I left Bangladesh, the country of my birth, when I was 18. I’m gay, and I don’t plan to live there again. Same-sex sexual activity is criminalized. As recently as 2014, Bangladesh’s Permanent Representative to the UN went on record saying that providing rights for lesbian and gay people went “against our values.” On April 25, 2016, Xulhaz Mannan, a prominent LGBT rights activist, was hacked to death in his apartment by members of a group affiliated with Al-Qaeda.
But that’s not the only side of the story. The few gay Bangladeshis that I know who live in the country never fail to remind me that, though same-sex sexual activity is illegal, this is rarely enforced. As long as you follow the unwritten rules, you can live your life in peace.
One year after Xulhaz’s murder, I’m finding out how LGBT Bangladeshis express their sexual identities at home and abroad. How do they live, and how do they love? Each piece in this series will revolve around an interview with a different person.
For my second interview, I spoke with Fahad*, who is currently living in Bangkok and painting the city red.
Interview 2: Happy Thai New Year!
Speaking to me on the phone from Thailand, Fahad* discloses his two wishes for life. “I just want to stay hot and have money. If you have those two things, you have everything.” I don’t believe him, but I play along. Talk of finding true love and starting a family might have figured in this conversation a few years ago, but no longer. He’s been married (to a man) and divorced already. I probe for details on the marriage, but he would rather not talk about it.
Fahad and I share mutual friends and have met a few times before. A bulk of what I know about him comes from his Facebook profile. For example, I know that he is in stellar shape. Glamor shots adorn his Facebook page. A few photos of him lounging in a pool, a couple of him taking a shower, one of him cupping a woman’s breasts in a way that reminds me of Janet Jackson’s iconic Rolling Stones cover. But he isn’t a professional model. These photos were taken by aspiring photographer-friends of his.
Tomorrow, the day after we’re speaking, is Thai New Year, which coincides with the Water Festival. One of the traditions this day is to pour water on Buddha statues and elders to wash away bad luck. Many people, especially the youth, also celebrate by mercilessly splashing each other with water. Though the festival isn’t until tomorrow, Fahad informs me that, on Gay Street in Bangkok, the water fights begin tonight. As the owner of several water guns, he is in high demand. (Stores hike prices at this time of year since they know no one dares to go outside without one.) His friends come over to inspect his guns while he is talking to me, and he takes quick breaks from our conversation to bark orders at them.
Photo of Fahad taken in Koh Chang, Thailand in 2016
He regales me with his misadventures as a single, coveted, party-loving, gay man in Bangkok. His policy nowadays is to have trysts with tourists only because if things go south, the guy will be gone in a few days, and there won’t be any longer-term bad blood to reckon with. Fortunately for him, there seems to be an endless supply of gay tourists passing through Bangkok year-round. He tells me about a false alarm that resulted from a particularly torrid affair with a seemingly sweet but completely untrustworthy German. Long story short, he is now on PrEP, a daily pill that significantly reduces one’s chances of contracting HIV.
As I listen to Fahad talk about his sexually uninhibited life, it strikes me that his existence is as unfettered as those of the poster boys of Fire Island or the Castro. He is so cheerful and comfortable in his skin during our call that I forget, for a moment, that he grew up in Bangladesh as I did. But then he tells me that just over a decade ago, when he first realized he was gay, he was depressed for several years. I remind myself that this is a common narrative among countless well-functioning, content gay men in their 30s today, even those who grew up in liberal Western societies.
Fahad says he loves Bangladesh. To put it more accurately, he loves visiting Bangladesh, but he wouldn’t want to live there. And it’s not only because he’s gay. He has mostly lived abroad since he was 18 and is used to a degree of freedom and anonymity that just wouldn’t be possible there, whether gay or straight. He tells me how his relatives, who he is not explicitly out to, tricked him into meeting a woman they wanted him to marry. Fahad does not mince his words if he is upset with you, and he did not hold back with them. Needless to say, they haven’t tried to set him up with anyone since.
When Fahad arrived in Canada for college, he had just ended a relationship with a girl and wasn’t fully out to himself. He didn’t know that gay clubs existed. He had no idea what a top or bottom was. His first sexual encounter with a man was far from his best. The man somehow found him on the then-popular social networking website Hi5 and kept complimenting him on his photos. Fahad eventually agreed to go on a date with him. He turned out to be 20 years older than advertised. When he invited Fahad back to his apartment to “watch a movie,” Fahad was hesitant because he suspected that they would do more, but his excitement at the prospect of a sexual encounter with a man won out. He doesn’t go into the details of what happened, only saying the experience was simultaneously pleasurable and repugnant.
As the realization that he was gay set in, he became increasingly ashamed and depressed. He went to his college psychiatrist and begged him to “fix me. I’m from Bangladesh.” When he came out to his brother a few years later, he stopped talking to Fahad for two years. Finally, Fahad gave him the DVD of "Jihad for Love", a documentary that explores the lives of gay Muslim men in 12 countries. He told him, “If you’re my brother, you’re going to watch this movie.” He says their relationship really improved after that.
Fahad, was visiting Dhaka for his job when Xulhaz Mannan was killed in April last year. A friend texted him the news before the media broke the story. “The whole gay rights movement, whatever there was, we went back 20 years. All the get-togethers, house parties, they all completely stopped for a while.”
As the situation deteriorated, most people went underground, but a select few became exceedingly vocal. They confounded Fahad. “All rainbow flags and shit. Your brains are washed with Western media. You think you can protest in Bangladesh? Well, you can’t. If you die, no one will do anything. The government will do nothing to protect you.” Fifty years from now, when Bangladesh has hopefully progressed on the gay rights front, Xulhaz will be remembered as our “Harvey Milk,” Fahad tells me. For now, though, gay rights activists in Bangladesh should “just shut the fuck up.” He clarifies that he says this out of concern for their safety. He is a gradualist and believes that activists should lay low during this religiously conservative spell that Bangladesh is going through.
I’m entranced by his Facebook photos and want to know the stories behind each. As he explains, we come to a side shot of him that he says is his favorite. The photo defines his Bangkok life completely. In his words: “risky, on the edge, hardcore, kind of sexy.”
He is on the right-hand side of the frame, perched on the railing of the roof of a high-rise building. The bottoms of his feet are at a precarious angle against the edge of the roof. His body is arched away from the building as far as it can go, and his arms reach back, palms gripping the top of the railing. He is wearing only a pair of block-print, drawstring pajamas. His muscles ripple across the side of his torso. It’s a clear day, with white clouds and the Bangkok skyline stretching out before him. His face looks upward. Eyes closed, he wears a serene expression. A high diver in the final moments before taking flight.
*Name has been changed
Hamid is an HR professional by day. When not gossiping with friends, he can be found binge-watching obscure interviews of his favorite writers on YouTube. He is always interested.