Finding acceptance in a sea of intolerance
Indonesia is hostile to LGBTQ people, but a transgender woman finds herself embraced by her village.
JAKARTA, Indonesia — Hendrika Mayora Victoria Kelan, who once secretly sewed a dress out of mosquito netting, was met with stares and whispers when she returned to her childhood village of Habi on the southern reaches of Indonesia.
Many in the earthquakeprone farming community carved into a patchwork of cornfields along the Flores Sea recoiled at the thought of a transgender woman living in their midst. She knew them, their names and households. Yet more than a few believed a deviant spirit resided inside her.
Decades of struggle had inured Kelan to scorn: the taunts of children who mocked her femininity as a boy, the agonizing decision to leave the Catholic clergy after coming to terms with her gender identity, and the daily threats of violence she faced after she succumbed to sex work to earn a living.
Drawn back home to mourn the death of a cousin, Kelan wanted to start anew, refusing to accept the fate of so many transgender Indonesians condemned to life on the margins. She came out to her family. She stopped wearing the loose Tshirts and trousers she wore to mask her transition. She put on lipstick, draped herself in beads.
A priest welcomed her to volunteer at a nearby parish, helping with Sunday school and leading a choir. During village ceremonies, Kelan would help prepare food alongside the other women. Villagers began to embrace her, calling her Bunda Mayora, or Mother Mayora. They even urged her to run for head of Habi’s village governing body.
In March, she did the improbable, winning the election by beating seasoned candidates and civil servants who dismissed her as a novelty. As the months have passed, Kelan, 34, has been hailed as the only known transgender Indonesian to ever hold public office, providing a glimmer of acceptance in a country where LGBTQ people face mounting discrimination.
“As a trans woman, we are so often despised,” Kelan said in a phone interview. “I saw the hardships of others like me and I was determined to make a change.”
While homosexuality isn’t illegal in Indonesia — apart from the western province of Aceh, which is governed people with HIV and made extra cash as a tutor. She then met a trans activist who urged Kelan to shave her beard and embrace her identity by wearing women’s clothes and makeup. She shed her male name.
The transition was liberating, but it left her nearly destitute and unable to find steady work. She started busking with other trans women. When that wasn’t enough, she worked alongside transgender sex workers on the streets. She sometimes used her martial arts skills to break up fights and protect fellow prostitutes. She still has a pin in her arm, the result of an injury sustained fleeing police.
It wasn’t until she reconnected with LGBTQ activists that she was able to pull herself off the streets. Kelan began advocating for transgender rights at seminars and college campuses.
When she returned to Habi in 2018, she carried the double stigma of quitting the clergy and being transgender. Villagers assumed she left because she was caught violating her vow of celibacy.
“People were curious about my decision to leave” the brotherhood, Kelan said. “And they were curious about my identity as waria. But I did not care. I kept trying to do positive things to let the stigma fade away. I wanted to prove waria are not dumb or nasty. Slowly, I changed the way neighbors saw me.”
Six-months into her sixyear term as head of the socalled village consultative body, Kelan has used her time to distribute food and seeds to villagers whose meager incomes have been battered Indonesia’s runaway COVID-19 outbreak and the region’s natural disasters.
Habi is located on the island of Flores in East Nusa Tenggara province, a volatile area that has been ravaged by earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions and tornadoes. Last month, a twister toppled homes in the village.
Kelan, who oversees the budget for Habi’s 2,000 inhabitants, has also used her platform to encourage other transgender Indonesians to do volunteer work to raise acceptance. On Aug. 17, she led nearly two dozen other trans women in a flag ceremony for Indonesia’s Independence Day calling for equal rights.
“Her story is inspiring,” Vinaa of Sanggar Swara said. “By being elected, people can judge her by the job she does. She can gain people’s trust and prove trans women are capable of anything.”
Times staff writer Pierson reported from Singapore and special correspondent Hutabarat from Jakarta.