Anamaria lives in a condominium complex called Rincon del Cielo (Corner of Heaven). As a single woman living alone, she likes the security of a gated community, of 24-hour doorman services.

Considerable thought was put into features that add a touch of elegance to the community: an impressive gate, beautiful landscaping, a modern fountain and decorative pool in the entryway. For some reason, the fountain hasn't run for months. Whether it's part of a water conservation policy or simply a relaxed attitude toward maintenance, I can't tell.

Rincon del Cielo is a warm, comfortable, pristine community. Rows of townhouses are arranged beside wide lawns and a swimming pool. Individual residences all have front porches designed for living and entertaining. Children are welcome here and add a sense of energy and fun to the ambience.

All of the utilities are underground. Outdoor lighting makes the common areas welcome places to hang out after dark. Cable keeps residents hooked into the outside world; many have installed WiFi hotspots. Except for the palm trees, this could be St. Cloud, Minnesota. Well, except for the palms and the climate. The low in St. Cloud was 15º last night.

I don't want to encourage too many of you northerners to swell the population of San Miguel de Allende. Nevertheless I can't restrain myself from mentioning that even though real estate prices here have skyrocketed, you can buy a two-bedroom home in Rincon del Cielo for about $120,000 US. Besides being a painter, Anamaria is a real estate agent, and she'd be happy to sell you one. (That plug ought to be worth another lunch.)

She is also a superb cook. Here she is in her modern kitchen preparing lunch. Tile counters, drop-in range, blonde cabinets, a microwave and a fancy coffeemaker. Art hangs on the walls, pictures of her grandchildren are taped to the refrigerator. How is Anamaria any different from her sisters in Sunnyvale, California?

Lunch is a treat: machacado con huevo (dried beef with eggs). Similar to beef jerky, machacado is, according to Anamaria, a specialty of Monterrey, her home town. Elsewhere in Mexico, machacado is called machaca, but whatever it's called, she assures me the best comes from Monterrey. If Anamaria says it, it must be true. It's sometimes eaten out of hand, like we do with jerky, but most commonly, it's incorporated into other dishes.

The beef used in machacado is not cooked. The raw beef is cut along the grain into thin sheets and hung on lines to dry. The finished product is tough and chewy, so for use in dishes like machacado con huevo, it has been pounded while dry to soften it. You can buy it already pounded.

We sat down to eat at a table perfectly set for luncheon. Our meal consisted of machacado con huevo, frijoles negros, tortillas, aguacate, salsa verde, y uvas. It was delicious and utterly delightful.

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In the United States, the middle class emerged after the Second World War and changed the country. Class distinctions were diminished, authorities were held accountable, sheeplike acceptance of corruption and privilege turned to skepticism, intolerance, and outrage.

Anamaria, her children and her friends, and millions of Mexicans like her are beginning a similar transformation of this country. Middle-class Mexicans are less willing to accept extortion. They value punctuality and competence. They demand respect from their leaders and service providers. They abhor corruption.

A few years ago, a Telmex manager, answering a reporter's question about why he didn't restore service to thousands of telephones that had failed due to flooding, responded that he hadn't noticed because, you know, people were always complaining. He was fired.

Now, if they'd only fix the fountain at Rincon del Cielo...