My family was recently cleaning up our backyard, tidying up the mass of branches that had been ditched on the property by the local electric company after a recent tree-trimming campaign of the four massive mango trees that line the far side of the garden. As my husband and I made progress on the mountain of leaves and sticks, I laughed and pointed out that his rake “MacGyver” was still working. He gave me a look that said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.
His nice big orange plastic rake had broken a few years back because—as he will readily admit—he always uses his tools too hard, leading to a premature end to their lifespan.
In this case, without even knowing it, he had engineered a very successful Costa Rican MacGyver—a term based on the famous ’80s TV show that followed secret agent Angus MacGyver and his ingenious problem-solving skills as he completed missions for the Phoenix Foundation. In Costa Rica, hacer un MacGyver refers to finding a creative, improvised solution to a problem using whatever resources happen to be around.
In my husband’s case, he had used an old mousetrap to reattach the head of the rake to the handle after the original screws failed. I have no idea what made him think the mousetrap would work, but that rake has been raking for years—he really knocked it out of the park.
The mousetrap rake made me reflect on all of the other MacGyvers I’ve come across during my past decade or so living and working in Guanacaste, Costa Rica—often in resource-strapped nonprofit organizations or rural areas where the thing you need simply doesn’t exist. While these solutions are not always the most aesthetically pleasing (and frankly, sometimes slightly dangerous when electricity is involved), you can’t help but be impressed by the ingenuity and tenacity.
Here are a few of my favorite MacGyvers from over the years.
Plastic zip ties are the duct tape of Costa Rica
In the U.S., duct tape is the king of DIY repair supplies. Living in Costa Rica, we quickly learned that hardly anyone uses duct tape—or even knows what it is. When we did actually manage to source it, we were fairly shocked by the price tag and decided we needed to find a better solution.
What we came to learn was that zip ties, or gazas plásticas, are your best friend in Costa Rica for any and all emergency fixes. They generally come in black or white/transparent, are readily available in hardware stores (or even grocery stores), and are sold in a wide variety of lengths and widths—from teeny-tiny to mega-long. You can usually score a pack of 50 for around $3.
I’ve seen zip ties used for everything from fixing car bumpers to essential components in home construction to repairing backpacks and even shoes (the latter two examples are from personal experience). I now consider zip ties to be like a screwdriver or flashlight—an essential item we always need to keep in the house.
Washing machine trash cans
This is a general category of MacGyvers that I really admire on a sustainability level—using an item that has outlived its original purpose for a new one. I’ve seen a large number of old washing machines, metal barrels, and fridges lining the streets of Guanacaste serving as homemade trash cans.
“BASURERO” (trash can) is usually spray-painted in all caps on the side of the item to ensure that garbage collectors won’t confuse it for actual trash. Similarly, I always enjoy seeing someone use a dog food sack as a shopping bag or old plastic containers as planters.
The part of me that hates to see things wasted really appreciates people’s efforts to solve problems by repurposing items that are just lying around and would otherwise be destined for the landfill.
A tricky lock
I’m the kind of person who enjoys assembling the weird pressed-wood furniture you buy at Walmart and tinkering with my kids’ broken toys to see if I can fix them. I love a good challenge and don’t like to admit defeat. It often leads to a little yelling and several restarts, but I usually prevail.
In our rental, the main lock on our front gate had become increasingly maddening to open. Our landlord had just recently replaced the washing machine (no MacGyvers came to mind to fix it), so I felt awkward about complaining that the gate was a little too hard to open. To be fair, it could take up to 10 minutes to get the key just right, and the daily dose of infuriating frustration eventually got to be too much.
After having a small mental breakdown one afternoon when I was in a rush and couldn’t get the gate open, I decided enough was enough—I was going to fix it myself.
It seemed pretty obvious that a new lock was the solution to the problem. Easy peasy… I had replaced interior doorknobs a number of times successfully. I hit the local hardware store and headed back home, motivated and ready to take on the challenge. I quickly realized I had bought the wrong kind of lock, got made fun of by my husband (who was extremely dubious about my odds of success from the onset), and dejectedly went back out to get the correct lock.
The hardware store wouldn’t accept the return of the original lock, which I had bought 17 minutes earlier. However, I wouldn’t let that get me down and was determined to succeed. With the correct lock in hand, I tried for about two hours in the blazing Guanacaste sun to replace it.
Unfortunately, I eventually realized that the original installation of the lock had also been some sort of MacGyver—and it would be impossible to completely replace the old lock with the new one without some welding, and I was not about to go there. With my husband laughing from the porch, slightly discouraged but not ready to be defeated, I reassembled the old lock and decided to regroup.
That night, as I was trying to fall asleep and going over the lock puzzle in my head, it dawned on me—if I used half of the parts from the old lock and half from the new one, I could probably get it to work. The next day, I took the old lock apart again, left out certain pieces (including the original screws), and added some new ones. After a little more trial and error—Eureka!—it worked.
It now requires two different keys to open, and the screws still occasionally fall out, but I can open the gate from both sides in less than 10 seconds. Success!
What I love about MacGyvers is that they force creative problem-solving. They encourage better use of available resources and are often cheap or free. When Amazon isn’t an option—or you can’t just pop into your neighborhood Home Depot—are you able to think on your feet and figure out a solution? A successful MacGyver is one of my favorite aspects of the Pura Vida life, and I have deep admiration for the many MacGyvers I’ve witnessed from friends, neighbors, and colleagues over the years.
What’s been your favorite Costa Rican MacGyver?
