By Mike Stoltz
I like the holidays, the food, the parties, exploring new ways of unwinding, and just the down time with colleagues, friends, and family. It seems like a good opportunity to balance life’s endless duties, griefs, and bad hair days with some fun, eating poorly, and behaving with general insouciance and abandon.
I recently went to one of my first Christmas-type parties in San Miguel, organized by this publication, “Atención”. It was a great opportunity to meet some of my colleagues and staff, who I only knew from countless emails and phone calls. Travis Bembenek, the publisher of “Atención” and now “Mexico News Daily” as well, is a genuine advocate of shining a positive light on San Miguel de Allende, yet he still let’s me lament on it’s imperfections as a number of you seem to like as evidenced by those quiet emails you send to me. Bembenek gave a mid-dinner talk that included many accolades and appreciative words to his dedicated staff. Bembenek should really be a poster boy for the Chamber of Commerce here, and should get a nice gift card this Christmas from the mayor, in my opinion.
After a toast to the next chapter at “Atención,” he saw I had arrived (I’m always late), and with enthusiasm and nothing short of determination he approached me and said, “Mike, I have the perfect story for you—“To Costco Or Not To Costco.” I had an idea where this was going, and it might not be the direction the guy who gives me a full page in his paper wants it to go. But I can’t be anything but authentic in these columns, so I thoughtfully replied, “But Travis, Americans, like most humans, are creatures of habit. Costco is like a warm, fuzzy blanket to us. It’s like beef stew, the Dodgers, and forced air heating. And Travis, have you seen the price of paper towels in San Miguel!” Bembenek, determined, replied, “Expats are missing out on the integration process of the culture here and are really hurting the local trades and families by shopping outside the community.” He was so sincere in his protestations that he was hard to ignore. My guest, Mauricio, said to me, “You know Mike, I would not go anywhere else for the bulk of my provisions than Petra’s tiendita. You wanna know why? The gossip! For example, I would never know of the passing of a lady neighbor down the road, the posadas, fiestas, or any and all immediate news of the barrio.” That is an unrealized benefit of shopping locally. Who doesn’t like a good gossip! So with that I decided to pursue Bembenek’s notions of Coscexodus.
En route, to Doña Petra’s tiendita to explore her vast, local, essential offerings and see what kind of gossip I could unearth, I stopped in for lunch at Bananas on the Ancha de San Antonio, and started yacking with the owner, Sharon. I’m a former restaurateur, among other things, so we spoke about business and the number of expat and Mexican cars in town, which has doubled in the past six years on the Ancha, and some of her business frustrations. She told me, “People would be surprised how little we make in spite of how full our restaurants appear and how much traffic there is. Spending money out of town only rubs salt in our wounds. Because of our geographic location, our cost of goods is about 25% higher than elsewhere, yet our prices are on a par with those in Queretaro.” This seemed an astonishing fact from a qualified local business owner; the big box trajectory was starting to develop some teeth.
The next day I took a trip to Costco for a photo and of course a paper towel purchase. The 102 miles round trip cost approximately US$9. I did indeed save a little more than a dollar for each of the 12 rolls of paper towels, but the gas cost ate into that saving. What I was really astonished to learn was my own weakness in succumbing to the idea of scarcity, privilege, and ingenious marketing. I wound up leaving Costco P13,000 poorer, with enough Albacore tuna to last through next summer. What happened? Was I obliged to buy because the friendly folks at Costco were so generous with those Manchego cheese wedges on Aisle 32? Did I buy so much because I felt, subconsciously, that I needed to recoup my membership fee of US$60? Or maybe deep down in my psyche I wanted to exploit my exclusivity and privilege by showing my neighbors that I have this special place as a consumer that entitles me to buy “stuff” others can’t get because of this membership?
In the final analysis, I think Costco does give ex-pats a sense of comfort, and even a bargain for big commercial operations and large households. Still, I do like chatting with the local neighborhood businesses for those invaluable insights that help me learn about my community as well as helping those struggling businesses that pay more for goods because of our unique geography. The financial aspect is that in a zero-sum game I’d be on the losing side. I don’t think I will renew my Costco membership next month. I think I’ll stick around here, pay a buck more for my paper towels, and probably make my publisher happy.
For any thoughtful ideas or comments you can email Vmstoltz@gmail.com
