By Amy Hargreaves Smith
With the popularity of a digital nomad lifestyle having skyrocketed in recent years, cities such as Medellin, Mexico City and Buenos Aires, as well as great swathes of Central American coastal towns, have become bubbling hubs hosting foreign visitors. While it is encouraging to see countries like Colombia move past their tumultuous histories – having welcomed over 4.5 million tourists in 2019, compared to 668,000 in 2003 (World Bank) – it has become crucial to consider the damaging effects of such tourism on local communities, given the limited capacity for such countries to develop further holistically within the current framework.
As globalization continues to shape Latin America, stark contrasts have emerged in recent years between neighbourhoods within the same city. Upscale ‘barrios’ featuring trendy cafes, tattoo parlours, and expensive restaurants are seen seated beside areas lacking tourism infrastructure and government support. This contrast is particularly evident when comparing Medellin’s neighbourhoods of El Poblado and Popular. El Poblado’s allure to foreign tourists’ tastes, coupled with local authorities’ lack of regulation and their welcoming stance toward digital nomads, has led to an influx of foreigners driving up prices. Consequently, the area has become unaffordable for the vast majority of locals, effectively pushing them out and creating an exclusive gringo oasis in the city. The displaced locals must seek out more peripheral, often less developed areas, cutting them off from the urban centre’s economic opportunities and services.
This discussion places economic development and social equality in direct conflict: while foreigners spending their US dollar, Euro, or Pound in Latin America undoubtedly provides for these economies, it simultaneously places local communities in precarious living conditions, while stripping neighbourhoods of their cultural and historical identities. That is to say, just because the government sees an increase in tourism revenue, doesn’t mean that this money is being redistributed to support the poorer communities that are being displaced as part and parcel of this process.
A microcosm of the detrimental effects of this type of tourism and gentrification can be seen in the rise of platforms like AirBnB. “Locals cannot compete against foreign currency,” claims Sebastián Echeverri, a recent graduate from Medellin’s Universidad de Antioquia, “and the government has failed to implement sufficient policies to curb exploitation of the platform, which has become detrimental to the Colombian community at large.” Echeverri underlines AirBnB’s potential to concentrate wealth among the few, further hindering the broader population’s ability to thrive.
Such processes of gentrification widen socioeconomic gaps within cities, countries, and the Latin American region overall, as wealth and resources become concentrated in hubs dominated by the presence of foreigners. This raises the question of how we can consider migration from countries like the US, The Netherlands, and England to countries like Mexico, Colombia, and Costa Rica to be beneficial to these latter economies, when it is clear that the wealth generated is not being distributed to support more disadvantaged local communities and smooth development.
Moreover, while gentrification may bring infrastructural improvements, these benefits are often only designed to serve new, wealthier residents rather than existing ones. This trend is evident in the rise of foreign-owned infrastructure projects in Central American coastal towns, where upscale hotels, restaurants, and bars dominate. Not only does this clearly target an audience earning significantly more than the Tico average wage, but the industrial and abrasive measures used also cause destruction to natural habitats, pollution, and deforestation, much to local dismay.
For instance, numerous infrastructure projects are promoted as ‘eco-friendly’ and ‘green,’ but in reality, many foreign business owners tend to isolate themselves in closed communities, lacking social integration and failing to contribute to the local community with the income they generate. “Money has the capacity to do this, and to play with the territories of regions other than your own,” reflects Luis Gómez, a Costa Rican who works for an environmental NGO in Santa Teresa, an immensely popular surf town on the Nicoya Peninsula. This domination of foreign business operations in local spaces, to the extent of displacement and environmental degradation, paints a very ugly picture of what is often perceived as innocent ‘tourism’ from a Western perspective.
In the end, while the rise of tourism and the digital nomad lifestyle in Latin America might seem like a positive development on the surface, it is crucial to look deeper into the effects on local communities. As foreign investments reshape neighbourhoods, what happens to the rich cultural identities that make these places unique? What happens to the members of these communities who are systematically denied the fruits of over-tourism and gentrification of their neighbourhood, or of their city?
The challenge lies in finding a balance. How can local governments and foreign entities work together to ensure that the benefits of tourism reach everyone, not just a select few? As we navigate these changes, it’s vital to keep these questions in mind and consider the true cost of development. Will we continue to see vibrant communities thrive, or will they become mere backdrops for tourism? The answers to these questions will shape the future of Latin America as a destination and the lives of those who call it home.
Amy Hargreaves Smith is the current Editor-in-Chief of El Cortao’ and student of International Development at King’s College London. Her writing covers political ecology, postdevelopment theory, & Latin American affairs, often discussing how these intersect.