GAY RIGHTS IN TONDO

By Philip M. Lustre jr.

The assertion and exercise of gay rights could have started in Manila's biggest district - Tondo, the same place that saw the birth of Katipunan, the secret society that led the 1896 Philippine Revolution against Spain.

I was a gangling 17 year old first year college student when my family transferred to a modest house in the sub-district of Gagalangin in Tondo in 1971. Our change of residence is not the story, but my exposure to the liberal side of Tondo.

Incidentally, Tondo did not only produce the revolutionaries that led the 1986 Philippine Revolution. It was - and had always been - the place that nurtured the working class since it hosted a number of factories during the American colonial rule and the early postwar era.

The old Partido Komunista ng Pilipinas (PKP) held its founding public rally in 1930 at Plaza Moriones, a seaside plaza near the fabled Sto. Nino Church. The PKP rally turned violent, as the American colonial government used water cannons to disperse thousands of workers, who joined it.

I immediately sensed the liberal tendencies of this historic place, when I first saw in 1971 the gay parties, dubbed as "sayawan ng mga bakla," in an inner cranny of Gagalangin. They held those dance parties in a vacant cemented lot in Pagasa Street, which athletic residents used as handball field during daytime. 

Months later, I watched with a combined youthful sense of bewilderment and amusement a "santakrusan," where cross-dressing gays in colorful garbs paraded publicly as "zagalas" with their toy boys as consorts. 

The Gagalangin Parish Church theoretically disagreed with this practice, branding it as a form of sacrilege, but the santakrusan was tolerated because it was peaceful and basically entertaining. 

I did not have any understanding of the concept of gay rights because I was quite young during those days. But watching how those gays had expressed themselves has left a lasting impression in my young mind.

Gays held their dance parties on Fridays, twice a month. Attending gays and their male escorts paid at least five pesos each for the ticket. The dance parties were dimly lit, but onlookers could freely ogle at those crossdressing gays, who came from various places in Metro Manila. 

I had the impression that even during those days, the gays had their own networks, enabling them to freely communicate, share, and join in every activity participated by gays.

The dance parties usually started at around 8 pm and lasted a little after midnight. Curious onlookers like me freely milled in the area. We were tolerated so long as did not create troubles.

We knew a number of those gays in those sayawan ng mga bakla. They included the likes of Sandra and Josie, two successful proprietors of beauty shops bearing their names in Gagalangin.

Party organizers used a sound system comprising of two big baffles which delivered eardrum splitting dance music. At intermission, they served platefuls of spaghetti and glasses of orange or pineapple juice for party goers.

But what impressed me during those days were the colorful dresses, which the gays took time to create and embellish. They were not necessarily expensive; in fact, they were cheap. But they were certainly works of art.

Their male companions dressed decently. It was their practice to make public their conquests; those toy boys served as their trophies. 

During those days, we did not call them "boylets." We called them "kabit ng bakla," quite a disparaging appellation.

Their santakrusan was a once a year affair, usually held either in May or June. Just like in their dance parties, those gays made extensive preparations to project lasting impressions on their creativity. "Ginagayakan (they truly prepare)," we would say during those days.

Just like those dance parties, the zagala gays came from different parts of Metro Manila. Gagalangin residents watched them in awe, as they took to the streets. I was told that they until now they have this annual santakrusan.

I wonder if those gay dance parties and santakrusans were held in some nooks and crannies in Metro Manila. I hardly recall if there were any.

In hindsight, which is always 20/20, those events showed the gays' capacity to express themselves with least interference from outside parties.

We like to believe that Tondo residents generally tolerated them to the point of letting them exercise their gay rights. We also treated them fairly.

Filipinos are basically tolerant and fair people.