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ZIPOLITE, Mexico – When the sun starts to sink into the ocean in this idyllic beach town Mexico’s Pacific CoastA silent migration begins. Groups of mostly gay men, mostly nude people, walking towards a towering rocky ledge on the beach.
Climbing a steep staircase, they cross steep cliffs and descend to a secret cove known as Playa del Amor or the beach of love. As the sun turns into an orange orb, the sky turns mauve and the many naked bodies, Black and bronze, sinuous and sculpted, brushed in gold. When he finally submerges, the crowd bursts into applause.
“When I first saw Playa del Amor at sunset, I really felt like crying,” said 32-year-old Roberto Jerr, who has visited Zipolite for five years. “A space where you can be very free.”
Formerly a fishing village, this former fishing village has for decades been an oasis for the queer community, drawn to its golden beaches, counter-cultural vibe, and a practice of nudism that embraces all forms of bodies.
But as its popularity grows, the town is beginning to transform, attracting growing numbers of gay and straight visitors: foreigners grabbing land, hotels proliferate, social media phenomena flock to the beach, and many residents and visitors now fear what once happened. The zipolite spell can be lost forever.
“Everyone in the community should visit a place where they can feel comfortable, free, like Zipolite,” said Mr. Jerr, who is gay. “But on the other hand, there’s also this other part, this ultra mass tourism that’s starting to drain resources.”
Once a community of farmers and fishermen, Zipolite became a popular destination for European hippies and backpackers in 1970, when many came to the beaches of the state of Oaxaca to see the solar eclipse with extreme clarity. Hippie tourism has given the town a bohemian spirit – it’s one of Mexico’s few bare beaches – it’s also starting to attract queer people, who are welcomed by most residents. In February, Zipolite elected the first openly gay person to head the city council.
Such tolerant attitudes are rare outside of major cities in Mexico, where conservative Catholic values persist. Although same-sex marriage is legalized in more than half of the country, homophobic and transphobic violence is common. About 440 lesbian, gay and trans people were killed across the country between 2016 and 2020, According to Letra Ese, An advocacy group in Mexico City.
David Montes Bernal, 33, grew up a few hours after Zipolite in a conservative community where machismo and homophobia take root. At the age of about 9, the town priest did what he called “practical exorcism” to drive homosexuality away from him.
“That’s when I realized it was a hostile place,” said Mr. Bernal.
In Zipolite, she has found a comfortable place in her sexuality and a safe place in her body.
“I felt a kind of hope,” Mr. Bernal said of his first visit in 2014. “It seems like we finally have a place where we can finally be who we want to be.”
As this openness spread, the town’s LGBTQ population grew: gay bars and hotels proliferated, rainbow flags became commonplace.
However, as many locals agree, some feel that Zipolite’s identity as a laid-back town that welcomes everyone from Mexican families to Canadian retirees has eroded, becoming a gay party town.
Miguel Ángel Ziga Aragón, a local resident who is also gay and goes by the name “La Chavelona”, watched the local economy boom, not just because of gay tourism but because of the increase in tourism in general. Once home to mostly rustic huts and hammocks along the beach, Zipolite’s tourism scene has become what she calls “more VIP”: Beachfront suites now cost up to $500 a night.
The growth in tourism at Zipolite reflects a statewide trend in Oaxaca: revenue from the hotel industry from 2017 to 2019 increased by more than a third approximately $240 million. During the same period, the number of tourists visiting hotels in the coastal region, where Zipolite is located, increased by almost 40 percent to nearly 330,000 people, according to government figures.
“It’s a change that is good for the economy, but not so good for society,” said Mr. Ziga Aragon.
Along with an identity crisis, many fear an environmental crisis. It is built on mangroves; wildlife is disappearing. Residents complain of a lack of running water, which may worsen with further development.
While most residents agree that more planning is needed, some say transformation is inevitable.
“This is the life cycle of every tourist destination,” said Elyel Aquino Méndez, who runs a gay travel agency. “You should take advantage of the opportunity.”
But others fear Zipolite could get in the way of many Mexican beach towns that have become thriving resorts, such as the popular gay destination Puerto Vallarta or, more recently, Tulum. Once a bohemian paradise, the Caribbean coast of Tulum has become a lucrative real estate market teeming with luxury hotels, celebrities and, increasingly, celebrities. violence.
Pouria Farsani, 33, who lives in Stockholm, enjoyed the combination of beautiful nature and fun parties when she first visited Tulum in 2018, but when she returned last September she found she felt “like a party-colonized part of Mexico”. ”
Mr. Farsani heard about Zipolite from some Mexican friends and visited for the first time in January 2021 – was captivated.
“When I saw the other gay scenes, it felt so stereotypical,” he said. “What happened here was people of all body types, ages, socioeconomic status, we could all gather here.”
The body positivity at Zipolite is in part what makes the nudist beach special for many, gay or straight: It was particularly profound for Mr. Farsani, who has alopecia and alopecia problem.
“I’m very happy with my body but I’m not the Ken-baby type,” she said. “It scares people in Europe, where my alopecia only makes me stand out a bit more.”
Still, the hippie vibe is changing as Zipolite grows in popularity. Bars are getting louder, restaurants are getting cooler. LGBTQ tourism is also changing, becoming more and more Americanized, less diverse.
Ivanna Camarena, a transgender woman, spent six months at Zipolite last year and only met a few transgender people. “The bodies were very athletic and very masculine,” she said of the people she saw on the beach during her first few months there.
He almost remembered going to a nudist party with gay men only. “When I got there I was like, ‘Wow, what is a trans woman doing here?’ it was like. It’s like they just got weirder.”
Notable changes include those at Playa del Amor, which was once home to bonfires and guitar playing, and now often features laser lights and DJs playing house music. People would chat between different social groups; now, the beach is more reserved for cliques.
The sex scene has also evolved. While visitors, including heterosexual couples, have had sex on the beach after dark for decades, dance parties have become even more brazen in recent years, sometimes turning into group sex in the shadows.
“Each time more hedonistic, more hedonistic, more hedonistic,” says Ignacio Rubio Carriquiriborde, a sociology professor at the National Autonomous University of Mexico who has studied Zipolite for years. “There’s more of a constant party dynamic now.”
Many residents began to feel uncomfortable, and the city council recently voted to impose a 9pm beach curfew to prevent such activities.
“One thing is freedom, another is debauchery,” said Mr. Ziga Aragon. “You can have sex with whoever you want, but in private.”
For others, the concern is more environmental. Miguel Ángel López Méndez runs a small hotel near Playa del Amor and says revelers often leave the beach untidy. He recalled once, while diving from the cove, that condoms swam “like jellyfish.”
“Everyone is free to do whatever they want with their body,” he said. “The problem is, there is no awareness.”
For some gay men, the open sexuality of Playa del Amor is part of its strength.
“From your childhood you are banned from many things like ‘Don’t be like this’, ‘Don’t say that’, ‘Don’t do that,'” Bernal said. He lives in the nearby town of Puerto Ángel. “So many things are liberated when suddenly sex becomes an act of purification.”
Still, Mr. Bernal also worries about the town’s future, where tourism is booming, natural resources are scarce and so many foreigners are buying properties and land prices have become largely unaffordable for locals.
“Everyone comes here on vacation to consume something,” he said. “Part beach, part your body, part party, part nature.”
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