Through the World Press Institute fellowship, I discovered that small towns often tell bigger stories about what makes life worth living. Days ago, I was in Nogales, a small town in southern Arizona on the United States-Mexico border. Far from being quiet or forgotten, the town thrives on the movement of millions of people crossing the border each year, mostly to shop, eat, or simply take a walk.
Earlier in my WPI journey, I visited Grand Marais, a small town in northern Minnesota near the United States-Canada border.
These two places could not look more different. Nogales, a bustling desert town with dry weather, and Grand Marais, calmly resting on the rocky shore of Lake Superior. But they share a similar heartbeat, tourism rooted in everyday life.
These towns do not feature the kind of tourism built around luxury resorts or adrenaline-pumping attractions. Their tourism is one that grows from the people living in them and the cross-border markets, restaurants, galleries and warm local hospitality.
Tourism in these towns does not turn them into exclusive or artificial stages. Instead, it seems to strengthen their identity.
Both places show us that small towns can survive, even thrive, when their residents stand at the center of their own economy. A livable place does not need shopping malls or skyscrapers. Sometimes, a strong community and robust local circulation of money bring far more opportunity.
Many locals choose to stay, building small businesses, advancing their communitiesand earning a living from their own ecosystem.
Building a strong community cannot be achieved through top-down policies alone, said Nogales Mayor Jorge Maldonado. The key for growing a solid community is communication. People know what they want and the government is there to help them fulfill it, he added.
In his view, the city government must be present in the everyday conversations of its residents, listening to what they need, understanding the unique cross-cultural dynamics of the border region and making decisions through two-way communication.
And his approach seems to be working. “It is not difficult to talk with the Mayor of Nogales,” said Jaime Chamberlain, president and owner of Chamberlain Distributing Inc., a produce company established by his family in 1971. “He sits right there; he will listen our needs.”
Chamberlain’s story, and Nogales itself, mirrors a familiar narrative I see back home. In Indonesia, the government, particularly through the Ministry of Tourism, has sought to boost regional tourism by promoting local destinations, improving infrastructure, and empowering small industries to manage natural and cultural assets.
Of these initiatives, tourism often stands out as the most prominent driver of regional growth. It is not only tourism, of course. The government pursues many paths to improve regional welfare, from developing infrastructure and empowering local industries to managing natural and cultural resources.
Yet tourism often becomes the most visible driver, a sector that connects many others and helps regions grow faster.
We can see this kind of effort in programs developing tourism villages, culturally rooted in small towns, and even in border areas. Wonosobo in Central Java with its Dieng Culture Festival and Labuan Bajo in East Nusa Tenggara with its breathtaking nature, show that small towns can grow when tourism is managed well.
In border areas such as Entikong, West Kalimantan and Skouw, Papua, there is already a form of cross-border tourism similar to Nogales. Thousands of people cross daily. It is not as big as Nogales yet, but I believe it is only a matter of time before the border areas in Indonesia offer a better life to people.
This shows that regional development, in Indonesia or in the United States, works best when local people truly benefit from it. In Grand Marais, that means fishermen and café owners who can make a living year-round thanks to visitors.
In Nogales, it means families who depend on cross-border trade and small businesses that keep the town alive. In Indonesia, it means villagers running homestays or selling crafts in places once overlooked by tourists. When development brings stability and dignity to local livelihoods, progress feels real.
