'sharing the same brand'
page 1 of 3
contents
of issue 78
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I would like to believe that we have left behind those times when HIV
seemed like an affliction of the damned, of people chosen as if part of
some diabolical game. The times when it only seemed to strike groups whose
names began with the letter H: Haitians, haemophiliacs, homosexuals. Some
of us who wore the H openly, as if on our foreheads, and walked it through
hospitals, pharmacies and our own neighbourhoods, are still here, still
trying to be and show the person behind the label. In my case, it is a
process that began young, first by coming out as gay and then as HIV positive.
In Spain, HIV is intimately associated with another H. In the 70s and
80s, heroin use was widespread among the younger generation. Injecting
heroin caused HIV to spread with brutal speed. Both 'queers' and 'junkies'
have shared graphs and statistics, hospital waiting rooms, pharmacies,
disability tribunals and a lot of stigma.
During more than 16 years of living with HIV, I have tried, with more
or less intensity, to find people in the same situation as myself. Yet,
with time, I have found that heaven does not necessarily exist between
equals either.
Let me explain. As a gay man faced with the attitude of the Spanish gay
community, 'community' is a concept that I have had to put into quarantine,
in spite of the number of businesses both by and for gays in Barcelona.
They seem to have completely given up on the ideal of social change, and
have tried to ignore the nightmare of
Aids to such an extent that in certain gay circles it's considered a topic of bad taste. In Barcelona, for example, it's very difficult -not to say impossible-
