The social crisis no one talks about in Costa Rica

Costa Rica often appears in international rankings as a paradise destination , a green, democratic country with high levels of happiness. However, behind the postcards sold to international tourists lies a lesser-known reality: a social crisis affecting those who keep the system running, while living with the very inequalities that this same model deepens.

When the low season feels like a fast

On the Pacific coast, where hotels and hostels flourish with the arrival of European and American visitors, the low season hits quietly. Waiters, housekeepers, and tour guides see their working hours,and with them, their income,reduced.

“There are weeks when they only call me in twice. What I earn on those days has to stretch to feed my whole family. Sometimes it’s not enough, and we fast without the kids realizing,” says María, a cleaner at a boutique hotel in Manuel Antonio.

The image of the country as a “paradise without an army” contrasts sharply with the vulnerability of those who depend on a minimum wage that barely covers the cost of basic necessities.

Healthcare: locals waiting while foreigners get priority

Medical tourism is promoted as one of the jewels of Costa Rica’s model. A foreigner can access surgery or consultations within days ,as long as they can pay rates ten times higher than local prices. Meanwhile, Costa Ricans wait months, even years, for specialized care through the Caja Costarricense de Seguro Social.

“I got an appointment with the orthopedist in eight months. A Canadian in the waiting room was seen in three days because he was paying privately. They tell us it’s normal, but it hurts to see that they’re worth more than us in our own country,” says Jorge, a taxi driver from San José.

Housing and land: exclusive beaches and unaffordable rent

Another growing issue is happening in coastal communities: foreigners buying beachfront properties to turn them into vacation homes. What used to be traditional neighborhoods are now luxury zones with rents priced in dollars

“My grandmother was born in this town, but I can’t afford to rent here anymore. Everything is in dollars. They’re slowly pushing us out of our own beaches,” says Carolina, a young woman from Tamarindo who now commutes an hour each day to work as a waitress in a tourist restaurant.

A country divided in two realities

The country's “national brand” showcases forests, volcanoes, and beaches that attract first-world tourists. But local voices reveal a deep social divide: a country that welcomes visitors with smiles and high prices, while its own people survive on low wages, endless waiting lists, and a soaring cost of living.

Tourism, the engine of Costa Rica’s national economy, has also become an uncomfortable mirror: it clearly reflects the inequalities between those who can afford to enjoy, and those who are barely hanging on.

The unresolved challenge is to build a model that not only sells experiences to foreigners but also ensures justice and well-being for those who make it possible for Costa Rica to be recognized as a world-class destination.

By Miguel Ledhesma