Blog

In Praise of Resistance

I walk with Fernando and Jessica through the halls of the Federated College of Engineers and Architects of Costa Rica, in Curridabat. We arrive at a small central courtyard where a luminary shines,...

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We´re all carbon on the move

I’m returning from the Irazú volcano when I see a dark-headed vulture gliding over a field. Curious about what drew it there, I pull the car over to the roadside. In the sky, other vultures trace...

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In praise of weeping

My mom arrived early, as always. Dressed in black, she walked through the doors of the funeral home, searched around but found no one she knew. Don Enrique, a very dear co-worker who worked as a...

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The invisible mountain range

I sit in front of my computer, ready to write. I have decided to travel to Uvita, in the South Pacific, without packing suitcases, hat or sunscreen. I close my eyes and let the memories of a trip I...

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The invisible value of nature

Some time ago I wrote a blog entitled "Making biodiversity pay: a look at new opportunities", inspired by the COP16 talks on Biodiversity, held in October 2024. There he explored how biodiversity...

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The magnet of the South Caribbean

After a walk along the beach, we went back to the hotel. Our feet were covered by a thin dark layer, black as engine grease. We took off our flip-flops; we opened the tap to the maximum and rubbed...

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Chinese Tales

I remember the red bridge in Parque Chino. I remember it because, during my childhood, I climbed his hunchbacked back like someone climbing a mountain. Also, because it appears in a photograph that...

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How to Lead an Energy Transition?

A few months ago, I traveled for more than five hours from Cartago to Guanacaste to attend a workshop on green hydrogen—a promising energy vector ideal for decarbonizing hard-to-electrify sectors,...

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The grays

One afternoon in December 2018 we met the greys. We had traveled to New Mexico with Jennifer and Juan Jose, taking advantage of the fact that they go every year to celebrate their wedding...

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Fidel’s granddaughter

I was six years old when my grandfather died. My nono. I was very young, but I have some very vivid memories of him. I remember one afternoon when it was pouring rain, and I was sitting on the porch...

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