Seurat, my dog gave a sharp bark as he bounded into my home office to get me. I understood that someone was at the front gate, which is where I generally greet anyone who stops by.

I walked outside to see one of my Costa Rican (Tico) neighbors. He is the grandfather of an extended family of 5 houses and households directly below me. I said hello in spanish and then listened carefully. I find some of my Tico neighbors difficult to understand. This abbreviated Spanish spoken rapidly in addition to my hearing loss makes our communication rudimentary at best. I listened intently.

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He seemed to be telling me that tomorrow his family and other Tico neighbors would be working on the road below my house and that I would have to use the upper road for 3 or 4 days. I absorbed the information as I quickly thought about how Frank would get to my place and whether or not anyone else was planning to visit – be blocked for several days.




Knowing it would do no good to ask for a delay or question further, I simply said okay and that I would like to contribute a little bit of money to the project. He smiled at that and went on to talk about cooperation, etc. I understood I had said the right thing. So far so good. It had taken me awhile to understand cooperation, Tico style.




I thought back.




It was 2008 when I first rumbled up the rocky, steep road to the Tico house that I would call home. It definitely required 4-wheel drive and an intrepid driver for the 1Ž4 mile to my place and if one needed to go beyond my house, the road stayed steep and rugged for another 1Ž2 mile+ to the top.




My road was a just a fork off the primary municipally maintained gravel road — and surely the toughest fork around. At the top lived Tico neighbors who were professionals with a big house and one of the best views ever.

The road continued beyond them — overgrown, deeply rutted and down as a loop to the main highway. Knowing the road was tough when I purchased my house, I bought a workhorse of a car — a ’93 Toyota forerunner that never had a problem in 4wd. But other cars did. More than once I heard my road referred to as the road ‘from hell’ or ‘to hell’ and several people admitted to me that they had ‘white knuckled’ it up to my place.




I kind of liked it because it meant that no one was likely to just ‘drop in’ without calling first and giving me a chance to get dressed or clear off a table. Still, the road was daunting and deteriorating.




A year after I arrived, new American neighbors began building a home right above my house. The construction traffic included building supply and heavy concrete trucks that took a definite toll on the narrow road. Turning trucks and land movers also destroyed the adjacent water run-off ditches.




When the heavy rains came, there was no place for the water to go so it coursed down the road leaving erosion channels and exposed rocks and mud. Something had to be done.

Road Repair Gringo Style

My new neighbor had construction experience and road building knowledge in the states and decided to take control of the situation and repair the road. He came by my place one morning to tell me that he was forming a neighborhood road co-op in which the Gringos would put in money and the Ticos would put in labor.




Hmmmm…. Since he and I were the only Gringos on the road, I was concerned. He went on to say that the Ticos at the top of the road would also help financially and I told him I could contribute $200, over 2 months as I was living primarily on my social security. He agreed and very soon I saw my neighbors below spraying weed killer (which I didn’t want) and then a huge road scraper came along to level the road below.

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It seemed to me that a lot of the good road material that had been laid down over time was also cleared off and into the ditches, but what did I know?




Sure enough, much of the cleared road became impassable red clay mud in the next rain. My neighbor finished the road above my house, but left the road below bare. Any rain made the red impassable for vehicles and even for walkers. Alarmed, I drove up to his place to talk with him. He explained that the Ticos at the top pulled out of the deal and that he’d run out of money.




After I replied that the road below could not be left as bare mud, I paid my $200 and just hoped. The road was completed and it looked really good for awhile. And then it didn’t.

The perpetrators were several.

  • Heavy tropical downpours.
  • 2-wheel drive motorists spinning their tires
  • 4-wheel drive motorists driving too fast
  • Heavy trucks
  • Lack of maintenance by Tico neighbors

I would often hear a car engine revving while churning up bedrock, clay and gravel right outside my house. The Ticos below did what they knew to do — dig desaquas which are ditches that extended from the center to the side ditches to drain water off the road. The cross channels made the already bumpy road bumpier.




After a full rainy season the combination of perpetrations left the road worse than it had ever been. The final straw was a 6 month renter for the Gringo’s house who had a 4-wheel drive car that wasn’t powerful enough to make the grade slowly.




Tearing up the road during the dry season in a cloud of dirt dust intensified the damage and created deep ruts that became mud slicks in rain. Something had to be done!




It was at this point that the Ticos embraced their own way of building a road that would last. Though I don’t know the details, this was likely encouraged and financed mostly by the Ticos at the top of the road and Gringos, who this time wisely stayed in the background.

Road Repair Tico Style

Work began each Friday at daybreak before the all day Saturday effort. Big trucks rumbled up the road loaded with about 35 bags of concrete, piles of gravel and large (6 — 8″ diameter) river rocks.




They asked if they could store the concrete bags under my carport roof for rain protection and I agreed. The apparent foreman for the project was a nearby neighbor with an always squeaking motorcycle and we had rarely talked before this effort. He asked if I would make the gift (regalo) of the use of my water for the concrete mixing. I said ‘si, con mucho gusto’ (yes, with much pleasure) feeling that it was definitely a way I could contribute and participate.




The Saturday project began at 5:30 a.m. with about six young men and several more of the family members that included the grandfather, who still works a full day although I think he is older than me. They worked all morning hoping to finish before the rains in the afternoon. The Tico neighbors on top contributed a truck for hauling materials and a huge concrete mixer. On Sunday I walked down the road to give my financial contribution to the acting foreman while I expressed thanks for all their efforts. Smiles all around.

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The road was a Tico style road consisting of two parallel concrete and rock tracks about 1+ ft wide and 1+ ft deep. Though it might be better to include rebar, it usually isn’t done because of expense. It is a good system if it isn’t broken by the weight of heavy trucks or undermined by water erosion. It would be up to the Ticos to watch for evidences of damage and do the repair.




At the end of week 1 the steepest portion of the lower road was finished. Week 2 was the very steep area right below my house and just past my carport entry. Week 3 continued the effort up to my next neighbor’s entrance. I contributed as I could with water and money. My neighbors above bought all the workers beer at the end of the day. Everything offered was accepted graciously and I felt good about my contributions. It was a cooperative effort with each contributor deciding what he or she could offer. Tico style.

A Win-Win Conclusion

  • We got a good road that could be more easily navigated and wouldn’t stir up so much dust in the summer or become mud in the winter. The road was good for vehicles as well as walkers.
  • The Ticos got accolades and employment. Everyone congratulated them for a job well done.
  • The Gringos became participants in a project which makes us feel more like contributing members of the neighborhood.
  • All of us are taking pride and ownership in our new road – something that did not happen with earlier road repair. Now, when I see a rock out of place or some damage done, I’m more likely to correct the issue or notify one of my neighbors about it. Already I see that my Tico neighbors are creating rock borders around some of the catch basins to make them look more attractive. And now I’m considering a concrete apron between the new road and my carport and I will hire my road building experienced Tico neighbors to do it.

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The road project enabled me to see first hand some of the differences between cooperative and top-down management styles. Though I am certain that the top-down management style is more efficient and familiar to Gringos, it perpetuates hierarchical management structures founded on wealth and power. Sometimes that just doesn’t work here. Ticos are more comfortable and accustomed to cooperating with the community.




The cooperative method does have some drawbacks. It is less efficient and requires more interaction among all of the contributors. Results are often not ‘perfect’ because they depend more on the skills of individuals in a particular moment instead of a supervisory directive.

Work days and times can change in an instant depending on delivery of materials, availability of workers and/or the rain! I remember well my first introduction to Tico style project management when I asked my builder, Cesar when the studio would be completed. His reply, ‘But Jan, how could I possibly know? It will be completed when we finish.” Of course.




The road is now nearly finished and I’m not sure when or if it will be finally finished. I’ll know when or if it happens. I’m learning. And I can take pride in my part and enjoy the Pura Vida present. We have a perfectly adequate but somewhat crooked, uneven new road with some incomplete areas but complete with drainage ditches.




We’re all proud of it. We cooperated with each other in the work and we will maintain it over time. But most of all we have become better neighbors.

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Written by Jan Hart who is an internationally recognized watercolor artist, teacher and writer who moved to San Isidro de General from northern New Mexico, USA. At age 66, she still plans to teach, paint and write but is hoping to slow her pace in order to enjoy the incredible colors she finds all around her. For more information about Jan’s watercolor workshops and classes please email her at: jan@janhart.com

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