The Night We Danced in the Street and Shocked the Neighbours

I recently vacationed with a friend when we embarked on a short, one-week cruise to Vanuatu, one of the many islands dotting the Southern Pacific. We do this every couple of years as it allows us to catch up and reminisce over our many years of friendship. This cruise, however, was to prove different in several unexpected ways, and for me, it was to be an education. While we’re both gay men and perfectly happy in our skins, neither of us is used to large groups of our kind. Over the years, before being homosexual became socially acceptable, we were used to remaining in the shadows, our safety assured by not drawing attention to ourselves. On this cruise, a large group of gay men, travelling together and dedicated to having seven days of partying, was guaranteed to focus the spotlight on them. What was more important for me was comparing myself, a product of an earlier time, with my peers who now enjoy the freedom my generation could only imagine. They can afford to be out loud and proud, celebrating their equality through being themselves and unafraid. If I were frank with myself, I’d say I was envious. I can only describe the first gala night as a celebration of being yourself. Several of the group appeared in inconceivable drag outfits while wearing tall, elaborate wigs more appropriate to the era of Madame de Pompadour before her saying farewell to both head and hairstyle at the guillotine. Others wore imaginative, unique costumes, not necessarily drag, but gay-themed and original with rainbows and colour. <a href="https://medium.com/the-narrative-arc/the-night-we-danced-in-the-street-and-shocked-the-neighbours-1277b96a32d6">Read More</a>