Culture Clash

CULTURE CLASH

"When can you come see me again?" I asked, eager to show my love for him.

Jay thought for a moment and replied, "Tomorrow. I will tell my parents we study for a test."

"That's ... what's the word? ... wi set!"

Jay laughed at my mispronunciation of the Thai phrase and said, "Wi set!" and then repeated it slowly to emphasize the correct pronunciation. "Yes! It is wonderful!"

CHAPTER FOUR

Jay appeared at my door fifteen minutes early; he must have been as impatient as I was to get naked, lavish affection on each other, and give each other pleasure. As soon as the door closed safely behind him, I hugged him tightly and kissed him passionately. He was anything but a passive receiver of my enthusiastic welcome; he clung to me so tightly it seemed our bodies melded together. We lost no time getting to my bedroom.

Jay was less nervous, less modest, and far less inhibited about participating in gay sex. If he was still concerned about shaming his family, it was not apparent from his exuberance. I seemed he was letting his natural instincts and desires govern his actions. He needed no reassurance, no prompting, no soothing comments. Instead, he showed uncharacteristic initiative and daring. He was an active participant, which substantially increased my pleasure.

My pleasure was also enhanced by my recent acknowledgment that I loved Jay. Our first sex was extraordinarily fulfilling but it had been predominately physical even though I was fond of Jay. Our second sex was elevated to a much higher level because it was infused with an emotional bond of reciprocal love.

We had very little time to lie together after our first sex because Jay had to return home. But after our second time, we had the luxury of holding each other close and enjoy the bliss of togetherness. An unexpected feeling consumed me: I was no longer a frustrated young man beginning to give up hope for a meaningful relationship. I had found a partner who was bright, personable, honorable, and (not to ignore another admirable trait) sexy as hell. Life was good!

I knew that he may be returning to Thailand but I squelched that thought and allowed myself to be consumed by the ultimate satisfaction of loving and being loved.

The room had grown dark; it was getting late. Jay broke the silence and said, "I do not want to go home. But I must."

"I also wish you could stay," I replied. "But I understand. Your family will be expecting you."

Reluctantly, we rose from our embrace and got dressed. As he prepared to leave my apartment, a crushing sadness swept over me. I had found my true love but I realized that we could be together for only brief interludes. We hugged and kissed at the door to the hallway but Jay broke free before both of us could start crying. When he was gone, my tears flowed freely.

Dad phoned the next evening. "How are you doing, son?" he asked cheerfully.

"I'm fine, dad. When will you be back in town?"

"Tomorrow afternoon if traffic doesn't hold me up...tomorrow evening at the latest. How about a bit of fishing on Saturday. Hell, even if the fish don't bite, I'd like to spend some time with you."

"Sounds great," I answered enthusiastically but then a thought struck me. "Can I bring a friend?"

There was a pause before dad said, "Sure!" Another, longer pause and he asked, "What kind of friend?"

I knew what he really wanted to know -- whether I had found a boyfriend -- but I decided to tease him a little. "Just another student from school. He's been helping me with chemistry and I'd like to return the favor by bringing him along ... give him a break from studying. Are your sure that's all right?"

"Any friend of yours is a friend of mine," he said. "More the merrier, right? Unless he's a very good friend ... if you know what I mean. Maybe you don't want me hanging around if he's a very good friend."

"Dad! I want to see you. I just thought I could do something nice for my friend for all the help he's given me."

"Brian, level with me. Just how good a friend is he? You say he's been nice to you -- in what way?"

"I told you. He's helped me in chemistry class. I don't think he's ever been fishing so this could be a new experience for him. I'm not sure he can come but if you don't mind, I'd like to invite him."

"Do that," my dad quickly replied. "I'd like to meet him."

"I'd like you to meet him," I said. "But when you do, don't form a quick impression. He's shy around strangers. It will take a while for him to get comfortable. Then you'll see what a magnificent person he is. And by the way, he's Chinese, grew up in Thailand. His father's an engineer who transferred here about a year ago."

"He's a fur-i-nur?" my dad cried out. The tone of his voice left no doubt that he was not pleased.

"He's a friend, dad! And a helluva nice guy!"

"Well I don't see why you couldn't have picked one of your own to be friends with," he said, still confrontational in tone.

"Dad! You've always told me that good people are good people whether they were rich or poor, truckers or supervisors, Catholics or Protestants, black or white. Well, Jay is good people who happens to be Asian."

"You got me there," dad conceded. "But tell me one thing. How good a friend is he?"

"A very good friend," I said emphatically. "In fact, he's my best friend."

"Dammit, son! You're dodging my questions! I'll come straight out and I expect a straight answer. Have you and your friend been ... ah ... cozy together?"

"Geez, dad. I never could hide anything from you. You always know when I'm not telling you everything. So I might as well say it. He's gay like me. We get along very well together. Do I have to give you the details?"

"Please don't!" my dad shouted into the phone. Then, after a short pause, he said more calmly, "But if you and him want to spend time alone ... without me ... I'll understand."

"NO!" I said. "I can't think of anything better than to spend time with the two people I love."

There was a long awkward moment during which I realized that I had, in effect, told my dad that I was in love with another young man, a Chinese young man. The silence on the phone worried me.

I was about to say something when dad spoke. "Say that again, Brian."

Calling me by my name was an almost sure sign that he was either angry or concerned. The latter was more likely.

"I said I want to spend time with the two people I love."

"Sounds pretty serious," dad said calmly. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure that I love you? Of course! Am I sure that I love Jay? Yes! Wait until you get to know him. I'm sure you'll like him."

I could tell dad was struggling to say something and it may not have come out like he wanted it to: "When you told me you were queer ... oops, sorry ... gay, I didn't like it. But you're my son and I love you. Now you've gone and taken up with a chinaboy, I don't like that either. But you're still my son and I want you to be happy. If you're happy with a fur-i-nur, then I guess I'll just have to get used to it."

"Trust me, dad. Once you get to know him ... once you see his true character ... you'll like him."

"If you say so," dad snapped back.

"Is it still okay to ask him to come fishing with us?" I asked.

"Sure," he said (but not very convincingly). I'll come by to pick you up at nine Saturday morning. Gotta go now. There's a smokey on my tail and they don't like truckers talking on the phone."

I immediately called Jay. He seemed hesitant to accept the invitation. I reasoned that his shyness was holding him back. After several minutes of persuasion, however, he said, "I will ask my father. Wait one moment, please."

After nearly five minutes, I heard another voice on the phone. "This is Jei's father. Can you please explain your invitation?"

I repeated the invitation, emphasizing how much fun it would be and that I wanted to do something nice for Jay because he had been such a big help to me in school. He interrogated me about where we would be fishing, was it safe, and how long we would be. I must have answered all his concerns because he said, "Good. Jie may go with you and your father."

I thanked him and Jay got back on the phone.

Jay and I talked for a few more minutes about what to wear and what to bring (nothing). I concluded the call by suggesting, "Dad will pick us up at nine. Perhaps you could come to my apartment by eight ... or even seven. That would give us some time together. Alone!"

"I understand," he replied in a whisper. "I will come early to see you."

I was awake by six and had showered fifteen minutes later. I started to get dressed but realized that it was pointless; Jay would arrive soon and I would just have to shed my clothes. I slipped on my gym shorts and waited impatiently for Jay to arrive. At ten past seven my doorbell rang and I ran to the door, ready to scoop my lover inside and smother him with hugs and kisses.

When I opened the door, however, I was surprised to see Jay with a man who was obviously his father, a very handsome man only slightly larger in frame than his son. Jay spoke first. "Brian, this is my father. He brought me here. He wishes to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you, sir," I managed to say. "Please come in."

They stepped inside. Jay's father's disapproving gaze at my barely clothed body was unmistakable. Thinking fast, I said, "I slept late and haven't had time to dress. Come in and sit down. Please excuse me while I put some clothes on."

As I quickly slipped on my jeans, flannel shirt, socks, and shoes, I obsessed over the poor first impression I had given Jay's father. Returning to the living room, I overheard Jay and his father talking in Thai. Oh, how I wished I knew what they were saying!

For the next thirty minutes, Jay's father asked me about the fishing trip (which I thought I had adequately explained on the phone), about my school work, about my ambitions in life, and about my family. It was probably meant to be friendly interest but his formality and unsmiling expression gave me the uncomfortable feeling that I was being interrogated. Both Jay and I grew nervous over his probing questions about my parents. I described my dad in glowing terms but hardly mentioned my mom. That did not satisfy him; he wanted to know more about her.

"She was a very good mother when I was growing up," I said. "But then she got sick. I'm sure you're aware, sir, of the dangers of alcohol for people who become addicted to it. I don't blame her for her sickness. I still love her for what she was and for raising me. But -- by her choice -- we don't see each other any more."

"That is too bad," he said with a frown. "But you see your father?"

"Yes, sir. As often as possible. Whenever he's in town. I love him dearly and want to make him proud of me."

The last statement was deliberately added to appeal to what I understood was a typical attitude in Chinese culture. I must have guessed correctly because he smiled for the first time since arriving.

He turned to his son and said something in Thai. Then, with a start, he turned to me and said, "I apologize. It was unkind to speak my native language. But that is how I speak to my family. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course!" I said.

"I must go, he said. "Please to have a good time today."

I escorted him to the door and we said our goodbyes. Turning back into the room, my first impulse was to rush to my lover and greet him properly but I saw his head drooping down on his chest.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I am very much sorry, Brian. I had no chance to tell you my father would bring me to meet you. You were not prepared for it."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, lifted his chin, and said, "Don't worry. I just hope I didn't say anything to cause trouble."

"No," Jay said. "No trouble. If he did not approve, he would take me home again."

"If you don't mind my asking, what did he say to you just before he left?"

Jay gave me a wry grin and said, "He said I must be polite to your father. I must show my thanks for joining you in fishing."

I laughed, "Just like a protective parent -- they never stop telling their children how to behave."

"Perhaps," Jay said as he looked at me seriously. "But for me it is different. If I do not do right, I dishonor my family. That is not allowed."

"Well," I said, having been reminded of the strict code of honor in his culture, "I'm sure your father has every reason to be proud of you and should not worry about your behavior."

"I must thank you, Brian, for the good things you said to him. He was pleased. He let me stay. He did not take me home."

"Then my coming to the door half-naked was not a problem?"

"Perhaps a little," Jay said and then, with a chuckle, added, "But it was problem for me. I got ... what is the English word you use? ... horny!"

I laughed. Jay laughed. Then I said, "I get horny seeing you even with your clothes on. I love you. I want to make love to you. Right here! Right now!"

Because of our passion for each other and aware that my father would be arriving soon, we lost no time getting naked and skipping much of the foreplay that we both enjoyed. It was good that we did because we were in the middle of a post-orgasmic kiss when the doorbell rang. I checked the time: half past eight. Dad was early. We rushed to put our clothes on.

I let dad in and introduced him to Jay. Jay was, as I expected, very shy upon meeting my dad. What little he did say was, in words and tone, very formal and respectful. I hoped that would diminish my dad's disapproval of my having an Asian boyfriend. I couldn't tell whether it did or not. All I knew was that dad's manner was subdued and not at all like his normally expressive nature. I worried that behind his polite façade, he disapproved of my having a Chinese boyfriend. Jay, however, since he did not know my dad, would not have suspected that dad was not being himself.

On the drive to the lake, dad and I did virtually all of the talking. I tried to engage Jay in the conversation but he answered my questions only briefly and didn't volunteer anything. I hoped the situation would change; I was afraid he wasn't enjoying the trip.

When we arrived at the lake, dad said he would go take care of the boat rental if we would unload our fishing gear from the trunk of the car. I took advantage of the chance to speak to Jay. "Is everything all right, Jay? Are you enjoying the trip so far?"

"Yes. It is new experience to me. Thank you for bringing me."

"So what do you think of my dad?" I asked.

"He is nice. I can see he loves you."

"And he likes you, Jay. Don't be worried if he doesn't say so." The truth of that was dubious but I wanted to put Jay at ease.

We had carried all the fishing gear to the dock and were waiting for dad when Jay said, "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course!"

"You talk to your father like a friend. Not a father. You joke with him. Is that the way in America?"

I had to think about that for a minute. "Not always," I began. "I suppose not all American boys get along with their father as well as I do. I am very lucky to have a father like mine. We've always been friends. He's gone most of the time but when he's home, he has always taken time to play with me. He's interested in what I do ... my school work, for example. We often go on fishing and camping trips. I guess you would say that he is my best friend ... until I met you, that is."

"And he is like that ... even when you said to him you like boys not girls?"

"Yes. We even joke about that sometimes. He doesn't approve of my being gay but he still loves me."

"That is strange," Jay said. "In my family there is no joking. I think my father loves me but he does not say so. This is strange country. Not like Thailand."

"I'm sure your father loves you, Jay. If he didn't, he would not have wanted to meet me. He would not have made sure you would be safe. He shows his love differently but it's still love."

Jay was quiet for some time as we waited for my dad, Jay said, "Yes. My father loves me. But he would not if he knew what you and I do. His honor would be destroyed. HE MUST NOT KNOW, BRIAN!"

"He won't!" I assured him. "I would never cause you or him that pain."

We saw dad approaching so we could talk no more. I resolved, however, to resume the conversation later.

To be continued