Gay Boy Thailand

I have met the gay boys in Penang -all four of them. They were sitting in what I call Triangle Park, which is not really a park but a triangle-shaped traffic island in central Penang, at the top end of Chulia street. The traffic island has palm trees and some cement structures that serve as benches.

There are always people in Triangle Park - at least when it is not too hot in the sun. I saw the boys when walking by. One of them waved and smiled.

The group were clearly PLUs - people like us. I spoke to them and their English was excellent. I will call one of them Sony, as his mobile phone was of that brand. It was, I told him, the same model mobile phone my boyfriend in Bangkok had. Sony’s mother was Thai, he said. We used this opportunity to speak in Thai for while. My Thai was good, said Sony, as he was actually able to understand what I said.

Sony was 26. I told him he looked like he was 19. Flattered, he suggested he should come along and have a look at my hotel room.

- My hotel room is not much to see, I said.

The other boys knew their Penang hotels and said mine was cheap. Too cheap!

Sony was unhappy about my refusal and tried to convince me to change my mind. I realise that with my dazzling looks and irresistable charm I am a good catch. But Sony’s eagerness made me think maybe something more was at stake than just enjoying my exclusive company. This be as it might, he and his friends were nice guys.

I ran into them the next day too, at the same place. I had sat down in Triangle Park to watch life go by. It was after Friday prayers and many Muslim men in traditional dress were around. One of them made eye contact and sat down next to me. It was a Muslim scholar, a mullah. He wore a white and blue dress which covered his substantial body, had a knitted white hat on his head and a beard.

I wondered if the mullah wanted something from me. He kept glancing over in my direction. Maybe he wanted to save my soul for Allah? At this moment young Sony came by with his friends. Sony shook my hand. We spoke briefly and when Sony left he shouted “Bye darling!”. As he did this he pulled his shirt up to expose his well-formed body. I gave Sony the thumbs up, partly for his nice exposure and partly for his campy behaviour.

The mullah saw all this. He leaned forward with an expression of surprise, or maybe shock, on his face. I avoided looking at him. But the attention he gave me changed from glancing to downright staring. I was exposed as a sinner. What now? Would he report me to the religious police?

I sat still. From the corner of my eye I saw the mullah did not let me out of his sight. I was hoping to slip quietly away but could not. Now the mullah was sliding towards me.

When I looked up I saw something in his eyes, and it was not moral condemnation.

I did what any good Christian would have done in such a situation. I ran away.