Atención Interactions: I Just Came For A Recommendation

By Lisa Babincsak

There's a special kind of theater in San Miguel—and it's not at the Angela Peralta.

It's in the comments section of your local Facebook group. You know the one.

Someone asks a simple question: "Can anyone recommend a plumber?" And within six comments, someone's accusing someone else of being a communist, three people are arguing about ethics, one person's plugging their cousin's business (who lives in León), and someone else jumps in with "Well, I don't need a plumber because I installed my own bidet and I'm very happy with it."

This is the magic of San Miguel Facebook groups. You didn't mean to spend an hour reading. You were just checking notifications. But suddenly you're emotionally invested in whether Karen's dog actually bit the delivery guy or if he stepped on a loose cobblestone and panicked.

It's not that the people are unkind. It's that they are… passionate. Very. Passionate. About everything. Where to buy wine. Who has the best tacos. How to pronounce "Querétaro." (That one went 73 comments deep.)

The thing is, these groups have become essential. They're where you learn which restaurants have closed, which streets are torn up this week, and whether that loud boom at 2:00 a.m. was fireworks or something more concerning. (It's always fireworks.) There are saints in the comments who answer questions kindly, who share resources, who gently redirect someone posting misinformation. But there are also the keyboard gladiators, ready to battle over almond milk or parking on Zacateros.

Some people go to the park for entertainment. I read the threads. I've seen heartfelt stories. I've seen passive-aggressive wars over pizza crust. And once, I saw someone ask where to buy a blender and get told to "go back to your country." Honestly? It's hard to look away. But somewhere between the snark, the soapbox speeches, and the surprise turn into political philosophy, you'll find what you came for: a decent plumber, an honest mechanic, or someone selling barely-used patio chairs for 200 pesos. It's not always pretty. But it's always San Miguel.

Regards,

Lisa

Lisa Babincsak is a San Miguel real estate agent with Berkshire Hathaway Colonal Homes, interior designer, and animal rescuer who also writes personal and soulful stories beyond this column.