I suppose it’s only fitting that one of my first forays into the world of online journalism should end by spending an afternoon with a trio of gay nuns.

Indeed, how I came to be seated in a Moxie’s on Davie Street at five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, beside three men in whiteface, habits, and seven-inch heels is still something of a mystery to me. It’s not exactly the first thing that comes to one’s mind as one is munching on one’s first few bites of ‘Special K’ in the morning, but, one of the most important elements of living in a major city - especially one as diverse as Vancouver, is being open to new experiences, however unusual or foreign they may seem. And so, when a friend suggested I join him at the Veiling Ceremony for something called the Sisters of the Abbey of the Long, Cedar Canoe, I jumped at the chance. In fact, I considered it my civic duty to join him. It was fresh. New. Exciting. In the spirit of adventure, abandon, and raw experience.

Besides, all my other friends were busy.

It certainly didn’t seem to matter at the time that I had no idea what a ‘Veiling Ceremony’ was. At the risk of sounding completely culturally retarded, I’m just going to go ahead and admit that, until I met them, I had no idea that there were such a thing as gay nuns. But, as it turns out, Sister Ethica Slüt, Sister Merry Q. Contrary, and newly-veiled Sister Hyde N. Sikh LostofBling are the creators, founders and - at present, sole members of The Sisters of the Abbey of the Long, Cedar Canoe, a charitable and protest organization dedicated, through the use of humour and high camp, to highlighting important social issues. The abbey itself is based on a San Francisco organization known as the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, who rose to prominence during the early days of the AIDS Crisis, promoting safe sex, and becoming one of the first organizations to hand out condoms and safe-sex pamphlets at a time when nobody else was doing so. Their members, worldwide, are primarily - but not exclusively gay men, and since their inception, have inspired scores of imitators and independent organizations around the world; their mission: ”To expiate stigmatic guilt, and promulgate universal joy”.

During a ceremony in a lavish apartment in the West End, in the presence of close to a dozen witnesses, the inductee was asked to kneel, repeat a ritual pledge, and bow their head as the new veil was added to their headpiece. In fact, the process virtually mirrored the one under which actual nuns are veiled, although with more precarious heels and slightly more exciting underwear choices.

Add to this the fact that each headdress was constructed out of an old athletic supporter, and you have a ceremony that even the Anglican church might have trouble approving of.

As the afternoon progressed, I watched the sisters engage in “Bar Ministry” (a practice that looks, to the secular eye, an awful lot like regular, everyday flirting), recieved a ‘Sparkle Bindi’ in the middle of my forehead(as I understand it, meant to open my Third Eye through the cunning use of glitter), and found myself in a lengthy conversation with an enchanting chap who had, by all accounts, recently recieved a tattoo on his perineum. I was also the recipient of a ‘Genital Blessing”, a highly theological and deeply hallowed ritual which consisted of Sister Hyde N. Sikh hurling a handful of glitter in my face, and then spending the next sixty or so seconds casually fondling my junk.

I’d like to think that, overall, I’m a very good sport; however, after having recieved my tenth or eleventh consecutive Genital Blessing in under twenty minutes, I began to feel considerably less blessed about the whole affair.

“You can feel mine instead,” Sister Hyde offered, taking my hand.

I declined, as quickly and politely as I possibly could.

He giggled, then spent the remainder of the next half-hour attempting to fondle, grope, and caress, until I assured him that, no matter how much glitter he had left in the container, my gonads were feeling quite blessed enough.

Honestly.

The things I go through for the sake of a good story.

That being said, the sisters themselves, and the community with which they have surrounded themselves, is a tremendously exciting and vital one. These are people unafraid to take chances. Unafraid to provoke, or promote their cause. Unafraid to be different. Unafraid to express themselves however they see fit. These are people brimming with life, charity, and good cheer, and, even watching them on one of these early outings in the West End, in the first few months of their organization’s existence, it was clear that, wherever they went, their enthusiasm was infectious, and they left nothing but joy in their wake.

And, for anyone who’s interested, the sisters did say they were recruiting.

I considered it for a moment, but that eyelash glue always gives me the worst rash.

Interested parties can contact the Sisters at www.YVRsisters.ca