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21 Feb 2002

matchmaking hell

Match-making for gay men by gay men is the undisputed national pastime in Manila. Our regular columnist, Glenn Chua, places himself at the mercy of his well-meaning gay friends and emerges pleasantly surprised at how such a session turned out for the better.

I attended one of the oddest party a couple of days ago. Not odd in the sense that it was strange, just somewhat... complicated.

A few days prior, I'd been told that we'd have a gay gathering, just a small group of friends, yada yada yada.

So there I was, sipping my wine at the party, rubbing knees with the guy being matchmade with me. Across the room, two other guests were being paired off. Sounds perfectly normal, right? Not really. The whole thing felt rather odd to me. Not odd-strange, just kinda... odd-complicated. Several of us there had been sexual partners at some time or another, two had been making overtures to me for some time, and one was being set up with me.

From the two making overtures, one had shared the bed of someone else at the party (his current lover not being aware of this). Almost all the other guests had been emotionally or sexually entangled with one another in the past, as well.

Straight people have love triangles. Gay people have pentagrams.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that these people were happily jumping out of each other's beds and changing partners more often than underwear. The ironic fact is, they were all trying to find real love and a long term commitment. It's just that they couldn't find the right one. So, if one prospect didn't work out, pass him on to a friend. This happens a lot. Particularly in Manila, where matchmaking seems to be a prime hobby of many.

For many people here, life without an LTR is akin to purgatory - neither heaven nor hell, just an odd state in between. The moment one's friends hear of a failed courtship or relationship, they immediately begin scheming and plotting your next date. Not that that's a bad thing. But given that the Manila gay crowd tends to know each other fairly well, you sometimes wonder if you're gonna be set up with someone you already know. Or worse, an ex-boyfriend. Or a relative (happened to me once).

Now, this holds true for many other cities as well. Real, lasting love is the Holy Grail for most gay men. One dreads growing old and ugly, and being known by name at gay strip bars and massage joints, paying for the fleeting illusion of affection. But in Manila, one sometimes gets the feeling that finding "the One" overshadows everything else with a desperation that is both sad and amusing at times. We've been brought up in a culture where marriage is sacrosanct, and where being "with" someone is seen as the ideal state.

For some, not being in a relationship equates with an utterly miserable existence. Blame the movies and television.

In a country where people follow celebrity romances (real or otherwise) with a passion close to religion, it's simply bad form to be uninvolved.
On the other hand, it's not all bad. I've heard or found more incidences here of relationships lasting 10 years or more, than any other countries in the region. Part of it is because people here tend to look at the person more than just his abs.

Good conversation still has a higher value than a good workout routine. But part of it is also a real drive to make a relationship work. One person I spoke to longingly told me he wished he could experience it - as if being with someone over a decade was the Oscar Award of gay life.

You can imagine how unsettling all of this is to someone like me, who prefers life single and uncomplicated. But I'm getting used to it. It's a little pleasant to start dating again, and to enjoy the scene after being away for so long.

After all, I might as well make full use of my "fresh meat" status, right? At the party, once we'd gotten over the food, gossip, present opening, kissing games and teasing etc., we decided to head out for some entertainment. So, of course, we eventually ended up at a strip bar where we happily ogled at various parts of male anatomy the whole night.

Unfortunately, the strip bar was having some sort of talent competition where one neanderthal wannabe bit off the head of a chicken. Kinda put a damper on any passion for the night, to say the least.

At the end of the evening, as we were bidding our goodbyes, I was a little startled when one of the guys being paired off casually invited me to share a drink at his place sometime.

A little suspicious but wanting to be gracious, I casually agreed. The next morning I was receiving SMS messages from him, and he admitted weaselling my number out from another friend. Surprise, surprise.

Philippines

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