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Costa Rica, Manuel Antonio

The Questions I Won't Answer

A taxi driver on seasonal income, illegal competitors, and the questions from tourists that could cost him his license, his car, and his family's future.

This story is a Tourism Voices Original and was recorded in the early 2000s. Recent visits show that many aspects of it are still relevant. The Tourism Voices Assessment project will update the story soon.

Tourism is good for the local economy in Quepos and Manuel Antonio, a taxi driver says — but for people in his line of work, it's a stranger relationship than it looks. More tourists does mean more income, but only during the high season. His fixed costs run all year regardless, and prices for everything have climbed steadily because of tourism.

The extra traffic wears down the roads faster than they were built for, which means more wear on his car, more maintenance, and — especially with tourists behind the wheel — more risk of accidents on top of it.

Illegal taxis add another layer of pressure. Visitors often can't tell them apart from licensed drivers like him, and that confusion costs him work.

Even so, he genuinely enjoys tourism, and tourists. Conversation with them has taught him about places he'll likely never travel to himself. People tend to open up to him too — he's become something like a confidant for many riders, someone they trust enough to ask for real advice about where to go.

That trust cuts both ways, though, and not always comfortably. He regularly gets asked questions he's neither allowed nor willing to answer — most often, where to buy drugs. Answering that, he explains bluntly, would make him complicit in trafficking: it would cost him his license, his job, his car, and years in prison, putting his entire family's future on the line. He asks, simply, that tourists stop putting him in that position.

“If I answer that question, I lose my license, my car, my freedom — and I put my whole family's future at risk.”

He's had worse requests. A few foreign passengers once asked him about underage prostitutes; he threw them out of his taxi on the spot. If it happens again, he says, he won't just refuse — he'll drive them straight to the police.

He has gentler advice too. Tourists here, he's noticed, almost always try to negotiate — on taxis, food, excursions, everything. But Costa Ricans tend to work with fixed prices, and for taxis those fares are officially set. Haggling doesn't get a better deal, he warns; it mostly just funnels business toward the illegal drivers — cars that aren't insured, aren't inspected, and are more likely to overcharge in the end anyway.