I’m Harry Alvarez, a travel entrepreneur, storyteller, and advocate for more equitable, locally-led tourism. As the co-founder and owner of Offbeat Travel, I’ve spent years working to redefine the way people experience destinations—through immersive, community-driven travel that benefits the places we visit.

My passion for travel goes beyond just exploration. I believe in travel as a tool for economic empowerment, cultural preservation, and meaningful connection. My work focuses on ensuring that the communities at the heart of travel experiences have ownership over their stories, businesses, and the opportunities that tourism creates.

But my journey with place, identity, and belonging started long before I ever entered the travel industry.

On a recent trip to New York, the reality of being transnational hit me again. I grew up between knocking down mangos on my parents’ street in Santo Domingo and playing handball behind my elementary school in the Bronx. Even Santo Domingo never quite felt like “home” in the way it was supposed to—my parents had settled there because it was the capital, but their true roots trace back to Castañuelas, a small town in Monte Cristi near the Haitian border. I’ve always felt like I’m one layer removed from the places I call home.

The more you move, the more you travel, the clearer it becomes: home isn’t a place, it’s a state of mind. I felt completely at home in Costa Rica when I lived with the Maleku Indigenous community for two months in 2008 and in the years I spent returning after. To this day, when I speak with Ticos, my accent shifts—“mae” and “Pura Vida” slipping naturally into my vocabulary. New Orleans became home for a decade, and in many ways still is. The city has a way of pulling you in, of making you a part of it. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t know exactly what it means to miss New Orleans.

It’s easy to let imposter syndrome or nativism make you feel like you don’t fully belong anywhere. But I’ve come to see it differently. There’s a privilege in calling multiple places home. New York gave me my directness. Santo Domingo taught me grit. New Orleans ignited my passion. Costa Rica shaped my laid-back Pura Vida approach. Every place I’ve lived has left its mark on me, and those experiences fuel my work in travel today.

Now, with a family of my own, my perspective has shifted even further. Home isn’t a dot on the map—it’s wherever I can be with my partner and two sons. A corner of an apartment, a hotel room, a train car, an airplane seat. Home is where the heart is.

This space is where I’ll be sharing my thoughts—on travel, culture, sustainability, and what it means to belong. Whether you’re here as a fellow traveler, industry professional, or just someone curious about the intersection of tourism and social impact—welcome. Let’s connect.