Is Gay Tourism More Than Tourism? A Case Study of Puerto Vallarta,MX

Personal Reflexive Statement

In 2002, A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies devoted an entire volume to Queer tourism. In her article, “Circuits of Queer Mobility: Tourism, Travel and Globalization,” Puar notes how popular literature on queer tourism focuses on the evaluation of the gay-friendly destination. As a response to this, Puar challenges us to explore how nations become gay destinations and to critically examine the impact of LGBTQ+ tourism on the destination itself. As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, my article is a response to Puar’s call for a more critical view of queer tourism in which I use a social justice perspective to question what gay tourism might do to the gay community and tourist destinations. I am interested in not only preserving the idea of queerness which lies outside of commodification and the neo-liberal project, but also in asking how the LGBTQ+ community can more intentionally practice social justice as we seek our own liberation.

Every year Puerto Vallarta seems to become more popular as a gay vacation spot. With a great climate, beautiful ocean bay, beaches, mountains and lush tropical jungle as the setting, Puerto Vallarta is a small city devoted to serving the visiting traveler.

Vacations offer us opportunities to escape. They give us a pause in our everyday lives to explore, indulge, and relax. Like most vacationers, gay tourists search for locations that offer respite and adventure, but they also seek vacation spots that are safe and accepting. ¹ As Clift and Forrest (1999) note, gay men indicate that the opportunity to socialize with other gay tourists and to visit established gay tourist destinations are reasons for vacation location choices. In addition, Pritchard et al. (2000) report that “the need for safety, to feel comfortable with like-minded people, and to escape from heterosexism, often to specifically gay spaces, emerge as key influences on their choice of holiday” (p. 267). Furthermore, Herrera and Scott (2005) note that “travel to gay spaces makes it possible for gay men to express themselves freely” (p. 260). Hattingh and Spencer (2017) confirm that gay-friendliness, tolerance and the desire for safety continue as significant factors for gay tourists. The reasons and motivations for gay men to seek out gay travel destinations seem well established. Gay tourist destinations allow for an opportunity to escape heterosexism, for freedom of expression, and identity formation in gay-friendly spaces. (Clift and Forrest 1999; Hattingh and Spencer 2017; Herrera and Scott 2005; Hughes 1997; Monterrubio and Lopez 2014).

Destinations, successively, have turned to marketing as means to attract gay clientele. Indeed, within the annals of tourism studies, gay tourism has been presented as a lucrative market opportunity (Monterrubio and Lopez 2014; Russell 2001). Community Marketing & Insights (CMI), an LGBTQ market research firm, notes that the LGBTQ community in the United States has a buying power of almost $1 trillion dollars. In addition, CMI notes that the LGBTQ community makes discretionary income that is used most prominently in LGBTQ inclusive companies. In terms of travel, “LGBTQ participants took 3.1 vacation or leisure trips” in 2019. (Community Marketing & Insights 2019). Ram et al. (2019) state that the LGBTQ tourist makes up about 6 percent of the global tourist market. Marketing studies suggest that it is not sufficient to put an LGBTQ friendly sticker on a business to attract and retain the gay tourist. (Guaracino 2007; Pritchard et al. 1998; Royo-Vela and Ruiz Molina 2007; Waitt and Markwell 2006). Rather, Pritchard et al. (1998) note that three elements help to create a tourist destination: a well-defined destination, a gay infrastructure, and festivals or events. These three things together help a location to solidify its identity as a gay destination which then attracts the gay population.

Evidently, the LGBTQ community has become a distinctive consumer population. Sears (2005) argues that the restructuring of capitalism has indeed opened up spaces for gay and lesbian existence. Yet, this opening, Coon (2012) suggests, creates a conflicting practice: the LGBTQ+ community is pursued as consumers at the same time members of the community have not achieved full citizen status. While Coon explicitly means formal state-sanctioned citizenship and equal rights in terms of the legalization of homosexuality and gay marriage, I want to extend this idea of citizenship since many in the LGBTQ+ community still face structural inequality and everyday encounters of prejudice, discrimination and lack of safety (Lewis 2013). Doan and Higgins note in their study of the LGBT community in Atlanta that participants seek a place where they have “the ability to navigate many of the activities of everyday life with no more hassle than that experienced by non-LGBT people [such as being] able to go grocery shopping as a couple and not be stared at.” (2011:18). Their participants seek a neighborhood that offers security and comfort. Like gay enclaves and neighborhoods, gay tourist destinations offer a respite from everyday hassles and discrimination and provide an opportunity to experience acceptance, security, and inclusion which may not exist in their regular lives. Much like Lewis notes of Ottawa’s gay village, gay tourist destinations offer “a means of achieving informal recognition alongside official rights and securing visible space” (2013:7). Correspondingly, Williams (2018) describes the African American women in her study as having found expression of their inalienable rights through vacations in Jamaica. Gay tourists may also experience a sense of coming home in a gay-friendly site that encourages and celebrates being gay. Through my ethnographic research I show how a gay destination is constructed as a location where members of the gay community can experience acceptance and inclusion (Puar 2002). In addition, I ask the following questions, is this acceptance and inclusion dependent upon consumption? Are the tourist site and expectations for behavior in those sites oppressively normal (Sedgwick 1990)? In other words, does the site create a normative standard of behavior for gay tourists? Furthermore, while gay tourists may experience inclusion and a level of acceptance, how does gay tourism affect the destination site itself? Is this acceptance and inclusion problematized by larger systems of inequality such as class, gender, and race? And finally, as members of a historically oppressed group, does and should gay tourism rise above its commodification to produce just, equitable relationships within and beyond the LGBTQ+ community including the environment?

Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, or Vallarta to locals, has become one of the most popular gay tourist destinations abroad in the last 30 years, particularly for Americans and Canadians. I use Vallarta as a case study because it has distinct places and “events which provide contexts for the celebration of gay culture” (Graham in Coon 2012:514). In particular, Vallarta hosts Gay Pride and a White Party ² in addition to having a gay area of town, La Zona Romántica. Ethnographic research began in spring 2015 when I moved into a community along the coast about 10 miles south of the city for three months. The geographical choice had as much to do with affordability as location. While I knew I wanted access to La Zona Romántica, living there was unaffordable. A second stage of research took place for 10 weeks in the summer of 2017 when I lived inside the city just outside of La Zona Romántica. While there, I took Spanish language courses at a gay-owned/friendly language school. A third stage of research took place in fall 2018 where I stayed for one week in one of the most popular gay-friendly hotels on the beach in La Zona Romántica. A fourth stage took place in 2018 over Thanksgiving weekend, which corresponds with the Vallarta White Party, where I stayed in a non-gay, family-friendly hotel on Playa de Los Muertos on the edge of La Zona Romántica. Research took place for a total of 24 weeks over four stages across two and a half years during which time I was a participant observer with an outsider/insider status (Buch and Staller 2014). I am an out member of the LGBTQ+ community identifying as female; on occasion, my gender status marked my outsider status due to the overwhelming presence of gay men. My insider status as both a member of the LGBTQ+ community and my Spanish language skills, however, allowed for uncomplicated access in Gay Vallarta and informal interviews with tourists, Vallarta locals, business owners, and employees.

The Construction of Gay Tourism

The federal government of Mexico has chosen to actively promote LGBT tourism to international tourists. In a press release from early 2020, the Chamber of Commerce published a document on its official mx.gov website which states that the Secretary of Tourism “aims to diversify Mexico’s tourism product and reach segments that increase foreign exchange.” ³ (“La actividad turística en México hoy tiene una nueva dimension social” 2020). This affirmation comes about a year after the Tiangius Turistico (Tourism Market) Mexico 2019 in which the individual Mexican State Secretaries of Tourism made a public declaration to seek out the LGBT market. In particular, they cited LGBT tourism dollars as the main reason. The tourism secretaries argue that the national and international LGBT population is a large potential tourism market and that LGBT tourists spend more than the traditional or straight tourist. “This segment of the population spends 10% more than the normal tourist. For example: the traditional traveler spends $680 per stay; those for business and conventions allocate $1,600 per stay; and members of the LGBTTTI ⁴ community invest $1,300 in their vacations. It is a very important market” ⁵ (Martinez 2019). The Mexican government also sees itself poised to attract the LGBT tourist industry because of Mexico’s legal protections such as the Federal Anti-discrimination Law as well as the Regulatory Law of Mexico City which allows for equal marriages and adoption. In addition, the country’s National Council to Prevent Discrimination founded in 2003 is lauded as anti LGBT discrimination legislation which serves to protect tourists and citizens alike (Outright Action International 2003). ⁶

Puerto Vallarta a historic fishing village in the Mexican state of Jalisco on the Pacific Coast has invested in the tourism economy since 1940s (Cardenas 2018). More recently, international tourism has been made easier through direct flights from the United States and Canada and frequent U.S. based cruise ships docking at the port. Vallarta itself is not a large town geographically or in terms of population compared to Acapulco or Mazatlán which are other major beach destinations along the Pacific Coast of Mexico. Vallarta has grown to the north and crossed the state boundary of Nayarit where the city is called Nueva Vallarta and is a different municipality. To the south, it continues to grow as the coastline allows. Vallarta sits on the Bay of Banderas which is replete with marine life: whales and dolphins migrate through the bay as do sea turtles who come in the fall months to lay their eggs on the beaches. Because historical Vallarta itself is rather contained, it is very walkable with an active city center. Other necessities are accessible in a short taxi or bus ride. A substantial malecón (a constructed embankment along the coastline) abuts the ocean and includes tourist restaurants, night clubs, and access to the public beaches. The very large chain hotels and all-inclusive resorts are to the north in Nueva Vallarta and to the south of Vallarta. While Vallarta is in the state of Jalisco, workers in the tourist industry come from many parts of Mexico and even other Spanish speaking countries. However, within the tourist locations of Vallarta itself, English is almost more common than Spanish. Workers who provide service to tourists in hotels, restaurants, tours, doctors’ offices, veterinary clinics, spas, and yoga classes almost always speak English.

The director of tourism for Vallarta cites the beautiful beaches, great restaurants, ecotourism, fishing, adventure sports, and culture as reasons that Vallarta has become so popular. Tourism accounts for about 50% of the economy of Vallarta. In fact, Vallarta is the second most important tourist destination in Mexico (Pacheco ^n.d. ). On average, Vallarta has more than 4 million tourists annually, each spending on average $1,000 (“Gays Drive the Economy of Mexican Beaches” ^n.d. ). In addition, passengers from the weekly cruise ships spend about $100 when in Vallarta for the day.

Outwardly, Vallarta has embraced gay tourism and even has an LGBT selection on its official tourism website (“Mi Viaje Es LGBT” ^n.d. ). “According to the Puerto Vallarta Convention and Visitors Bureau, the city’s Zona Romántica is home to more than 70 businesses that serve LGBT consumers, including bars, nightclubs, restaurants, hotels, stores and tour services” (“How Puerto Vallarta Is Welcoming LGBT Travel” 2017). There is evidence that the economic contribution from gay tourists exceeds that of straight tourists (“Gays Drive the Economy of Mexican Beaches” n.d.). The rise of gay tourism in Vallarta began in earnest about 30 years ago. What is now referred to as the gay district or Gay Vallarta is in the southern part of the city called La Zona Romántica. Many folks relay the story that gay tourism saved this area of the city and foreign (American and Canadian) gay investments spared historic buildings, built money-making hotels, and revitalized this historical area of town (Arestis 2020). Vallarta was the first Mexican city to receive the Gay Travel Approved distinction by GayTravel.com and now participates in the International Gay and Lesbian Travel Association. Gay tourists continue to make up a significant portion of the tourist population. In 2020, 34 percent of tourists in Vallarta were reported to be LGBT (“34% of Tourists in Puerto Vallarta are LGBT” 2020). In addition, Vallarta has hosted seven Annual Gay Pride Festivals with the number of events and attendees growing each year. In 2013, Vallarta approved civil unions between same sex couples with same sex marriage in the city being legalized in 2016.

La Zona Romántica/Gay Vallarta

Gay Vallarta clearly offers something desirable to gay tourists because La Zona Romántica, events, and tourism continue to grow and expand even as other research suggests some gay enclaves and gay tourist destinations are being gentrified and assimilated by non-gay populations (Doan and Higgins 2011; Ghaziani 2010; Hattingh 2019; Visser 2014). During the two and a half years of my research, La Zona Romántica has added new high-rise condominiums, restaurants, bars, and night clubs. When in La Zona Romántica one is, without a doubt, in Mexico. The distinctive style of buildings, narrow cobbled streets, and the décor are all reminiscent of an old Mexican village, yet with modern conveniences. While some retail stores obviously cater to gay clientele with the gay flag featured prominently in their displays, others simply place a gay friendly poster in the windows of their places of business. One of the most prolific types of business in La Zona Romántica are the numerous real estate agencies available to help tourists turn their vacation into a permanent stay with luxury condominiums selling for upward of $300,000–$500,000 and even into the millions of U.S. dollars.

Unquestionably, the beaches are one of the main attractions in Vallarta. In regard to the services available on the various beaches, the contrasts are stark. The tourist beaches have established restaurants with bathrooms and outside showers, a wide-variety of food and drink, and rattan and cotton style lounge chairs with substantial umbrellas served by uniformed, relatively bi-lingual, employees. Many of the beaches are exclusive, and one can only access the services as a resort guest or by purchasing a day pass. Some of the resorts physically restrict access so one cannot walk along or enter the water from the beach without having paid to do so. In other cases, resorts and restaurants provide chairs and umbrellas, and one must purchase food or drink to access the beach. However, if one has purchased a day pass or is a hotel guest one can use the beach and its amenities without the expectation of a further purchase. On the beaches frequented by locals, it is much more common to see families bringing coolers of drinks and their own food to eat. On these beaches there are some simple makeshift restaurants with plastic Coca-Cola or Corona chairs, indicating that the companies provide the chairs in exchange for selling and promoting their products, minimal or no bathrooms, and basic food and drink with workers who speak only Spanish.

In addition, one can observe differences in apparel and activities. On beaches frequented by locals, regular clothes are very often worn to the beach. While bathing suits are used, it is just as common to see women, men, and children in shorts or jeans and t-shirts or dresses or children in just underclothes swimming in the water and playing along the beach. Tourists, in contrast, have beach specific clothing—swimming suits, coverups, and towels. In addition, the activities pursued are distinct. For the locals, fishing is a main activity. It is not uncommon to see locals pole fishing from the beach or small boats. Local families play games on the beach and in the water. The activity on the exclusive tourist beaches tends to be focused on lounging, sunning, and drinking.

The most popular beach in Vallarta itself is Playa de Los Muertos south of the malecón. The furthest point south on this beach has been designated the “gay beach.” The gay beach is not restricted or blocked off in any way. La Zona Romántica extends to the east. There are over 20 different LGBTQ friendly hotels in La Zona Romántica. Two of the most popular and largest have beach access, pools that face the ocean, bars and a club-like atmosphere with loud house music often hosted by a DJ. To use the services on the beach, one must be a hotel guest, purchase food and drink, or buy a day pass. Like all of Playa de Los Muertos, the beach and water themselves are completely accessible. During my stay at one of the gay-friendly beach front hotels, a local Mexican contact joined me for a couple of afternoons. When she arrived, she told me she had never in the 13 years she had lived in Vallarta been to this beach. When I asked her why, she simply said that everyone just knew it was the “gay beach.” Undeniably, an assumption exists that the tourists who frequent the gay beach are indeed gay. As two female-presenting individuals we were assumed to be romantic partners by several staff and guests despite no outward indication to this regard. After we left to go get something to eat away from La Zona Romántica, she remarked on the bathing suits the men were wearing. “They leave nothing to the imagination,” she said. “Is that problematic?” I asked. “Not for this beach, I suppose, but the bathing suits are really a bit more suggestive than Vallarta generally,” she explained. Her observation of swimming suits reflects the near uniformity of attire of the gay men. Almost every man wore a bikini bottom that accentuated his genitalia. This beach attire was not used by men on the other tourist beaches and furthermore one could notice the change in attire while strolling south along Playa Los Muertos. Throughout La Zona Romántica, there are gay-friendly beachwear shops, all of which sell the style of bikini seen on the gay beach. In particular, the gay beach is one place outside of the gay nightclubs that one can experience the almost exclusive gay male presence.

The gay beach blends a party atmosphere, with constant club/house music, and relaxation on lounge chairs with beverages in hand. Interestingly, there are very few men, at any one time, actually swimming (or lounging) in the ocean. Instead, the beach-side pools and hot tubs teem with men. As well, hotel staff are on hand to offer poolside massages. Public displays of affection between male tourists are not an uncommon sight with men kissing and holding each other in the pools as well as when in the ocean. Hotel staff and beach sellers are particularly attentive to this clientele creating a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. One afternoon I heard a gay tourist exclaim to a beach fruit seller, “I just love you!” after she had remembered what he had ordered from the day before and sought him out with the same order.

La Zona Romántica has a distinctive rhythm as activities and venues transition from sun and sand during the daylight hours to fine dining, bars and clubs as the evening progresses. Music from the bars and clubs float into the cooling air as do the clientele. There are many nightclubs in Vallarta, but those in La Zona Romántica cater specifically to the LGBTQ+ community with an almost exclusive gay male, foreign clientele. The clubs host popular entertainers from the U.S. and Canada, such as Leslie Jordan, and offer Drag Queen shows and Cabaret nights. Just as in other major U.S. cities, the taxis await the closing of the clubs as do many taco stands which open to serve the hungry and often times drunk late-night customers.

The nightlife features as a central piece in Gay Vallarta as it furnishes a topic of conversation in the evening as groups of gay men plan and prepare for the night. I often encountered groups of gay men in restaurants discussing which club they were going to, who was going to meet them there, and what if any themes, performers, etc. were planned. Over breakfast and also while lounging on the beach, the prior evening’s activities were strongly featured in conversations as the night was relived through the stories told.

My second stage of research was timed to include Vallarta Pride activities. Aside from a few Mexican themed parties and parade entries and the use of some Spanish, there was no distinction from a pride festival in a major metropolitan city in the U.S. The use of English, the party themes, the concentration of alcohol, and the focus of activities in night clubs and hotel bars, and the overwhelming emphasis on the presentation of the gay male body reflected pride celebrations I have attended in the U.S. For instance, the majority of the pride parade entries featured almost naked, hairless, sculpted male bodies in bikini or thong swimsuits. A few locally famous drag queens participated in addition to one lesbian entry, the tourist police, and an important local government official as the parade marshal, the Municipal President of Vallarta, Arturo Dávalos Peña. The events for the week were almost completely concentrated in La Zona Romántica at gay-friendly hotels, nightclubs, and the gay beach. Four women exclusive events were held in addition to health awareness and fundraising events for community organizations. Vallarta Pride is advertised internationally and has an international ambassador. It has become one stop in the ‘tour’ of Gay Prides with a fixed weekend in May, which coincides with the U.S. Memorial Day weekend and does not interfere with other major Pride Celebrations in the U.S. and Canada.

In addition, Vallarta hosts a White Party over U.S. Thanksgiving weekend. As with Pride, and gay tourism in general, the target audience for the White Party is international tourists. After all, Thanksgiving, like Memorial Day, does not exist as a holiday in Mexico, and Mexicans do not need the lure of warm weather nor the desire to escape the November winter cold as reasons to abscond to Vallarta. Dancing, drinking, and swimming are the tagline for the weekend. Like Vallarta Pride, the White Party is also part of the global party circuit where destinations have fixed weekends and potential attendees can plan their trips not only well in advance but also attend more than one White Party in a given year. In Vallarta, the four days of activities all occur in La Zona Romántica and feature the gay-owned and gay-friendly hotels as party sites.

In Gay Vallarta, the bulk of visible gay tourists are gay males. In addition, the majority of the gay-friendly businesses are gay male-owned. There are lesbian-owned businesses, with one of the longest standing being a Gay Vallarta Day Cruise now in its 19th year, but almost all of the gay business owners and visible gay clientele in Vallarta are male (including the clientele of the Gay Vallarta Day Cruise). Additionally, the majority of gay-friendly places are exclusively gay male destinations and cater to the gay male crowd: male go-go dancers, drag shows with exclusively female-presenting performers, and male servers and wait staff. This is not to say that there is not a lesbian presence in Vallarta, but rather that the larger gay tourist business in concentrated form is male.

The third stage of my research was during Mexican Independence with town celebrations all week long. The gay-owned and gay-friendly businesses used this as a marketing tool. Images of rancheros, vaqueros, and mariachi musicians without shirts and cut muscular torsos with a leading line to the groin, complete with the Mexican flag, advertised happy hours, go-go dancers, and nightclubs. In general, the advertisements themselves, mostly in English, were completely disconnected from the idea of Mexican history. During happy hour the images came to life—the go-go dancers and waiters were all in similar style dress as seen in these adverts.

With the advent of the Internet, finding travel information for Vallarta as a gay destination is easy. Multiple websites specifically cater to the gay male tourist. Additionally, two, complementary gay guide brochures, updated biannually, are widely available throughout La Zona Romántica. These publications also have websites and online calendars which are updated on a regular basis. The websites and guides not only provide information regarding hotels, beaches, bars, and activities, they are also replete with images. There is a consistent, prominent focus on images of topless men—often in groups, at the most popular locations, doing the activities discussed in the accompanying text and on the websites of the gay-owned and gay-friendly businesses. With the exception of the advertisements used for Mexican Independence Day, the majority of men figured have Anglo features or a vague ethnic look. Very few advertisements show Mexican men or black men. Additionally, all the men have short hair, sculpted bodies and are wearing the same bikini swim bottoms found in the shops when pictured on the beach or poolside. In general, the texts of the advertisements discuss La Zona Romántica and also urge travelers to stay near the gay beach because this is where all the action happens.

Effect on Vallarta

Indeed, tourism dollars are important to Vallarta. And, undoubtedly Vallarta understands itself as a tourist destination. Socio-spatial segregation exists in Vallarta. As with many tourist sights, the majority of locals do not live near the tourist areas. Indeed, in Vallarta there is an area of town referred to as the Mexican side of town or “The Other Vallarta” (Cardenas 2018) where the prices, according to locals, are more like Mexican prices. This area of town has no view of the beach, no luxurious structures, and is closer to the town dump. While the cost of food and other services are a bit more in line with the rest of the country, they are still more expensive than most places in Mexico. Tourism has priced many Mexicans and Vallarta locals out of their own community. While some tourism jobs, like teaching Spanish to international tourists, pays an above minimum wage, much of the tourism work pays the official Mexican minimum wage which was $88.36 (pesos) or about $4.71 (USD) a day in 2019. In some cases, workers can earn double or triple this, especially through tips.

In gay-friendly businesses, male waiters, bartenders, and massage therapists experience the added expectation of gay sexual objectification, regardless of their own sexual identity, which includes the illusion that they are available and crave the admiration of the gay male clientele. One evening as I was returning to my hotel room from the beach, I took the elevator with the male wait staff for the evening’s happy hour and drag show. In the short ride up, one of the young men exaggeratedly rubbed his torso up and down while gyrating against his two colleagues. He turned to me and asked me if I liked what I saw as he burst into laughter. Later that evening I saw the same young man subjected to the very actions he jokingly demonstrated in the elevator by a male hotel client, except he wasn’t laughing while money was placed in his waist band. Emotional or sexual labor creates an added dimension to these men’s work (Hochschild 2012).

Numerous encounters of gay tourists interacting with workers were observed. For instance, some beach sellers offer massages to lounging tourists. Massages on the gay beach take on an added expectation of service and unlike other encounters with vendors create a prolonged period of interaction: physically and verbally. The workers show interest in the men’s lives, plans, and activities. Subsequently, I heard the workers speaking to each other regarding the perceived sexual interest of the tourists and the titillation that is done for the benefit of tips and not for their own sexual pleasure or because they identify as gay. In this regard, not only does the worker manage emotions, including sexual exhibition, but he also must create an atmosphere of inclusion and acceptance for the tourists, irrespective of his own sexual identity. In a gay tourist destination, space has been sexualized and set apart from the heterosexual norm, which is part of the appeal for the tourists. Gay Vallarta offers the opportunity “to experience alternative sexual practices and behaviours” (Nash and Bain 2007:49). Workers are complaisant in the creation of this space. Mendoza’s (2014) research on male-to-male sex tourism is useful here. Mendoza concludes that Gay Vallarta does not clearly offer male sex workers the opportunity to self-identify and concludes that the identity process “is contradictory to the practice of sexual services” (p. 187). For many sexual workers, the work is just that, work. For those who identify as bisexual or gay, sexual work does not offer the opportunity to explore their own identity. Whether sexual work or sexualized work, Gay Vallarta is created for tourists to explore their own identities, sexual practices, etc. The workers are all just part of the creation of the scene.

In addition to the human impact, tourism adds an environmental impact as well. Tourists in general use more natural resources than those who live there (Holden 2013). Specifically, in Vallarta, Everett et al. (2008) illustrates the much larger carbon footprint of vacationers than the residents of Vallarta itself. All of the hotels have air-conditioning and the laundry services in hotels and for tourists use clothes driers—two things that are absent in the majority of local homes. Also, water consumption is higher in tourist hotels as shower pressure standards reflect U.S. levels. In addition, the tourism creates more garbage, and that garbage impacts residents of Vallarta in ways it will never impact tourists (Tousignant, Eberts, and Espinoza 2011) including where it is dumped and the level of contamination. As tourism in Vallarta grows, more of the forests are cut down for the increased building sites. In La Zona Romántica, “almost 900 housing units [which are also used as short- and long-term rentals] were built on just over 23 thousand” squared meters from 2010 to 2018 (Cardenas 2018:104). In addition to the expanding concentration of buildings and the growth of landscape changes, public services are stressed, traffic congestion is created, and public space is reduced (Cardenas 2018). More built surface contributes to increasing local temperatures as well as decreased ability to control hillside run-off during the rainy season. The development of Vallarta is intrinsically connected to tourism (Everitt et al. 2008).

Is Gay Tourism More Than Just Tourism?

In Gay Vallarta, sexuality is celebrated. Gay tourists are invited to travel there and to be gay. It is not a stretch to say that Vallarta and the investors in Gay Vallarta have been purposeful in their pursuit of gay tourists. “The formula is no longer a secret: Mix a beautiful, welcoming destination that has fabulous beaches, mountains and bays with gay nightlife, hotels, boutiques, restaurants and an increasing amount of live entertainment, and you have the perfect vacation venue. As the peso is affordable against the U.S. or Canadian dollar now, it’s an even greater value” (“How Puerto Vallarta Is Welcoming LGBT Travel” 2017). Perhaps the most important thing Vallarta offers is the feeling of being special; in La Zona Romántica the gay identity is catered to and viewed as an asset. By using luxury standards in aesthetics and services, creating gay-only spaces, and issuing an “invitation” to the larger gay community to come, the feeling of acceptance and inclusivity is built. In addition, because of the near exclusivity of gay men, Gay Vallarta offers the opportunity to formulate identity and claim one’s sexuality. Indeed, Gay Vallarta can feel like home to gay men in much the same way gay enclaves and neighborhoods in the U.S. and Canada feel. Because of the reception Mexico and Puerto Vallarta have given to gay tourism, gay men experience an affirmation of their identity and behaviors. The gay-friendly and gay-owned businesses in cooperation with long-time tourists and part-time residents plan the annual events, organize festivals, and work together to maintain Gay Vallarta. In this way, La Zona Romántica offers inclusion, acceptance and safety.

However, Gay Vallarta exists because of the commodification of space, participants, and activities. This commodification creates a place for the gay community to gather and be gay away from critique and demonization. As Hennessey (2000) notes, this commodification can appear progressive as it breaks down traditional ways of life or constraints on social norms. Therefore, what emerges as “liberating,” but was previously named illegitimate or abnormal by the larger heterosexual cultural standards, becomes seen as legitimate and normal within the confines of consumption or the bounds of La Zona Romántica. Consequently, Vallarta appears very progressive in comparison to other Mexican destinations.

Yet to what extent is this truly inclusion and acceptance or merely citizenship of consumption? As Sears argues, “People with money (more often men than women) have privileged access to the commercialized spaces and consumer lifestyles that define visible queer ‘communities’” (2005:93). The acceptance and inclusion experienced are premised on market participation. As Puar explains, the market economy promises “full inclusion…through personal consumption” (2007:83). As Doyle argues regarding Montreal’s Gay Village, Gay Vallarta “does little to counter dominant society’s power structure…[Gay Vallarta] is tolerated as an expression of the needs of gay consumers within a capitalist economy” (1996:84). That is to say, acceptance and inclusion is available for those who can afford it. Thus, gay tourists are not culpable of overt discrimination. In other words, the social stratification that already exists in society is covertly reproduced through market strategies that are veiled in the liberal/progressive idea of gay space and gay liberation. So, while some may experience acceptance and inclusion, those who cannot pay simply do not have access.

Not only does full inclusion through market consumption create stratification within the LGBTQ+ community, but also those who can participate set a standard of gay consumption and a normal criterion for gayness. The “middle-class gay men and lesbians have the bulk of the buying power and thus set the tone” (Drucker 2014:229). Throughout my research I repeatedly encountered a narrow definition of how to be gay when in Gay Vallarta: where to stay, which beach to frequent, what to wear, where to eat, what tours to take, and what nightlife to engage in. This standard look and behavior are made visible through advertisements and gay tourism websites. Because of the frequency and near uniformity of the images, expectations for how to look, how to have fun, and how to be gay in Vallarta are clear. On one afternoon on Playa de Los Muertos away from the gay beach, I met a gay couple who have been vacationing in Vallarta from Canada for years. “We don’t do the gay scene here,” they relayed, “It’s all too stifling—besides we’d miss out on being in Mexico and really knowing the people.” While this couple may be an exception, they clearly pointed out the standards and expectations for gay tourists while in Vallarta.

Moreover, this normality must be protected and maintained. Without normalization, one loses acceptance and inclusion as experienced in Gay Vallarta. The maintenance of this position need not take an active form since the market determines who can participate. A Mexican vacation may cost less than other international destinations, yet the cost of this vacation is prohibitive for many in the LGBTQ+ community. The ability to take a gay vacation allows one to participate in the acceptance and inclusion of Gay Vallarta while that segment maintains the standard. As Sears (2005) notes, gayness becomes visible through the consumption of particular goods and services. A vacation to a gay destination becomes part of that visibility. Those who cannot afford such a vacation are not only made invisible but are used to reify the standard of gayness by their inability to participate. Ultimately, then, this standard creates acceptance for those who can participate and exclusion for those who cannot. The LGBTQ+ community then is divided along class lines.

Not only does gay tourism divide the LGBTQ+ community, but gay tourism furthers global inequality through imperialistic practices at the destination. Drucker argues, “Gay/lesbian middle-class overconsumption has acquired an imperial dimension through the tourist market.” (2014:235-236). This imperial dimension can be seen in Vallarta most clearly through segregation. Gay Vallarta gives respite from the homophobic outside world, yet the luxury provided and the affordability of the vacation itself exists because of inequality between nations. One key factor of gay tourism in Vallarta is the affordability for U.S. and Canadian citizens. The lure of the destination lies in its value—how much vacation one can get for the U.S. or Canadian dollar. This affordability exists largely because of the dependent relationship Mexico has with the U.S. as well as the imperialistic practices of the U.S. (Drucker 2014). As Ingraham argues concerning weddings, gay tourism also “depends upon the availability of cheap labor from developing nations with majority populations of people of color” (2008:113). While one could argue that Vallarta was proactive in seeking out the gay market, in reality the direction and growth lies outside their control to a large extent. The investment has been made and the tourist dollars now fuel the economy. Workers now depend on access to tourism jobs created despite the negativities of tourism which ultimately impact their quality of life. Exploitation through wages and life in a service role with less social status and power, perpetuate the dependent role of Vallarta and its workers.

Furthermore, the acceptance and inclusion experienced in Gay Vallarta is a chimera for many Mexican LGBTQ+ citizens. Despite the concerted effort to attract gay tourists, which includes advertising the Federal Anti-discrimination Law, the Regulatory Law of Mexico City, and the National Council to Prevent Discrimination, 473 LGBTQ+ individuals were murdered in Mexico as a result of homophobia and/or transphobia between 2013 and 2018 (Letra S 2019). Gay Vallarta exists as an exception to the experience of many LGBTQ+ individuals in Mexico. While some LGBTQ+ Mexicans relocate to Vallarta, this is not a viable option for so many and a naïve solution to systemic anti-LGBTQ+ violence. The presence of Gay Vallarta has not curtailed the homophobic and transphobic reality of Mexico.

Conclusion

To call out gay tourism as oppressive is difficult, particularly if we consider Gay Vallarta as an inclusive space that offers gay men an opportunity to form an identity and experience inclusion. The search for acceptance and inclusion is built on experiences of homophobia, exclusion, and often violence. In this context, those who oppress or participate in oppressive structures also experience oppression in other arenas of life. Yet, we must take seriously the impact of gay tourism on the gay-friendly destination itself, as well begin to explore how the creation of gay space mimics neocolonial practices. We cannot stop at celebrating how gay space has displaced heterosexual space. As Sears reminds us, “The fact that advanced capitalism has opened up spaces for open lesbian and gay existence should not mute our anti-capitalism” (2005, 105). We must begin to recognize that the very acceptance and inclusion celebrated in Gay Vallarta hides the very damage done by the claiming. If the LGBTQ+ community wants to define itself without the threat of violence or exclusion, then shouldn’t we seek an end to our own oppressive behaviors?