Month 18.1. Gay Pride Split - June 11, 2011.

Yesterday 10 000 people came to protest against 200 people marching in Split's first-ever gay pride parade.

I participated in the parade with my two roommates. Most of the marchers weren't from Split – understandably, when for every homosexual in Split there are 10 000 homophobics. There were more cops and soldiers than there were marchers.

The march started at 2 p.m. I went to the center early in the morning, and was surprised to find cops scattered all over the city. Now I realize they came early in case someone tried to sabotage the parade before it even started.

I want to tell you that it was a successful march. But I feel only devastation. We started off in a park. Everything was fine and everyone was in good spirits. Then near the post office, there was a sudden scuffle and I saw the swat cops pushing a guy to the ground. Then we saw a man with blood on his face. Then we began to hear the chanting. Then we saw the men trying to break through the police barriers, screaming at the top of their lungs.

We approached the Riva, Split's boardwalk along the water. I was carrying the gay pride flag, so I was near the front of the procession. Just as we came to the mouth of the Riva at the end of Marmontova street, there was a loud bang, and smoke filled the air. The people in front of me retreated, and the procession came to a halt. A few reporters sprung out to the front, to catch what was happening on film. Ahead of us, thousands of people stood screaming against the metal fences bordering our passageway. They were chanting, jumping, and throwing objects into the street to stop us from moving forward. It took the swat cops ten minutes to push them back. My two roommates were hit by flying coins. We looked at each other and said, "We live in this place?"

Finally we entered the Riva. We walked between hoards of people to our left and right. Some just stared at us. Others went mad. One pretty young woman in a red dress lunged at us, screaming curses, and the cops pushed her back. Our happy march turned into a funeral procession. I felt like an inmate walking to her execution. We were dead silent. Plants hit the ground around us. We used our posters for protection.

I will never forget walking along the Riva. I have never seen such rage on anyone's face. I have never seen such hatred. I walked with tears in my eyes, and it took all my energy not to begin weeping until we reached the end. It was the most horrible display of humanity I've ever seen.

Most of you don't know me as being a religious person. But as I walked along the Riva, three things ran through my mind. The first was the shock of seeing how deeply humans are capable of hatred. I was surprised that I felt no anger or fear, only tremendous sadness. The second was a sudden understanding of how the Balkan wars could have happened. If 10 000 people had come to destroy a handful of people whom they didn't even know, because of one difference of beliefs, it was conceivable that they could have turned on their neighbours because of a difference of ethnic histories.

The third thing that came to mind was Jesus Christ. I've always found it impressive that a single man could have left such a strong legacy as to last 2000 years. I found it strange how people felt so moved by a suffering that wasn't even theirs. Now I understand better. To stand up for your beliefs as you are cursed and stoned is one of the hardest things a human being can do. There are few things more devastating than to have the whole world loathe you and treat you as a diseased animal.

My love and admiration go to all those who live openly as homosexuals in the Balkans. My support and sympathy go to all those who live in fear of their own homosexuality. I don't think the parade made a difference. If anything, it fed the rage of local homophobics. But there is a reason it's called gay pride. It's not about preaching one's values, but about finding a grain of confidence in a world of fear. If our participation has helped one person breathe a sigh of relief – if even just for the fact that someone showed up to lobby for gay rights – then it's a beginning.