Today, Miguel again lives in Ciudad Sandino. The community began as a shantytown created by many displacements. Most notably, when the earthquake of 1972 destroyed much of Managua, the dictator Anastasio Somoza moved thousands of people who lost their homes to the western edge of the city: Ciudad Sandino. Waves of people also moved there in 1998 after Hurricane Mitch.

A backyard view of Ivania's home shows their house of cinder blocks and corrugated metal in Ciudad Sandino, Nicaragua.

No accurate maps exist of the area because houses areas to spread as more and more people move there. With more than 150,000 people living in tightly packed homes made mostly of cinder blocks and corrugated metal, it is the most densely populated area in Nicaragua. There are only two paved streets, no garbage pick-up or sewage system and, as Miguel stated, virtually no jobs.

Walking through the streets, the poverty is striking. There are small children with dark brown hair turning blonde from malnutrition. Shops selling chips and fruit are set up in front of homes to try to earn cordobas, the Nicaraguan currency, to supplement small wages from the zona franca or free trade zone near the city. Women working in these foreign-owned factories earn less than $15 every two weeks.

Ivania and Miguel talk openly about their lives. "Ivania always supported me even before I was out," Miguel explains. "She always knew deep within that I liked men. She saw that I was really affected by the discrimination that I faced."

Today, Miguel’s family is his sister Ivania, his niece Wendy and his nephew Brian. There has been little time when Ivania and Miguel have been separated. Although they are linked by blood, there are no bonds between Miguel and his two brothers. They do not support his sexual orientation, among other things, and are not really a part of Miguel’s life. Ivania’s home, in an unsafe, secluded area of Ciudad Sandino, is still a safe haven for Miguel in many ways.

“I am not always acting totally gay all the time— throwing out feathers or flaunting who I sleep with. I am bisexual, but I have my privacy also,” he says. “I sing and dance, and there’s no problem because of that. That’s at home, but if I am in the street in my neighborhood, I think it would go very badly.”

Miguel leans over to kiss his 18-month-old niece, Wendy.

Ivania supports Miguel’s bisexual identity. She is his “bible” to whom he shares everything. Miguel says, “In my house, I am free. I can talk to my sister about everything. She knows me most.” With many Nicaraguan families sharing very close quarters, it is often very difficult to find space to be with lovers or partners, especially for sexual minorities. Ivania has been instrumental in supporting Miguel through his struggles and helping Miguel to accept his sexuality.

Despite the problems he faces when it comes to his sexuality, Miguel worries the most about his sister and her family. Many days, her family goes without food. It is hard to find work because she has no way to pay someone to watch the children. It is against this backdrop that many Nicaraguans struggle with their sexual identity. Coming out just adds another hurdle to an already difficult life. Hiding one’s sexuality is another struggle.

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