In all languages, all worlds, it's about the knitting.
These are photos taken in Kathy's, a yarn store in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. She's an expat from San Francisco who sells yarn from her living room: knock or ring on Aldama 27, and if she's home, you'll have a great time talking with her and looking at some terrific yarn.
The "store" is down the street from the B&B we stayed in, and it was never open when I went by. On the last try, a gringa was looking in the window, and when I asked her if she knew what the hours were, she said "Oh, you ring or knock. Kathy's a friend--I'll ring." And she did, and even though we caught Kathy fresh out of the shower, it was no problem for her to throw on something presentable and let us in.
She was also gracious enough to give us a tour of her house, which was (like 99% of San Miguel) pretty amazing.
For me, someone who has to touch, feel, smell, or fondle yarn everyday, this was a great discovery, and I had to get in, come hell or high water. When I was in San Miguel two years ago, visiting Allie , the only yarn store was on Insurgentes (it's still there, up the street from the great gorditas place) and sold bags of pretty coarse acrylic (no, I'm not a fiber snob, soft acrylic is fine, coarse is not).
So the moral to this story is: no matter where you go, someone, somewhere is going to have her hands in fiber.