Leading a double life in Indonesia Act: Samuel Sanderkan, who performs as Samantha Fox. Ardy Laplante had his first sexual thoughts as a 12-year-old boy watching a shirtless man cleaning the mosque near his house. At 13, Ardy was sent to a pesantren, an all-male Islamic boarding school, and was quickly initiated into homosexual sex. Eventually his boarding-house exploits became too much for the school. I will never tell my mum! She would go into shock and then die in the hospital. "They kicked me from the pesantren because many people loved to play with me," says Ardy (not his real name). The teachers told my mother that I'm sick. Preparation: Samantha putting makeup on with another performer. But he insisted to his parents that he was not gay, and to date, he says, "they still trust me." While many Western countries adopt, or inch towards, gay marriage, in a largely Muslim country, being gay or lesbian remains fraught. Being homosexual is not illegal, but the social taboos remain strong. Political and religious authorities view it as "haram" - forbidden or unholy. It's considered a Western import, a sign of deviance, loose morals. A Pew Research Centre survey reported 93 per cent of Indonesians felt homosexuality should be rejected. Only 3 per cent accepted it. As a result, the lives of sexual minorities are hedged about by lies and deception. Long-time activist Dede Oetomo, says his friends' behaviour is governed by the word "diskret" - discretion. Few have the courage to tell family or employer. Ardy, now 23, is typical. At several clubs in Jakarta he can dress, dance and kiss as he wants as the drag queens and "go-go boys" gyrate on the stage. He finds one-night stands on the ubiquitous BlackBerry messenger service and through social media. But Ardy maintains a facade. He has a girlfriend (who does not know his sexual orientation); he says he will "turn straight" in his 30s, get married and have children. Most importantly his family treats him as a good Muslim boy. "Perhaps they can read that I am gay, but they don't want to know," he says. There are small but surprising exceptions to "diskret" behaviour. The creative professions are relatively open and drag shows are surprisingly mainstream. "Samantha Fox" - real name Samuel Sanderkan - has made a part-time living since he was 14 performing as a drag queen. He earns about 500,000 rupiah ($55) for a show. He is bold - accepting dares from his friends to go as a woman to straight-only nightclubs; walking in the streets to see how many straight men ask his price. Once, performing in Makassar, Samantha's show was shut down and he was arrested for the "vulgar" display of female flesh. But when they found out I was not a real girl, it was OK. Cross-dressing and homosexuality have deep resonance in some Javanese cultures and Samantha has performed at weddings, parties and corporate events as Lady Gaga and Kylie Minogue. The official take of Indonesian Islam towards homosexuality and cross-dressing is unforgiving. "It goes against nature," says Ma'ruf Amin, an official with the government's Muslim advisory body, MUI. He says homosexuals can be "cured by being prayed for, or by receiving psychological and spiritual advice." Munarman, the spokesman for the Islamic Defenders Front, one of a growing number of thuggish mass Muslim organisations, blames an alleged moral decline on "cross-dressers, adulterers, homosexuals, lesbians, people who like to show off their genitals." Ardy remains an active Muslim, praying regularly, and tries to avoid thinking about the contradiction between faith and sexuality. "I love my God, but I'm scared with my religion because in my religion if you are gay, you will be going to hell, not heaven," he says. Ardy's answer is to "turn straight" in time to be considered for a place in heaven. When he's 32, he plans to marry and have children. "There's almost an obsession [with getting married]," says activist Dede, founder of lobby group Gaya Nusantara. He is in his 50s and grew up under Suharto, but says that since the dictator's ouster, "Indonesia has turned very conservative." Most find the biggest stress within their own extended family. Lesbian Ade Grande says coming out is "double, triple" as hard for lesbians as for gay men - she has to deal with the patriarchy as well as her sexuality. Ade is only one of two in a circle of 30 lesbian friends whose family knows her sexual orientation. Twelve years ago she felt she must tell her mother, but it took months to rehearse the speech. To Ade's surprise, her mother accepted the news. Most of her friends, though, are terrified even to have the conversation. Despite all Samantha Fox's chutzpah, when it comes to his mother, he goes to water. She'd kill me, then take me back to Batam Island. Being obviously gay on the street, particularly outside the relative safety of Bali or the big Javanese cities of Jakarta, Surabaya and Yogyakarta, can also be dangerous. "The police patrol and round people up either for public order offences or corruption," says Dede. Release costs 50,000 rupiah ($5.50) and you usually have to do oral sex [on the policeman]. But activist Rafael says that, if they stay "diskret," most gay men and lesbians get by. Organising gay-themed public events, though, remains fraught. Film festival organiser Meninaputri "Putri" Wismurti says it's grown worse since passage in 2008 of an anti-pornography law. Fundamentalists use the law to argue that anything "promoting" homosexuality is illegal. In 2012, police declined a permit for the festival unless organisers could prove it was "halal" - approved by Islam. The festival went ahead regardless - they insisted they did not need a permit. Now festival organisers aim to be "diskret." Putri says. Every year I have people coming up to me [at the festival] and saying, 'Now I know that I'm not alone'. But when even the gay and lesbian film festival is subject to "don't ask, don't tell," that's a difficult message to convey.