In Its Truest Form: Part I

My 30-something cousin married a Japanese woman this May. It was a simple wedding here in the Philippines, but it sure is something worthy talking about. It isn’t like a high-society Shirley of Hollywood met a ragged Tom downtown and lived happily ever after. My cousin’s love story was far more unconventional.

My cousin (J) left for Japan when I was still in high school. From my understanding, he left partly to help pay the tuition of his two younger brothers and partly to escape the furious eyes of his father. J’s father was the machismo type and resented having a gay son, his eldest son (yes, J was gay). J would avoid face-to-face meeting with him, knowing his father’s disdain with him. For years, I only heard bits of news about him. Apparently, his father slowly accepted his son’s sexual orientation, grateful of the money he’d been sending them. His father even displayed pictures of J with a long hair and makeup in their house, looking more like a female Japanese than a male Filipino.

Even when J’s mother died, he did not come back to the Philippines. He was overstaying in Japan and could not afford to go home just yet, lest the education of his brothers be hampered. It was really a hard decision, but one has to make sacrifices for the family.

Late last year, he went home. He brought a news with him that came as a shock to me and perhaps to most of the family. J was going to be married here in the Philippines—to a Haponesa.

I couldn’t imagine the difficulty of being on constant alert that the authorities would deport you anytime, especially if you were the breadwinner. Amidst all the hardships, he found some good Filipino and Japanese friends. He also met K, who changed his life. Then after, he was sending a picture of him with a short hair and without makeup.

I do not know the details of how he met K. But because of her, he changed his form from a female J back to a male J. Of course, there were still traces of his old self, especially how he walks and talks. K told him to surrender to the embassy and that she would marry him so he can come back to Japan. The risk of involuntary deportation was becoming more and more high, and it meant becoming blacklisted for a longer time. There was one crucial factor though—he was supporting his family back home. K told J not to worry. She would send him allowance until he can come back to Japan.

True enough. She’s been sending him regular allowance, and in about 6 months that he was here, K came here 6 times to see him, often spending only a few days since she was busy as an executive. She’d bring something for every member of J’s family. Though she hardly speaks English, she was well-loved by everyone. She helps in household chores, despite J’s family’s disagreement, and very respectful of the elders. She must have been a Filipino, if not for her Japanese eyes.

I saw her for the first time in the wedding. She was slim and beautiful, with little makeup and her long hair pinned to her head. She was a bit older than cousin J, but she looked younger. It was fascinating how she knew him when he was still wearing makeup on his face. That he was gay was something she knew, and yet, she loved him. That he was gay but returned to being a man for her was truly remarkable. It seemed to me a love beyond social status and nationality—even gender.

(also see part II)