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A TRANSAtlantic Perspective |
O
Finding safe accommodations was a challenge. When I came out to the woman at the
Housing Office, she was nonplussed as to I should live. She said she'd been working there for 20
years and had never had to deal with "anything like this" before.
I'd been allocated a double room in a female house, she said, and while she could move me
to a male house, what would I do about changing and going in the showers? Much to my relief, I
was finally given a single room in a male apartment.
That settled, my first few days became a blur of filling in forms, paying for things and
getting hopelessly lost. No one seemed to question my gender, though, and everyone I spoke to
was extremely helpful and friendly.
Upon hearing my accent, they were more interested in hearing my views on Diana's death
while enquiring about their Uncle John in Manchester. But I was still pretty scared of using the
washrooms, and being "discovered" by my homophobic flatmates.
After a week of enduring these fears, along with jet lag and culture shock, I needed the
help of the Counselling Centre.
The counsellor I talked to was friendly enough, but knew nothing of transgender issues,
and could only suggest I speak to his colleague who had an interest in homosexuality. I soon
decided to look for support elsewhere.
After about a month I
started to notice that complete strangers were taking exception to my ambiguous appearance. I'd
get stared at walking down the corridor. Guys would walk into the washroom, take one look at
me and walk out again. Once a fellow student asked if I was "he, she or it".
Late one night in the tunnels, I ran into some
heavy-looking guys who were obviously and
loudly discussing my gender, and I was afraid they wouldn't let me pass. I wasn't sure which
would be worse: being beaten up by these phobes or trying to report such a crime to the
authorities.
Fortunately, nothing came of it, but I remained uneasy as to when I'd get hassled next.
It's not that this abuse was any different back home, but at least there I knew when I was being
insulted and what to say to defuse a situation. On the other hand, being a foreigner, I was seen as
a bit different anyway, so I was given more slack here. But I must say I felt a hell of a lot safer
once I found some queer friends to hang out with.
