Let me start by saying that this little essay isn't going to really deal with much of the technical, aesthetic, or gory aspects of piercing. Most of you reading this are, I'm sure, more than familiar with all those parts of body modification. If you aren't, just look around some more on the site and read more testimonials. Or e-mail me with any questions; I love to talk.

My interest in piercing arose from my own personal growth and the seeking of a suitable rite of passage. I've always been attracted by ritual, even the simple things, like sneaking into Catholic Church with my friend Mario or pledging allegiance to the flag. (Yes, I was born and mostly raised in the U.S. though I live in Vancouver now.) Anyway, I've recently been doing a lot of soul searching and wondering about my own potential, both as a man and a human being in general. I've still suffered from the immortality complex, and have a strong survival instinct. Let's just say if the Y2K thing hits hard and everything goes to hell, I'm not real worried. First, we'll eat the rich, but I digress...

Again, anyway, one of the things that has always worried me is the "what would I do if...?" scenario. Would I step into a dispute to help someone? Rush into a burning building, donate bone marrow? Any of you who saw Saving Private Ryan and saw the poor little corporal freeze while the German killed his buddy and had even a moment of nagging doubt deep down in your soul will know what I mean.

So, I finally started looking more seriously into this whole manhood thing. Men, especially white men, have a pretty tough time of it right now in the whole scheme of "Help, we're lost" things. I'm not complaining, mind you. We still have it pretty easy in North American general society. But I'm now talking about individuals as opposed to the group as a whole. Specifically me. One of the biggest problems men, white or otherwise, have right now is that we, as a society, having given up or actively destroyed all of our rituals, our rites of passage into manhood. For probably at least the last 100 years, nobody's been able to teach us how to be men. We've got a society of little boy running things, and getting into trouble, shirking responsibility, denying accountability. Do I even need to name names? Bill Clinton is probably the best president the U.S. has had since Truman, but he's an embarrassment. Does anybody really need multiple millions to play any sport? We have no role models. Pardon my raving.

So Uncle Pete, where are you going with all this crap? Well there's this book, see? And it helped me like you wouldn't believe. It's called King, Warrior, Magician, Lover. It's written by Gillette and Moore, a couple of guys who you'd swear go out into the woods, get painted up, and beat on drums. More power to 'em. They don't really go into it though. Instead, they discuss the four aspects, or archetypes, of masculinity. (Would you believe that the aspects are the same as the title? Weird, eh?) They go back into religion, mythology, history, the works. The theory comes from one of Freud's contemporaries, name of Jung. Anywho, if you have both an X & Y chromosome, you will identify with at least some of this book. Save your pennies and buy it, because you will want to write in it.

From there we go to a guy named Scott who I now work with. Freak. Spacers, shit all over his face, wild BM. Brands, the full deal. Luckily, I've been blessed with an open mind and am generally well-disposed toward people. He's a great kid and was really enthusiastic about talking about BM. Which was good, because I was really interested in hearing about it. Nice when stuff works out. The more we discussed, the more fully I began to appreciate the whole...I don't know, lifestyle? Let me just reiterate that I do actually have an open mind (barn doors wide open and horses gone, you know?) I like people, and respect people who have the bravery or audacity to decorate their bodies, or sleep with who they like to, live the lives they choose and feel like anyone who doesn't approve can go and hang. What I get real tired of, especially in Vancouver, is kids with hundreds of dollars worth of BM asking me for change while I'm walking to work. I'm still a bit old fashioned that way.

Back to Scott. And the various and sundry reasons people choose these modifications. I tell him about the book. He tells me how a lot of people equate BM with rites of passage. Hmm, says I. The first piercing he had done was an ampallang. Wow, says I. I could never do anything like that. Then it hits me. Can I? Well that was it. I pretty much have to find out. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this is exactly the kind of ritual I need to gain that all important thing I've been looking for all these years: manhood. For God's sake, I'm thirty years old; well overdue. What I actually though was "Damn it, nothing else scares me as much as the idea of doing this. Damn, damn, damn, now I have to." Scott showed me BME and I explored and researched and explored and said things like, "Holy S***" and "That's gotta sting" but mostly "That's so cool!" (As an aside, BME also has some great stuff on the ritual aspects of piercings, including things like suspensions, which really got my little motor running.)

After reading the testimonials, looking at the pictures, getting the goods, I finally decided I needed an apadravya. The reasons?

1. PA's, I thought, for me at least, were just ornamental. Right now, ornamentation is beside the point. I also don't like the idea of pee dribbles.

2. I didn't like the looks of the ampallang, and I felt it would be hypocritical of me to borrow from a culture (African derivative) which I really couldn't relate to, and from which my ancestors nearly destroyed.

3. The apadravya is the most painful, which IS the point (again-for me), and the closest cultural reference I could find was Mayan, which I can relate to much more. (I know, my ancestors were responsible for the near destruction of Native American culture too. I never claimed to be consistent.)

4. I liked it best.

So, off I went. Scott recommended a guy named Bear, but his shop was out of business, or at least the number was. So he then suggested Mike Sage, at the Underground here in Van. Unfortunately, Mike was out of town pursuing music, but the very helpful Lindsay at the Underground suggested Greta. Oh, I should mention that the Underground is not the name of the piercing studio, which is called Insamsara, located AT the Underground. They also have the Sacred Heart on 10th.

So, Greta. Now, I'm thinking, do I want a woman doing this? I mean I have no problem with women doctors, prefer them actually. But however familiar Greta may be with this procedure, I'm guessing she doesn't hold this equipment in her hand quite as often as a man does. So Thursday, I went to meet her and (almost) all my fears were allayed. Greta is very sweet, considerate, and thoroughly professional. And she laughed at my jokes. She listened to my reasons like I was a sane person, then told me to go home and measure myself. As she drew the diagram of what I was supposed to measure, I realized she might be even more familiar with the equipment than I was. I'd never really seen the under-side of my penis before. Thus more fears are allayed. We made the appointment for the next day (today).

I took off work early, came home, lit some incense, smoked, read my book, wrote a bit, then walked to Sacred Heart. Along the way, I stopped in the middle of the Burrard Bridge and threw some (biodegradable) stuff into the ocean. Stuff that the boy has held onto, stuff the man must let go of.

At Sacred Heart, Greta was running late, but I didn't mind so much. Lindsay was there too and it was nice to see another familiar face. He actually very nicely asked if I minded if he watched, as he hadn't seen this particular piercing before and he was apprenticing. Of course, says I. All in the interest of science. Actually I told him I didn't mind if he watched as long as he didn't mind if I cried like a little girl.

That seemed to break the ice.

In the room (strangely like a doctor's office-I don't know if that made it better or worse), Greta went through everything again, the procedure, aftercare, the works. I cannot praise her skills and bedside manner enough. I actually asked if all the people she pierced fell in love with her, or if I was the first. She assured me that that too was normal. Emotions get pretty raw at this stage.

I know I said I wasn't going to get into the nitty gritty, but this may be important: it hurts. A lot. The apadravya actually requires two piercings, first a PA as a guide hole, then the actual piercing itself, from the top. Now, you must understand, you cannot anticipate pain like this. It was worse than I had prepared for, but how do you prepare for someone jamming a hollow needle through your fella? Having said that, the pain was also much shorter than I anticipated. That 7-9 seconds she warned me about just flew on by. Seriously. Sharp, intense but quick.

Then it was through. Apparently, my penis was a piece of cake, everything where it should be, etc. I know it's ridiculous, but I was pretty pleased when Greta muttered, "Could this be any easier?" Like I planned it or something. Well, I like to exercise my urethra for such an occurrence. Whatever. Another aspect of manhood, I suppose.

Afterward, we went over care again, Lindsay thanked me again (Greta saying how disappointed she was about there being no weeping) and I talked a little about why I chose what I did. He was a little curious when I specifically asked for the most painful piercing. Can I just say one more time how wonderful these two were?

So here I am, in the buff at 3 am, writing this out, glancing down at my unit with a nearly 2" spike through it. Did I get an endorphin rush? If you can call giggling like an idiot all the way home a rush, then yeah, I got it. How do I feel? Pretty much the same, but better. THIS ROCKS!!! I faced the biggest fear, or test, or something. Am I fully man now? Don't be silly. There is no magical formula of transformation. This is simply the first step on the road. But every journey starts with the first step.

The three week Update:

Well, it's been three weeks, and everything's AOK. As much as I thought Vancouver was pretty hip to this whole piercing thing, I've been pretty surprised at people's reactions. I had kept a lid on things for awhile, but my friend Sandra was very proud of me & dying to tell someone what I had done. So I let her tell a bartender friend of ours. In the pub. Suffice it to say, Pete's new piercing isn't so much a secret anymore.

So, reactions. Mostly positive and supportive. I've been surprised by the guys, most of whom "get it" once I explain, but no one so far has said, "Cool, I'm gonna go get one." Big surprise.

I think one of the things I like most is being in a huge group of people, looking around and trying to guess who else might have something like this. It's something to do.

I phoned Greta yesterday and begged her to let me have the shorter (properly sized) barbell put in this week. She agreed, as I promised that everything has been healing up REAL good. So Monday I'll go in & get the actual barbell for me.

As far as the technical stuff, I've been soaking daily, using Epsom salt. Betadine in the shower, occasionally. The crusties are starting to get real hard now- that can sting when the barbell slides. Morning erections were pretty painful the first three days after the piercing, then just uncomfortable for a couple more. Speaking of erections, masturbation is kinda cool, because you pretty much have to learn how to do it again. Depending on how long you wait, you might just be using your fingertips. Let's just say that it's different now. And it feels pretty.intense. I'm trying to convince people I'm a born-again virgin, but I don't think they're buying it. I can hardly wait to try sex, but I still have six weeks to go. Like that's a problem.

Anyway, it still ROCKS. I have noticed that the initial .confidence? conviction? enthusiasm, maybe, whatever it is, is still there, but subtler now. Like it's part of who I am, instead of something external that I get once in awhile. The piercing was the test, and the barbell is evidence. Pretty cool looking evidence, I might add. So, now I've got three tattoos planned, and Scott's volunteered to do some cutting or branding, though I would still have to come up with some designs. Greta wants to do my right ear, because of its rather unique shape. *sigh* I'm a freak now.

Email me with any questions, comments, concerns (family):
ragueneau@bc.sympatico.ca
website: www3.bc.sympatico.ca/theswamp