Around the month of July, a college colleague wrote to me: “My boyfriend had booked the ticket to Nicaragua a long time ago.” I was aware of the situation of violence and I did not want to lose the money. Until then, the police and police forces had killed 400 people and the list of kidnapped, wounded and disappeared was increasing every day. In that context, my friend's concern seemed understandable but very surreal and light. The question is not whether it is dangerous for a tourist to go on holiday to a country in armed conflict, but whether its presence is adequate and what its role is. Surf on the wonderful beaches of San Juan del Sur and try to play in the evenings, while locals build barricades or wake up from their exiled relatives?

The digital magazine Bacanalnica has directed tourists who have this dilemma an article full of irony: “Oh, chelito (foreign white), I’ll explain. Beitu, the beaches are there but you won't see anyone bathing. All the cities I recommended to you are destroyed, empty and under military occupation. From six o'clock in the afternoon there is an unofficial curfew, because at that time Hilux comes out full of paramilitaries with the intention of killing and kidnapping people on behalf of Daniel. I would tell you they won’t do you anything for being a tourist, but those people have put fire on a whole family, including two young children, so in case I don’t promise you.”

In left-wing environments, the Tourist go home claim has a great success. Because in Donostia and Bilbao the overcrowding of tourism is expelling the locals, crumbling the soul of the old and wearing the flysch of Gaztelugatxe and Zumaia, which have appeared in the Game of Thrones series. We are disturbed by the ignorant and indifferent attitude of the giris, do they not realize that in our environment nobody drinks indentation? Sincerely, do we think that when we go to Havana to drink mojitos we are neither guiris nor travelers? That the inhabitants of San Cristobal de las Casas do not perceive the effects of large-scale tourism? That Machu Picchu does not suffer wear and tear?

My friends have posted holiday photos on Instagram: Cambodia, Thailand, Iceland, Croatia, Costa Rica. I felt a little envious, but I reaffirm my commitment to enjoy nearby havens at Illa de Arousa and La Vera. From time to time, I dreamed of exciting trips, let's say Cape Verde. But I'm getting more and more uncomfortable to know that I can take the map of the world and, for reasons of race and class, go anywhere: because I can pay the airline card, because in ancient and impoverished colonies, life is cheap, because at the airport I'm not going to deport.

It is clear to me that international tourism is not sustainable and the passion for the consumption of experiences is capitalist. It is also clear to me that these ideological reflections and contradictions are the concerns of a privileged one. I can easily give up tourism because my profession gives me the ability to travel frequently and the ethical alibi. The key can be what to do with that privilege. What can my role be. To begin with, it is clear to me that I have a responsibility to denounce the repression of Daniel Ortega for enjoying the Caribbean of Nicaragua, volcanoes and lakes.