“Entrifacation”: The Art of Building Together
Article by: Sophia Claire — CEO and Founder Mariposa Journal
Gentrification is a scary word. And I'll be honest, as a gringa who has lived in Costa Rica for only six years, I've been less aware of its effects than I'd care to admit. That discomfort pushed me to sit with it: To really look at what it means, what it does to our coumminities, and get a fuller understanding of its impact.
While gentrification undeniably carries real and often painful consequences, it also raises a series of difficult questions: To what extent does outside investment actually contribute to the growth of a region? Perhaps more importantly, is there a version of gentrification that can exist without harming local communities?
Let me try to untangle it.
Gentrification, as defined by Oxford Languages Dictionary is the process by which the character of an underprivileged urban area is changed by wealthier individuals moving in, improving housing, and attracting new businesses — typically displacing the people who were already there in the process.
Globalization has accelerated this dynamic. As the world grows more connected through trade, technology and culture, the conditions for gentrification travel faster and reach further. Heavily touristed countries, like Costa Rica, are feeling it acutely, often confronted by unprecedented cultural change.
Here in Guanacaste, the signs are hard to miss. English language now dominates towns that began as quiet fishing villages and secluded surf spots, such as Tamarindo and Santa Teresa, where many retail spaces are now owned by expats. The displacement and degradation that results isn't abstract. It's visible. Drive through what was once the thriving Blue Zone of Nicoya, a community globally recognized for its centenarian living, and the road is now littered with McDonald's billboards.
Sometimes, these tourists become expatriates — people who arrive in Costa Rica and fall genuinely, deeply in love with it. Who feel a pull to work with its people and land, and strive to reinforce its unique essence, rather than simply passing through and taking from it.
When I first drafted this piece, I called it “positive gentrification”. However, after some workshopping, I moved away from the term, and rightfully so. Gentrification is rarely positive, because when an outsider does something to a country rather than for it, the impact is usually damage, however well-intentioned.
Photo Credit: Belen Rod
I was at a standstill; I couldn't quite describe what I was seeing. This forced me to think creatively, and in doing so, I realized there was no word to describe the dynamic playing out in front of me. That gap is how entrify was born.
In Latin, the prefix en means "into," and facere means "to make." In Spanish, “entre” means between. Thus, entrifacation as a practice is the act of creating together. It's generous, and uplifts the other person, building something that could'nt be made alone.
Think of the Guanacaste tree in the center of a pueblo. Children play beneath it in the afternoon heat, workers eat their lunch in its shade, birds nest in its branches. The tree does not take over the space — it completes it. It simply grows wide and generously, allowing everything else to bloom around it. That is entrifacation. Not directing what gets created, but becoming the kind of presence that makes creation possible for everything around it.
"Do with, not to." Those are the words of Abel McClennen, a pioneer of entrifacation, even if he didn't term it as such. In fact, we only coined the term a couple of months before this piece was published, but Abel has been living its meaning for decades.
When he, alongside his wife Kerry and a group of local community members, founded La Paz School in 2007, their goal was to create a space where Ticos and expats could work together to strengthen the education system in Guanacaste. They went about building collective social capital rather than importing someone else's idea of what a school should be.
Today, La Paz has two campuses and over 800 students and staff. It is not a typical international school transplanting a foreign culture into unfamiliar soil. It is rooted here: an international school firmly planted in Costa Rica — cultivating students both local and born abroad, who are globally connected and deeply anchored in Tico soul. That distinction matters more than it might sound, making La Paz a community more than a school.
Entrifacation: once you know what to look for, it is abundant.
Another example, Parque Tempisque, is a mixed-use development constructed by Ticos, for Ticos. By regenerating unused Costa Rican-owned farmland and investing in its development, the project creates new opportunities rather than displacing existing residents. This benefits those who work, live and, as a result, will thrive in the surrounding area. When I spoke to a representative from the project, they said, “Parque Tempisque was born as a purpose-driven development whose mission is to create a thriving, integrated community in Guanacaste. We are developing the project with our key constituents, not simply for them. When the mission is that clear, doing the right thing becomes the path of least resistance.”
Then there's Metzli Coffee House, founded by Dania Alvarez, an expat with a vision who brought her expertise and values about coffee to Costa Rica while respecting and holding space for the culture she was entering. The result? frozen horchata, pinol iced lattes. Drinks that feel both worldly and unmistakably Tico. Dania puts it plainly: "While competing with major international brands like Starbucks, our real value lies in celebrating local ingredients with international flair, at affordable prices. Our space is welcoming to tourists, but above all, it exists to serve as, and belongs to the thriving local community that has always called this area home." This vision has transformed Metzli into a space that fosters a sense of belonging for locals, expats, and visitors alike, bringing them together to eat, work and thrive.
Then there’s Almaco Diving, founded in 2005 by Bari Lehrman and her husband Miguel Sanchez. Theirs is a business that has spent over twenty years offering snorkeling and diving to visitors, as they employ Ticos and actively preserve the land and ocean in which they work. Bari describes their philosophy as: "Your success is our success, and our success is your success," a belief they extend to every relationship they build in the community. Almaco doesn't extract from its environment; in fact, it does quite the opposite — it teaches people (both visitors and locals) to see it, appreciate it and protect it.
So, circling back to where I started: yes, gentrification in its typical form is not always sustainable. It can increase property values and generate jobs in the short-term, but it often erodes the heart of a community, and it hollows out the very soul of the places it touches.
Entrifacation, by contrast, offers another path, one towards evolution that is collaborative and intentional, while remaining deeply connected to who we are and the culture that carries us forward.
"Do with, not to." Flourish as one. Turns out there was always a word for it — we just had to grow it together.
Photo Credit: Belen Rod