Navigating Friendship:
The Charm of Mexican Pueblo Life
I recently read an article in the New York Times about how to make friends as an adult. A completely valid discussion, especially considering how much harder it can be to connect with others now compared to our childhoods. Life moves quickly; we are busy with work, partners, and children who often serve as our built-in besties. Additionally, as adults, we tend to be more self-aware, grappling with social hesitations that didn’t exist during our younger years. Then there is the internet and social media platforms that provide disposable interludes of quasi-connection and do zero for our social skills.
Yet here in San Miguel de Allende, a colorful town 6,000 feet up in the heart of Mexico, friendship arrives differently. The societal construct is special. This pueblo is known for its friendliness and community, and the social circles and connections you crave often reveal themselves in wonderfully unexpected ways.
As adults, we tend to become more selective and intentional about whom we share our time with, because time itself seems more scarce and precious. In my twenties, I was eager to socialize with just about everyone. I wanted to meet and know a wide array of personalities, many of whom I might not be as inclined to engage with today. Or at least, not on purpose. Back then, I was still exploring both others and myself, shaping my identity amid a diverse crowd. While I still cherish a wide variety of friendships, my approach to forming deeper connections is now more discerning; I’m more selective with whom I hit that “repeat” button with.
In school, it felt like at least half of our classmates were potential friends. We were in a small space, surrounded daily by peers our age from the same region, and friendships were fluid—one week Danny was our best friend, and the next, it was definitely Lisa.
Living in a smaller pueblo mirrors a similar school dynamic. Here, we inhabit a compact geographical space and encounter the same faces daily—whether at the grocery store, the gym, or the corner coffee shop. And once we’ve seen a familiar face a handful of times we have to start acknowledging them in some way, unless we want things to get awkward. I call these events “pueblo fever.” When we cross paths with someone so frequently, we start to wonder if we’ve actually been introduced or if we’re simply seeing them around town so often that it feels familiar. Regardless, it opens a great opportunity to strike up a conversation.
In San Miguel, we greet one another on the streets. As we pass by, we acknowledge others with eye contact, smiles, waves, nods, and friendly words like “buenos días” or “adiós.” These small gestures are a profound part of life here, fostering a sense of community, care, and acceptance.
Rushing around while glued to your phone is nearly impossible. Aside from the slower pace of life and cultural norms, the narrow sidewalks and cobblestone streets will quickly remind you to keep your phone down and head up.
For many, moving to Mexico means transitioning from an individualistic society to a collectivist one. Mexico is simply more inclusive. Here, multigenerational relationships thrive, whereas life in the US can feel much more segregated. While efficiency is king in the US, relationships are paramount in Mexico. Ultimately, making friends in San Miguel is less about networking and more about fostering a deep sense of belonging over time. Coming from San Francisco, California, I appreciate that conversations here don’t start with, “So, what do you do?” There are so many other dynamic ways and common topics to open conversations that this becomes a moot point.
When I was new to town, my personal rule was, when in doubt, always say yes. I came here alone and didn’t know anyone who lived here, and creating an authentic social foundation was a priority. So those evenings that I knew of a party happening yet felt too tired to go? Ni modo – say YES. Get out and go. You just never know who you will meet. And trust, you will meet people.
While foreigners make up about 10–12% of our community, there is also a significant population of Mexican local transplants. One of my first and dearest friends moved here from a finance career in Mexico City just months before I did, and immersed himself in San Miguel’s vast and dynamic art world. We’ll both soon be celebrating our ten year “San Miguelversary.” That friendship has had a beautiful ripple effect, opening doors for many other local Mexican connections. There is something about San Miguel that attracts people from both near and far as a place to reinvent themselves and seek a fresh start—a quality appealing to every demographic, not just those from outside of the country.
If you are a foreigner, building genuine friendships with Mexican locals is vital. By making an effort to integrate and learn the language rather than staying within a “gringo bubble,” you show a level of humility and respect that goes a long way toward finding true happiness, independence and comfort in a new adopted country.
San Miguel is relatively small with a population of approximately 180,000 people, yet always full of social opportunities. You can meet people in favorite local restaurants, yoga classes, volunteering, live music events, newcomers’ groups, estate sales, or while walking your dog in the park. However, what sets San Miguel apart is its heightened openness. People are more inclined to say hello and engage in conversation. The atmosphere is comfortable, relaxed and joyful, making it easy to meet new faces. Sometimes it feels as if everyone is in “travel mode” – extra friendly and less reserved. Yet nurturing these relationships of course, requires effort. If you’re not particularly adept at this, don’t worry—numerous chances exist to reconnect with acquaintances with or without your own personal labors. There’s a unique serendipity here; countless stories abound of people unexpectedly running into childhood classmates on the street after decades apart or encountering the person who sold you that piece of art earlier in the day at the same private dinner party that same evening. After a while, it feels like we’re all just one or two degrees of separation from one another.
Some claim that there’s a touch of magic in residing atop a bed of crystals. I believe that living in this town allows for connections to oneself and to others that are truly beyond words. It’s a celebration of culture, a reflection of pueblo life, and the delightful charm that defines San Miguel.
