This essay is one of many. Going Out A series of travel stories that celebrate LGBTQIA+.
By the early morning, Granada. NicaraguaThe air is humid and hot. Some people are selling sliced fruits while others munch on soft quesillo. They weave between cars beeping and beeping through intersections. Through the screen of a nearby house, I can hear the theme of a telenova. “Buenas!” our tour guide Aurora Alvarez-Granados Ramírez calls out, rocking a crop top as she bounces into the courtyard where we’ve gathered.
I’m currently on a 2-week trip from Nicaragua to Guatemala (with stops at Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala), joined by 12 travelers from the US, the UK. AustraliaAges 20-75. Except for the husband who accompanies them, this group is almost exclusively women. Some are queer. Everyone is equally interested in learning about this legendary region.
As a Chilean-American—with a mother who did an extensive photojournalism project in Guatemala in the ’90s—I have long felt a pull to explore here. This is the first organized tour I’ve done in a long time. I prefer to go on my own. solo travelAlvarez-Granados Ramirez is a bilingual guide throughout the entire region. Alvarez-Granados Ramírez works as a bilingual guide throughout Central AmericaAs a transgender, she offers a perspective about these countries from the queer point of view. She takes one-to-three-week trips on Intrepid and independently, taking a route that includes Costa Rica, El Salvador Guatemala Honduras Mexico and Nicaragua.
For Alvarez-Granados Ramírez, this means navigating a region where visibility can come with risk. LGBTQIA+ Protections are limited. unevenly enforced The countries we visited “[Trans people] do not have a seat at the table where we can be respected, appreciated, and loved by our culture as who we are,” says Alvarez-Granados Ramírez. “At the very least, not yet.” It is not unusual for her to be stared at or misunderstood, and she believes that safety depends on the ability to quickly read a room. Yet that awareness shapes how Alvarez-Granados Ramírez guides, what she shares, and who she trusts to receive it. “I felt I didn’t belong anywhere until after my transition,” says Alvarez-Granados Ramírez. “I now realize that tourism is my calling, due to who I am and from where I’m originally from. “My story is meant to shared.”
