Anyone who has lived here more than a few months is well aware of the myriad problems present in 21st century Costa Rica: Violent crime (our murder rate per capita is not far behind that of Chicago); Theft (on all levels, from a crackhead stealing a bicycle off your porch to an elected official pocketing funds meant for public use); The high cost of living for this region felt doubly by those in the dollar economy; Declining tourism; And the perception that the divide between the haves and have-nots grows wider with each passing year.
Most of us handle the situation in a similar way: We go about our lives, take the normal precautions, roll with the occasional punches, and strive to embrace the many positives Costa Rica has to offer. But not all of us. There are those who live here unhappily—you can read their comments in online forums, hear them talking loudly over drinks in a bar, the whining refrains of those for whom life in Costa Rica has become like a bad marriage.
They came here full of expectations and found themselves feeling betrayed in one way or another—some allowed themselves to be taken advantage of financially, others fell victims to crime, others had little understanding of the country to begin with and are shocked at the cost of living, or the lack of certain first world amenities, or even the fact that not everyone understands English.
Personally, I have never had these negative vibes toward Costa Rica. You see, before I ever set foot here, I lived for 2 years on the island of St. Croix, in the US Virgin Islands. St. Croix was Costa Rica in microcosm: All of the common complaints heard here—government corruption and indifference, crime, poor policing, high cost of living, locals trashing the beaches and roadsides—were in your face on a daily basis there.
It is an island of about 120 square kilometers. You would see a local politico cruising around the island in a car that cost several times his listed annual salary. Any trip to any beach on the island required bringing a bag to clean up the garbage so you would have a clean place to spread out. Property crime went unreported as the police did little investigating, and there was always the possibility that the criminal was family with somebody on the police force.
Also, the electrical infrastructure was old and poorly maintained, and power outages were common. Most of the expats I knew there complained constantly, but few left. Many of the friends I made were surprised when I announced my intention to depart permanently.
When I relocated to Costa Rica, I felt like St. Croix had set the bar high for what I would tolerate. I had been inoculated there, and nothing I have since experienced in my decades here compares to what I experienced regularly there.
Enough harping on negatives. The rains have returned, the greenery sparkles like emeralds and the view of the mountain ranges against the blue sky is startling in its clarity. Two different old friends from my high school days visited Costa Rica earlier this year and both loved their time here. I liked receiving their positive feedback.
As for the whiners here among us, my advice is to do what I did on St. Croix—leave.
