Marcel Baaijens

Queer in Small Town Slovakia

Despite the presence of a shops called 'Trendy', 'Sissy' and a bright pink shop called 'Dorothy' there are no signs of gay/queer life in Sturovo. Applying the statistical 10% average to the population of about 15,000, there should be at least a few. No visible presence generally means that being gay and out is not so cool and not regarded as safe by those who are.

When gossip spread the status of my sexual orientation beyond the small circle of people I trusted I felt exposed and vulnerable. Worst of all I realised that my work with the children was potentially placed in jeopardy. I reacted defensively by being extra careful with what I said or did. It felt unpleasant though like an ill fitting armor. Needless to say I was totally surprised to finally meet another gay man after 6 months of queer isolation.

The lack of a common language made connecting with people generally very difficult. Realising how rare our chance meeting was and how little time there was left to establish a connection, I had to bypass the habitual chatting and engagement of the mind to become acquainted. I took a risk, dropped all armor (ahhh), surrendered and engaged the heart to connect with this man. With my armor gone, I felt light, connected and whole again. Being able to give free expression to an integral part of one's being is vital for well-being, for being well. Our meeting was a wonderful opportunity to heal the bruising caused by the armor.

Beans for a Boy

Video stills from a dinner with a boy:
Dried beans soaking in water.

One day Balint, 9 year old Hungarian boy came to visit me one day with his mother. While we were busy talking in the studio he sneaked into the kitchen where leftovers from lunch were still sitting in a pot on the stove. He took a tea spoon out of the drawer, tasted the vegetarian bean dish, washed the spoon and put it back again into the drawer, leaving no trace of his secret mission. Once home he told his mother and said that my food tasted really good!

A toast with fresh apple juice.

Consuming a bean.

So I decided to invite him over for dinner one night, but alone!!! His mother dropped him off, and the two of us had to make conversation over dinner without an interpreter. The only thing we both agreed to do is talk and reply regardless weather we understood anything that was being said, which was most likely very little, if anything at all.

No thanks, to the second helping.

Homemade ice cream for desert.

He brought with him a wonderful gift, a handmade book containing a short story illustrated with art, diagrams and even a musical notation for a song. It became a great conversation piece. I still don't know what it is about, but it is quite magical.

He is trying to explain his story to me, I am trying to make sense of it.

He liked the dinner and the whole event so much that he now wants to cook a dinner for me at his place! This is tentatively scheduled for later this summer as time is running out with only one day left. I filmed the whole event and once I have figured out what was said I intend to edit it and show for all to enjoy.

Text and a song.

I thought it was extremely brave of this kid to go to the house of a foreigner, have dinner with him on his own and eat food that he is not accustomed to. This kid does not know what xenophobia is and with his fantastic attitude and sense of adventure probably never will. The relative social isolation I have experienced in Sturovo from adults has been compensated for by the wonderful spontaneous interactions with kids.

A pirate turned into a cow, or something... (translation pending)