Miss Gay Ometepe

As some may recall, I mentioned in my last entry that Harry, a cook who works here and who happens to be gay, had invited us to some type of Gay Pride fiesta on Ometepe last weekend. Unfortunately, the fiesta—which was actually to be a beauty pageant dubbed Miss Gay Ometepe—was cancelled when the church fathers got wind of it and put the smack down on homosexuality. But the gay community of Ometepe refused to be so easily defeated, and they bravely forged onward—rescheduling the event at a different venue for last night.

I worked hard this week to make sure I could go. After we got home from Laguna de Apoyo, I went to the forest on Wednesday with Pablo the botany student and we worked on identifying some trees. Then I spent the rest of the week collecting behavioral data and using the toughness tester. And it rained. And rained, and rained. The seasons changed so quickly it was like someone had flicked a switch. Almost overnight, the forest went from brown and dry to a green, green, green, tangled mess of vines. Its official now—the rainy season has begun.

Sunday, the day of the pageant, dawned. In the morning, Harry worked in the kitchen, and as he was washing dishes, he explained to me the basis of the pageant. Much like any regular beauty pageant, the Miss Gay Ometepe contest would feature a casual wear, evening gown, and swimming suit competition, plus a session in which each candidate was given a question to answer. However, all of the contestants would be gay men from Ometepe who were dressed as women. The pageant was to be held in a community called San Jose—which is still an hour away by car even though the road has recently been renovated. Esther (one of the girls who works here) had arranged for a truck to go from Mérida to San Jose, and when I asked her, she told me it would be fine for me and Rob to come along.

Long about 9 o’clock at night, Rob and me, and Daraysi, and several other local Mérida people piled into the back of the pick up truck and drove off into the night. The ride over was beautiful. A million stars glittered in the purplish-blue sky, and the moon—nearly full and shimmering gold—hung low on the horizon. The dark silhouette of Volcan Maderas loomed large behind it all. After about an hour of hanging on to the rails on the truck bed, we arrived in San Jose. It was a fiesta all right. There were strobe lights, 15 speakers (2 would probably have sufficed), and everyone was decked out and dancing. After maybe an hour or so of this, I really began to wonder… so when does the Miss Gay Ometepe pageant begin?

Finally the contestants took the dance floor. In addition to Harry, there were 3 other men vying for the Miss Gay Ometepe title. Harry’s first outfit was sort of a glittery red gown, while the others were more scantily clad in belly-baring halter tops and scandalously short skirts. Below is a photo of the 4 contestants. Harry is on the far right, modeling for the camera. Alvaro (the field station manager) is dressed in khaki and standing in the middle.
"Cassandra"

There are a few Gringos in the crowd. Can you spot the Ragfields?


After a brief introduction of the candidates, the music started blaring again and everyone (well, not Rob and me) took to the dance floor. A bit before this, Rob and I had noticed that there were two police officers milling about the party (one had a machine gun, the other had a pistol). “Let’s hope they’re not from the Catholic Church,” Rob said. Alvaro spoke with the police officers and told us that they said the swimsuit competition would not be permitted. I guess this is sort of what happened last week, only that instead of out-lawing just the swimsuit competition, they refused to let any of the pageant proceed.

Harry makes friends with the policeWell, maybe Alvaro had it wrong about the swimsuit competition because next thing we knew, the contestants began parading out in bikinis. That was a sight. We didn’t take any pictures of that because it actually seemed kind of dirty. Harry—whose stage name was Wendy—was much more conservatively dressed. Here is a photo below. (For other Futurama aficionados, we thought he looked like Coilette, of Robonia.)


The swimsuit competition was followed by another interlude of loud music and dancing, and then round 3 of the pageant—the question and answer session—began. I thought Harry’s response was poignant. His question had something to do with the issue of discrimination, and his response included a powerful explanation about how he wanted to participate in the pageant to bring focus to the gay community and to foster understanding. Well, at least that’s what I got from it. The candidates also performed a dance to the song “I Will Survive,” sung in Spanish (Yo viviré) by the woman (well, actually the man) who is wearing the short red dress.

Harry with adoring fans in the background


There was more dance-party dancing by all the party’s attendees while the judges tabulated the results. I should point out that by this point it was quite obvious that Harry was a clear favorite, at least of the crowd. I think half of Mérida must have somehow trucked over there just to scream and shout and cheer for him. I’m not sure how exactly the results were tabulated, but before I knew it, Harry was called to the front of the stage and the judges placed a sparkling tiara on his head. Harry was the new Miss Gay Ometepe 2007!


Harry gave a brief speech, indicating that all of the pageant’s participates were winners; there were no losers, and then the loud dance party resumed with gusto. Rob and I finally got home a little before 2:30 in the morning, so needless to say, I am not going out to the forest today. I think all that fresh (and dusty) night air I got while riding in the back of the truck gave me another eye infection, so I’m hoping to dose up on the anti-biotics and be able to go out to the forest tomorrow. At any rate, it was a very interesting experience last night. It was a little weird, because I have a lot of gay friends, and I can't imagine any of them wanting to dress up as women and participate in a beauty pageant, but I figure, this is how Harry wants to express himself, so more power to him. Nicaraguans seem to love beauty pageants of all forms—even when the contestants are all gay men dressed up as women. I was glad to see so many people—both gay and straight—out there supporting Harry and the other contestants. It was a little perplexing though, considering that “machismo” is so prevalent in this country. But this investigation would be a job for the cultural anthropologists; I’m happy just sticking to the monkeys for now.

Thanks for reading!