Things were going well in Dublin, but I now needed to move to London. From there I could apply at the Embassy for a passport with greater leeway as to who could countersign the paperwork. We told Sameed that we would be quitting at the end of the week and he was most disconsolate. He persuaded us to do one more week and we were happy to oblige him. He also gave us a reference in Arabic in the event that we wanted to look for work in any of the Lebanese restaurants or Arabic-themed clubs there. The Christmas season was coming soon and he could expect a pickup in business on that account in any event.

In London we initially stayed with a schoolfriend of Lisa’s for a few days while we sorted out accommodation. We wanted to stay close to Lisa’s home for a number of reasons, most importantly from my perspective was the fact that she knew the local Vicar whom I hoped would, after he got to know me, sign my passport application. From Lisa’s perspective, he might be able to arrange a family rapprochement. It was also close enough to the college that we both hoped to attend if we managed to get our finances in order. Again, we opted to find a guest house and negotiate a longer-term rate. Then we went to church.

The Vicar recognised Lisa who introduced me as a friend. He nodded and explained that Lisa’s mother had told him of the disagreement between her and her father, and the reason behind it. The “friend” bit could be dropped! When Lisa explained that she was hoping to meet her mother and subsequently her father, the Vicar suggested that it would be a good idea that I not to be involved at least for the first meetings. That was agreed and the Vicar undertook to talk to her mother when she was next in church; she was a regular church goer.

While we waited we contacted the Yacht office in Piraeus by fax and asked them to send me an offer letter for a job starting in February, stressing that it was critical that I be available not later than the 1st of that month. They faxed the letter next day to a business bureau. Armed with the letter and my new birth certificate, I made my way to the Embassy and explained to an official that I had just received this job offer but had no passport. They were sympathetic, gave me the forms to complete and promised to do all they could to expedite the process. I completed the form and Lisa asked the Vicar to countersign, which he did readily on the evidence of my birth and baptismal certificates and my association with Lisa. I returned to the Embassy with the forms the following day.

Time to look for work… there were quite a number of Arabic themed clubs in London at the time and a few restaurants. Armed with Sameed’s reference we quickly got an audition and jobs in a club. Lisa was by this stage a competent though basic dancer, but her looks carried her through. We explained that Lisa’s outfit had been lost with her bag on a flight and were referred to a number of shops where we could get a suitable costume: We had a very pleasant day turning her into an oriental temptress. The work was harder than in Dublin as we had to conform to the requirements of the club in relation to music, dances performed and timing but the money was adequate, there was a dressing room and, most importantly, we were driven home each night by taxi. We worked six nights a week; we could have done seven, but decided that we needed at least one day off.

The vicar was as good as his word and fairly quickly reverted with news that Lisa’s mother would meet her at the church. I walked with her until the church was in sight, then disappeared, sorry that I could not support her more at this time. I met her afterwards and she was mildly optimistic. Yes, she was in a relationship. Yes, it was with a woman. No, it wasn’t a passing phase. She outlined her general intention to return to London at the start of the next academic year. She would like to be on good terms with her parents but did not think that she could return to live at home. In any event, she planned to live on campus. Yes, it would be with her girlfriend. Her girlfriend was Irish and intending to do a degree in languages and business. Yes, she would be prepared to meet her father but not at home the first time.

The busy party season in the run up to Christmas kept us in work and money. We would need to keep working until the end of January at least. I had to research the possibilities of a GRS procedure in Singapore; Lisa needed to find time to work things through with her parents. We both needed to arrange our college places for the next academic year. The first meeting between Lisa and her father had been difficult but both she and he had decided to make it work. We were surprised when, after two more meetings, he suggested that we all meet for dinner at a nearby restaurant, Lisa, her mother and father and me. This actually caused a problem as we had to quickly decide how much of my recent background I could divulge. We decided to mention only that I worked on the Yacht, which was where they knew we’d met. We could not mention the kidnapping as to have done so would have suggested a worse situation than actually happened to me; a CIS girl would have been put to work straight away, even while she was learning to be part of the show. The dinner went as well as it could, we were all polite and guarded. As we were getting ready to leave, Lisa’s mother casually asked if we would be going to Church before Christmas lunch, which she was planning to have at 2pm, as usual. Would that be OK for us? Lisa got a bit choked up so I answered for her.

“Yes, we’ll be at Church. What time is the service?”

“11am. Have you me the Vicar?”

“Yes, he helped me with my passport application when I arrived. I had managed to lose my original one”.

I had no idea what the Vicar had said to Lisa’s mother and I needed to explain why I needed a passport; I had already been to Greece, and therefore had had one. Lisa had recovered by this stage and gave her mother a hug leaving. Her father then gave her a hug, a little awkwardly, but still a hug.

“Goodbye dear,” her mother said to me as they left. “See you Christmas Day”.

The Church service on Christmas day was more elaborate than I was used to in Ireland and we spent the rest of the day with her parents. It was a pleasant day, and our mutual wariness was starting to thaw, but I did take care not to overdo it on the wine in order to keep track of my story. I generally kept to the facts, changing only my school and substituting the Girl Guides for my underage time in the Reserve Defence Forces. The family was very well off as Lisa’s father was involved in fund management in the City. We took a break to listen to the Queen’s speech, quite a novelty for an Irish girl as we had never heard of it, let alone heard it. When we got back to our own guest house I used the pay phone in the lobby to call home and assure my family that all was well and that we hadn’t spent the day huddled in some basement flat relying on a candle to keep warm! My family tended to worry more than was necessary therefore I had no intention of telling them about my going to Singapore until the operation was complete.

As we shook off the Christmas season we both got back to work and to planning for the year ahead. We both visited the college we hoped to attend to introduce ourselves and discuss how we could progress our application as we intended to be working in Greece until the term started in October. The admissions officer we spoke to was friendly and understanding and organised that we leave our applications with him. He would include them in the admissions process for the coming academic year when it was opened. He also gave us a telephone number to call in August, and assured us that, with our grades, admission was reasonably assured.

The Embassy rang in the second week of January and asked me to call in to pick up my passport. They had really pulled out all the stops for me and it transpired that an Embassy official had called to the Passport Office in Dublin when in Ireland on Christmas leave and had picked it up personally for me. Wow…

I called the number that Sophie had left with me the day after I received my new passport, spoke to a member of her house staff and left a message. A call was arranged for the end of that week and I confirmed that I was planning to proceed with surgery and had a tentative appointment and flights booked for the second week of February. She asked if Lisa was travelling with me and said that she would have funds transferred the following week. I thanked her, which she brushed aside, and asked that we call on her when we got to Athens on our way back.

The pace now became a bit frenetic. We had to keep working right up to the second last day before as we did not want to abuse Sophie’s generosity. We travelled economy class to Singapore with British Airways. The journey was long and tedious. As we had a stop over in Abu Dhabi, not exactly famous for its tolerance of gay or trans people, I wasn’t sure whether to travel on my new or old passport, which I still retained. I had told Lisa’s parents that it was lost, but not the Embassy or Passport Office as, in those pre-computerised days, they would never have connected Jasmine, the new applicant, to Jim, who already had a passport. Had the question arisen, I would have said that we were twins! In the end, we decided that I would travel on my new passport and try not to disembark in Abu Dhabi. That, as it turned out, didn’t work as they asked us all to disembark in order to clean the aeroplane but, as we only went into a transit lounge, we did not come into contact with officialdom.

Singapore struck me as orderly, clean, controlled. Our luggage was delivered directly to the hotel, probably to give border security time to search it. Signs in the airport warned us that the penalty for drug smuggling was Death! Even as a good, law-abiding citizen I felt nervous going through immigration and customs. The immigration officer asked the purpose of my visit and appeared to give an understanding nod when I said that I was in Singapore for a medical procedure and that Lisa, next in line, was accompanying me. He waved me through and barely glanced at Lisa’s passport. Our hotel was adequate and we ate there that night as we were too tired to find somewhere else.

We had a day before my first appointment at the clinic and we did the tourist thing; a bus tour of Singapore and a visit to Raffles. The following day we took a taxi to the clinic and checked in at reception. After a short time, we were ushered into a private office to meet a doctor who would review my situation. He was unhappy about my age. Apparently I should have been over 21 to be able to proceed without parental consent: I was still only 18. He relented a little when I told him that this wasn’t the case in Ireland where I was already regarded as an adult and that I was already a good way along the road to transition. I did not tell him about the coercive elements of my story; that would have raised unnecessary complications, but did explain that I was on hormones and had had an orchiectomy. I also explained that I was making my living now as a belly dancer from which statement he drew the intended inference about my femininity. Eventually it was agreed that the operation would proceed subject to a preoperative physical. He suggested that Lisa call back in an hour or so and that I would meet her in reception.

I got the usual battery of tests including a physical exam. Unlike the Greek doctor, this doctor was not impressed by the orchiectomy and asked me where it was done. I told him in Greece, as I thought that Egypt would have raised difficult questions. He checked if I was still taking the hormones and I was able to tell him that I had read the literature and had stopped on 1st January. Eventually he confirmed that the operation could go ahead. I would have to pay in advance of course and accommodation could be provided on site for Lisa if she wanted to be with me after the procedure. I was to expect to stay in hospital for 5 days and then could return to an adjacent hotel where the clinic had a preferential rate. Its proximity to the clinic would be useful in the event of complications. The procedure would be carried out 3 days from then.

I met Lisa in reception and, from my grin, she knew immediately that things had gone well. We settled down to make the arrangements both to do the bank transfer, confirm the date that we would check out of our current hotel and make a booking with the one close to the clinic. The night before the procedure was difficult as I couldn’t eat and had to drink enormous quantities of foul liquid to prepare myself… the less about that, the better! Of course, once prepped, nerves set in and I would dearly have loved a beer of a glass of wine, but no chance. We got a taxi to the clinic the following day, Lisa stayed with me as I checked in, then returned to the hotel to pack and make arrangements to move accommodation. I had wanted to do most of this the night before, but she vetoed the idea on the basis that she wanted to have something other than fretting to occupy the time when I was undergoing the surgery. Then I was into the process at the clinic, shower, put on a hospital gown and slippers, then wait as another series of tests were carried out. The anaesthetist appeared, asked me some questions about allergies; a technician botched putting a needle in my left arm and the anaesthetist had to return to do it, I was starting to feel cold and must have shivered as someone covered me with a light blanket. I got wheeled from a prep room to the grand stage, I looked up at lights, the surgeon introduced himself, a bit of burning in my arm… someone shook me awake, I murmured and dropped off again…

… I was lying on a bed, looking up at the ceiling, I wasn’t cold anymore. A nurse was checking a machine beside the bed; when she saw me awake, kind of awake really, she wheeled a table over beside me and held up a covered cup with a straw so I could see where I could get some water. No pain; this wouldn’t be so bad. I drifted off again.

Pain!! Like on one of the few times when I was persuaded to play Gaelic football, 4th Years against Leaving Certs. I was in goals for the 4th Years, caught a lobbing ball which would probably have bounced into the goal and received a knee in the groin from a Leaving Cert lad. I was being carried off. I must have made a noise; Lisa spoke and held my hand. A nurse came and fiddled with the needle in my left arm and the pain eventually subsided. I looked at Lisa and smiled…

After the first day recovery came reasonably quickly. Lisa was with me most of the time except when the nurses came to change my dressings. On my last day, I was examined by the surgeon who pronounced himself happy and then instructed on dilation by a senior nurse. I had to demonstrate that I could do it, and then I was cleared for discharge. We walked slowly, in 90% humidity, to the adjacent hotel; Lisa had already checked us in and set up the room. Though not strictly necessary, we had opted to remain there for three weeks. We had to stay somewhere, Singapore was relatively inexpensive, so why not stay close to the clinic?

Eventually it was time to leave, a final visit to the clinic, all ok and off to the airport. I was careful not to overexert so Lisa had to do all the heavy lifting. We flew to Athens via Frankfurt, this time without the Abu Dhabi stop. We passed through a transit lounge but were screened when boarding the Athens leg. I was nervous as I had to carry a dilator in my hand luggage and really did not want to have to explain it, but it wasn’t an issue as my bag passed through a scanner and wasn’t searched.

Athens held many happy memories and I was looking forward to spending some time there. Dancing wasn’t really on until my recovery had progressed, although I practiced within my limits. Lisa and I developed a little routine where we did a coordinated dance, doing precisely the same moves at the same time, and added some embellishments, not fully in keeping with traditional Egyptian dance, but good for a show. We met Sophie and were both a little surprised to hear that she hadn’t a new man in her life and did not intend to have one. She even professed herself as envious of our situation! She brought us to her house on two occasions for what was essentially a girls’ night in with a sleepover. She questioned us a lot about our lifestyle experiences: We were both on the edge of respectability for the time, two apparent lesbians, and me being trans. We suspected where she was coming from and were not surprised to meet another woman at the house on a third and final visit before we went back to work, whom Sophie introduced as her “friend”. Not knowing where she was at with her family, we resolved to say nothing about it.

We also visited the Yacht office. We had both been promised a working berth for the new season starting on 1st April. There was little activity over the winter and hostess service was generally performed by Maria with waitresses from the resorts who were essentially unemployed during the winter period. The boat was to be ready for its first trip starting Saturday, 2nd April so we joined the week before and settled back into what had become a familiar routine. As space was short in the crew quarters, we intended to leave most of our gear at the yacht office, including the ghettoblaster which had travelled with us halfway around the world by now. In those days, it was generally Ok to carry quite a bit of weight, even on economy tickets and our worldly possessions now fitted into 4 suitcases! Maria was with us as we went to drop off our surplus kit and remarked on the gettoblaster.

“Did you seriously drag that all the way to and from Singapore? Whatever for?”

“Don’t scoff! This helped us make money along the way.”

“Huh?”

“Dancing; we were in a restaurant in Dublin and a club in London.”

“What sort of dancing?” Maria, like the rest of the boat crew only had sketchy details of my time in Egypt.

“Belly dancing, I learned it in Egypt. Our outfits are in the case as well; we might be able to make some money dancing during college term in London”.

We showed Maria our outfits and tapes… she was thinking…

“I wonder... would you be able to bring these with you? We can find somewhere to store the case.”

“We’d never have time to practice or do a show”, Lisa said. “You know how busy it can be on board.”

“But just in case”, Maria persisted. “We could do something on the pay if that was the issue?”

“We’ll bring the gear”, Lisa said.

“And its not about pay”, I added. “We’re well looked after and it’s only a matter of how to fit in with all that goes on already.”