly happening. Make no mistake, we are all but immune – look at Errol Naidoo and his crusades against the Pink Loerie. Tip of the iceberg...

Alanis Morissette’s 1995 song Wake up (Jagged Little Pill) has a memorable verse applicable to this specific matter: “There's an obvious attraction to the path of least resistance in your life. There's an obvious aversion no amount of my insistence could make you try tonight.”

The disillusionment makes one wonder why we are putting our wellbeing at risk for those who frankly do not deserve an inkling of sympathy. Or am I being harsh?

“Die Beloofde Land” – my little gripe

I arrived a wide eyed young adult in Pretoria in 2001 and commenced studies at the University of Pretoria. I was of course inducted in the crowd of instant liberals who defied the culture of the heteronormative. I quickly examined and experienced the prevailing culture in the city. In retrospect I see it as a large Afrikaans colony and maybe this has lead to the topic. I am happy to report that I no longer reside there, but I did long enough to know its ins and outs.

I started jokingly calling the New East of Pretoria “Die Beloofde Land” as a mass exodus happened de rigueur as the former Old East residents crossed the N1 Eastern Bypass to get to the land of the Fake and the Conservative – the sad substitutes of the proverbial Milk and Honey. The areas of Lynnwood, Brooklyn and Waterkloof became inhabited with foreigners (Pretoria has purportedly the most embassies second to Washington DC) and of course the massive influx of the new so-called “Black Diamonds” ensued. I hate that term and see it as patronising but had to refer to the demographic to demonstrate my point.

Sarah Britten wrote about the great “Northern Wastelands” of Johannesburg in her brilliant article called “Why oh why do I hate Fourways so?” She examines the total dishonesty of the architecture in said area and rightfully states that there is nothing authentic about it, nothing. Some comments on said article were priceless, especially this one: “aaah Fourways, where architecture and good taste went to die.”

I have heard many an affluent from the Old North in Jozi referring to the “Tuscan slums” of the “Northern Wastelands”. A friend of mine claims that he actually coined the phrase “Northern Wastelands”. Nevertheless, “Die Beloofde Land” is Pretoria’s quaint yet much stuffier version of the “Northern Wastelands”. I herewith bestow ownership of that geographical parody of a name (“Die Beloofde Land”) upon myself before some shrewd competitor uses it.

The east of Pretoria has expanded so much that the Netcare Pretoria East Hospital (well, almost everything east of Hans Strijdom Road) is not technically in Pretoria anymore but part of the Kungwini Municipality of Bronkhorstspruit, now part of the greater Metsweding Municipality. This is a rather sizeable area which consists of the “Tuscan slums” of Silver Lakes, Woodhill and the plethora of others to the really far east.

Now to tackle the horrid architecture, first my little preamble - I am a philosophical contradiction in terms as I fervently dislike postmodern architecture but concur with postmodern philosophy however chaotic, contradictory and futile people may view the philosophy of Derrida et al. I think I have read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead too many times than I would like to admit.

I drove through “Die Beloofde Land” recently and it has expanded even more since I left the city four years ago. It is LA-esque in the sense that it is a vast expanse of utterly depressing monotonous prêt-à-porter housing developments for the average Afrikaans young professional. There are endless theme parks of cluster homes, townhouses and duplexes all dull as hell. Then there’s the “esteemed” golf estates which are in effect just oversized versions of the theme park housing developments. I wonder if this is just lingering Pandemic 2009 Influenza A(H1N1) “swine flu” delirium, alas it is not. That place is just plain disgusting. I wonder what European tourists must think when they see this smite-inducing manifestation of our beleaguered Zeitgeist. The unfathomable and flabbergasting part was that I saw a KFC with a Tuscan roof! Now, do you get anything more deranged than that?

If Ayn Rand had to witness what I have she would have had an instant aneurism. What happened to decent Modernist architecture? Who do we have to blame, the calculative architects or their equally deranged clients?

A prominent radio personality has said that you can build a wall around Pretoria and charge people money to the entrance of the theme park. I must concur with that sentiment.

If “Die Beloofde Land” is a manifestation of the prevailing spirit and core philosophy of its inhabitants I cannot help but to feel very sorry for them and now I understand why half of them are on antidepressants and tranquilisers in any way. If you want to peek into the dysfunctional East take a trip to Denmar Psychiatric Hospital in Garsfontein where I guess most of the delusional and despondent end up.

The disillusionment and cognitive dissonance is nothing new; I guess the Uhuru-mongering conservative populous just suffers more from the emancipation of the new South Africa. It must be very hard to live without nationalist demagogues telling you what to do with your life, what to think and sans the indoctrination of your children. Poor souls, keep taking those Prozac. If they keep on migrating east soon they will end up in Mozambique.

Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead (The Bends, 1995, Parlophone/Capitol) is a poignant narrative of disillusionment and a sad reflection of our disposable consumer culture. It is also an apt analogy describing this uniquely South African context.