When we moved to Costa Rica a year and a half ago, the prison-like façades that faced the streets of San Jose
appalled us. Steel security bars and razor tape are everywhere. We were
delighted that our first house was safe enough in the middle of a large
coffee plantation that it needed neither bars nor wire. The five big,
not-that-friendly dogs and attentive longtime employees provided
reliable security.
A move across the valley to a suburb closer to the city gave us a
new perspective on security. With a small and underpaid police force
and equally small consequences for getting caught thieving, the locals
believe in prevention.