For those of us senselessly remaining, that exodus of tourists and snow-birds transforms San Miguel. There is a sense of relief, bitter-sweet, like summer's end must be for the residents of those northern isles. Everything slows down, like growing old or taking a day trip to the country. The streets don't entirely empty out, but the odds that you'll recognize the face of the person walking your way drastically improve. Our community becomes more obvious.
I had lunch the other day at Café 1910 with a friend who has lived in San Miguel for 20 years. We were meeting to discuss Lokkal providing him with some publicity. I prefer to do business in my home-office because the noise of public spaces distracts me. But if you want to buy me lunch, I'm yours.
As I sat down, he observed, "This place was wonderful until Don Day wrote his review of it. They always did a good business, but now you sometimes can't get a table." Later, when the food arrived, commenting on the guitarist, who was wending his way through a melancholy repertoire, my lunch partner noted, "The locals all come here to chat. This guy is just for the tourists."
My friend sang his own, familiar refrain, lamenting the passing of the old times, "I used to go up to the Jardín at the end of the day and connect with people. We've lost that." He paid me a big compliment when he noted, "I thought you had been here longer than 12 years." I have a way of fitting into yesteryear.
My local internet project promotes local flavor, highlighting and preserving what makes San Miguel unique, what keeps us weird. The old-time photo I show at the top of Lokkal's homepage, two men on horseback with a very leafy Centro in the background, reeks with authenticity.
The San Miguel Archive Project is doing important work recording interviews with old-timers. But I'm more interested in the living branch, keeping alive what still makes us exotic. The loss of the peculiar, of individualizing local culture is a world-wide problem. Globalism has its flattening, homogenizing dark side.
A woman wrote to me, asking where there might be a physical bulletin board, "like we used to have," where she could post and find announcements and messages. I'm nostalgic with the best of them, but, as a means of communication, paper, if not already dead, is dying. Lokkal is the new, electronic bulletin board, a digital town square.
What we love about San Miguel is its vibrant community. Eating lunch with R, each of us had at least five people come up and briefly say hello: "I don't want to interrupt, but..."
Community used to happen naturally... everywhere. The loss of community is responsible for most of the social and psychological ills we face. A vibrant local community depends on good communication and a good economy. That's what Lokkal is about: Building Community, Strengthening the Local Economy.
If you give people an online alternative to all those selfish selfies, all that adolescent "Look at me," then they will look at it. Lokkal is better internet, like Public Television is better TV.
The community online, the People's Internet, localism, the Yellow Pages robustly reborn for the 21st century... How's that for a business model?
It's an information economy. We can seize the means of communication. If you want to start a world-wide cultural renaissance, San Miguel de Allende is a good place to start.
