"We began visiting at least
twice a year and immediately I knew there was a
market for good, precise information. I wanted to
do a book at that time and kept my fingers crossed
no one would do one until I could live here. A
good guidebook was inevitable and could I do it
first?"
Joseph Harmes, San Miguel Guidebook Joseph
Harmes did it first. His fun-to-read new guidebook
on San Miguel de Allende was published at the end
of last year of interest not only as a practical
pointer at what can be enjoyed in the picturesque
colonial town inhabited by anywhere between 1,000
to 10,000 gringos, but also as a fresh and
inspiring approach to guidebook writing.
The Best of San Miguel de Allende by veteran
reporter Harmes (from The News, through Time and
Newsweek, to People magazine) is a guidebook with
a personal touch, when many of the major brands
are written and updated by many different pens.
This makes it rather important that the "voice" of
the author is likeable or at least engaging, and
Harmes' breezy wit carries this task with panache.
The honesty of the book (in the sense of "No one
knew I was writing it. No free food, no free
drinks, no quid pro quo in any sense") is a source
of pride to the author, and also is evident in his
comfortable, confident and convincing style, fluid
and on the edge of wry without being in the least
derisive.
One of the novelties of this book is that it is
bilingual and, Harmes says, except for "The
People's Guide to Mexico," it may be the only
guidebook with a sense of humor.
Some examples of the latter virtue would be
Harmes' headings, some chuckle worthy ("Best
Person Shamed by an Ugly Street Named for Him,"
"Best Clichés You Want to Forget," "Best Feud
Between Ex-Pats") and others downright intriguing
"Best Place to Get Pregnant" (as distinguished
from "Best Places for Public Sex"), "Best Places
to Ponder Existentialism," "Best Places to Dump a
Body." Others, still, are a category I would like
to see a nationwide list for, such as "Best
Alternatives to Gigante" or even the surreal
injunction at least I take it that way "Best
Places to Think You 're Invisible."
It is a book that twinkles with joie de vivre,
especially if you are a traveler for whom the
(slightly) absurd is essential seasoning for a
tasty experience-fest. As Harmes says, "In the
introduction I try to explain that San Miguel de
Allende is not a well-organized Disneyland and it
might even become a victim of its own success."
It's not for people who don't want to mingle or
demand their own tourist bubble: "I steer away
from two groups," says Harmes, "Gringos who refuse
to learn Spanish and gringos who bitch, whine and
moan about everything in Mexico."
Harmes cleverly manages to keep the "Best"
format one he notes can become tedious ("Best of
lists have been a staple of many publications for
decades if not centuries and even become tiresome
at the end of any year, best movies of 2005, best
gadgets, etc.") frolicsome by interspersing a heap
of serious listings with light relief.
For example the maybe-a-little-dull (unless you
are looking for these things) ones would be: Best
Gift Shop; Best Glassware; Best Graphic Design;
Best Greeting Cards (a good category, I think, on
reflection and very San Miguelesque, although
"Best Sex Toys" is even better) with "Best
Groceria."
The entry for this runs thus: "Don't be a dumb
gringo. There is no such word as grocería meaning
grocery store. Grosería in Spanish is defined as a
vulgar or coarse word or expression. If you ask
for the best grosería, the answer might offend
you. Best to use the word abarrotería instead."
There is little frivolous about Harmes' choices
however, ones that make a lot of sense to a
habitual guidebook user (it's happened to me at
least): "I gave a lot of thought to the
traditional guidebook: have a restaurant section
where each restaurant is listed with a
description. My problem always has been, when I
was on the 29th restaurant and decided I was
hungry for enchiladas, then I had to go back and
look at dozens of descriptions again. Why not get
to the point? You want enchiladas, here's the best
options."
There is also the writer / compiler's
perspective (not usually incorporated into brand
name guidebooks): "Secondly, I literally have file
cabinets filled with information about San Miguel
de Allende and Mexico. There are countless fun
little facts that, if blended into long
descriptions, would get lost. So, if I thought
about the leaky roof at Gigante during the rainy
season, why not just dub it the Best Leaky Roof?"
My favorite example of the author's honesty (I
am not so impressed by best restaurants as
experience has taught me that just because you pay
for your own meals, doesn't mean that a good
experience in a place will repeat itself when you
go back the second or 25th time) is his justified
disregard for trying to get to the bottom of the
statistics pile.
"I could write dry passages about the size of
San Miguel de Allende's gringo population or have
fun and call it Best Bad Math and cite a dozen
publications giving wildly divergent views,"
Harmes says.
The fact that the book is in English reading
one way, Spanish the other, is telling beyond
sensible marketing.
"I found it kind of insulting that there was
very little for sale locally in Spanish …The
Mexican market has been ignored for a long time.
It is not uncommon to see a Mexican visiting
Oaxaca, for example, reading an English-language
guide book."
This is a phenomenon that is rapidly being
corrected, but it is interesting to see how in a
country where tourism is the third industry
certain niches are still left wide open, and how
many downright clueless people there are working
in the field.
As a writer who has worked for different
guidebook companies (and as such, somewhat
maligned by Harmes' introduction) since 2000, I
have learned that there is a huge gap between the
information that foreign (and national) tourists
want and need, and that which municipal and state
tourism offices provide. Meanwhile, federal
tourism departments fund major (and interesting)
studies, whose results rarely filter through to
tourism authorities in destinations.
Harmes' book is an example of how much there is
to be learned from the outsider's considered gaze,
and how much can be created through individual
initiative when not obstructed by bureaucracy.
"I've been a reporter for 30 years and reading
everything on San Miguel de Allende, asking
questions and walking almost every street. It just
took curiosity and shoe leather to push the book
well beyond the obvious," the author says.
It is also an example of how important it is
not to be tongue-tied by fear of offending. There
is a belief throughout the country on the part of
tourism professionals that to say anything
"negative" about a destination is tantamount to
high treason. This is disastrous coming from
people who are very often out of touch with the
quirkier elements that make a destination
attractive, because it results in a form of
censorship that represses diversity and presents
only a prettified and boring image.
I asked Harmes if he were not a little reticent
on some of the uglier sides of Mexican culture,
and his reply was: "On page 109 I go after the
Best Eyesores (Oxxo, high voltage lines and
antennas disrupting ridge lines, the box built by
Teléfonos de México for its new offices and urban
sprawl). The book discusses ugly streets (page
115) and acknowledges there is crime with Best
Ways To Lose Your Wallet Or Purse on page 128. I
say how polluted the lake is from raw sewage. I
don't ignore San Miguel de Allende's problems."
Since Harmes doesn't have to please anyone but
himself, I knew he would be able to say what San
Miguel lacked and where there was room for
improvement: "San Miguel de Allende needs a good
museum. After all, along neighboring Dolores
Hidalgo it is part of Mexico's cradle of
independence. Because it competes with the
capital, Guanajuato, in the fields of arts and
culture, it seems state authorities have been
reluctant to invest in facilities here which might
detract from Guanajuato's reputation as a cultural
center. This is a town where residents and
visitors seem to have been starved for
information."
And I did not expect Harmes' frankness with
respect to the image the town has of being
wealthy, insular and self-regardingly gringo:
"Foreigners other than those of the United States
seem to avoid San Miguel de Allende because of its
reputation as a gringo enclave. Go to Guanajuato
and less than an hour away and you'll hear a dozen
languages and accents on the street. Try to visit
Oaxaca or Chiapas in August and you can't book a
room because of European visitors on holiday.
Frankly, foreign visitors other than those from
the United States are disappointed."
This is a very interesting phenomenon, and an
insight into what a gringo community in Mexico
thinks of itself could be rich ground for study
but someone has to say it first.
"I think many foreign residents here are
oblivious to the fact 'gringo' is not really a
term of endearment," Harmes observes.
Barbara Kastelein writes a weekly column on
travel for The Herald.
sirio@data.net.mxres
