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"Why did I take this job?" "Why did I leave my country and come here?" "Why do I always put myself in situations where I am all alone in a room full of people?' "What's wrong with me?"
These were my thoughts sitting in my office cubicle. I'd applied for a job but didn't expect to be considered for it. At the time it just seemed like a challenge, something that seemed unlikely (even impossible) and I thought to mysel, "Why not?"
Now sitting in my cubicle all by myself, my family back in Africa and no friends in this new country where the locals didn't even speak English, I was having second thoughts.
At work, everyone was generally nice to me, said "hi", complimented how I look and occasionally asked me to join them for lunch and even invited me to house-parties. As is the case with many United Nations field offices where there are people from different countries and different religions, with different languages and different lifestyles etc. people tend to hang out with "their own". So even if you're asked out to lunch or to a house-party with a particular group, you always feel "alone" in a room of full of people.
My other problem is that I did not want to spend all my money on lunches in expensive restaurants or house parties when the real reason I took the job was so I could save that money. One lunch bill could send one African child to school for a year!!!
Being such a "cheap bore", I found myself all alone most of the time. Then one day someone knocked on my door. "Hi there!" he walked in cheerfully, "I'm here to take you out of your misery. Get dressed and let's get out of here!"
I'd seen this guy at work so many times, exchanged many "hi there" but never really paid much attention to him other than be mildly amused by his "mannerisms".
Raised a Christian of Anglican Faith (Church of England) who went to a Catholic Missionary High School, I was as homophobic as they come. As far as I was concerned, homosexuality was a sin and homosexuals were lecherous men who can't control their sexual urges. Lesbians on the other hand were women with "man issues". I'd never even met a gay person (one who said he was) in person. I had my mind made up because "the Bible said" homosexuality is a sin.
In Uganda, like in many African countries "we don't have homosexuals" (so we tell ourselves). I'd worked in other diplomatic missions and international development agencies and heard rumours about foreign expatriates who hang out in certain "questionable bars and restaurants" but no one ever proved anything.
Some of those foreign expatriates were my friends. I didn't mind being "friends" with them because in the international foreign policy/development environment it's very cool to be seen as "embracing diversity". It didn't matter that you privately did or did not, you just had to pretend so no one looks at you funny. So like everyone else I pretended to embrace my rumoured to be homosexual "friends". I never asked questions because I wasn't interested in getting to know them or be "real friends" with homosexuals.
I remember driving hundreds of miles across Uganda or Kenya countrysides monitoring and evaluating Canada-funded rural projects with some of my Canadian and local colleagues and being so loudly judgemental. "Whichever way you see it, homosexuality is a pain in the arse" was one of my favourite punch lines. I'd get so vocally passionate (almost to tears) if anyone defended homosexuals in any way. It wasn't personal, I told everyone, it's just that I am a Christian and "the Bible is clear" about homosexuality and homosexuals.
He probably sensed my thoughts because he said "I'm gay and I'm not taking "no" for an answer".
The remaining few weeks of my contract are some of the happiest times in my life. For the first time since coming to this new country, someone was talking to me like a friend. He asked personal questions about me, about my family, about my childhood, what's like to grow up in Africa, what plans I had for the future, what colours I like, what food I cook... he asked about everything. My other colleagues at work had been polite and courteous but I never really felt anyone cared about "who I really was". Him, he wanted to know me as a human being with dreams, fears, strengths, weaknesses etc.
He introduced me to places I could buy things "cheaper" so I could save money. He taught me how to dress fabulous without spending a fortune. He took me to parks, museums and art galleries I'd have never gone on my own. He even encouraged me to develop my painting skills and if he thought my painting wasn't up to "standard", he'd tell it to me like it is.
We laughed together, danced together, and at times cried together. I felt someone truly cared. I wasn't alone and lonely anymore!
"What brought you to my door that day? I asked him one day.
"I don't know. I'd watched you for a few weeks and just thought you needed a friend".
"I too have been watching you these last few weeks and everywhere we go and everyone we meet, you always seem to know exactly how others feel and respond with the right kind words."
"I'm gay", he said with a faraway look in his eyes sort of gazing into the infinite unknown horizon.
Looking at him that way, I knew in that instant that I had been mis-educated about gays and lesbians and God had used a gay man to teach me something about the true meaning of love.
My head turned to the infinite unknown horizon my friend was gazing at, tears in my eyes, I whispered "Thank you, Lord. Thank you".
Au revoir! It's been an interesting journey. Merci.
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