The 19-year-old is making a familiar journey between two very distinct worlds: her hometown and her place of work on the coast. Although the bus ride takes only a little over an hour, Jessica can afford to return to Santa Cruz only once a week.

Three months ago, Jessica left her home in pursuit of a career in tourism. Today, she works full time as a waitress in a luxury hotel in Playa Tamarindo, a beach resort to the west of Santa Cruz.

Dozens of hotels are constructed each year to accommodate a growing international interest in the country's abundant natural beauty. Nearly 600,000 tourists entered the country this year in the high season months of January to September, according to Costa Rica's National Tourism Bureau. The recent explosion of tourism is creating thousands of new jobs for young people, the majority of who come from rural areas where work is scarce.

"There is no opportunity in my hometown," Jessica says.

"I used to work at two different jobs, and I still didn't make enough money. So I left home when I was 17 years old."

Neo Hippy Paradise

Stepping off the bus at Playa Tamarindo is like walking into a surreal 1960s beach commune.

Dread-locked blond surfers zoom along curved dirt roads in their new black Toyota Land Cruisers, their boards strapped to the roofs. The local supermarket prominently displays organic granola bars and all-natural snack foods.

Stopping at a waterfront restaurant for a Coca Cola, Jessica lays out her impression of the beach crowd.

"I don't like the environment here, I do not consider it my own," she says. "It is an environment of people that only come and go quickly. For those of us who come to work, there is no life for us here."

Barracks of Solitude

A half-mile of gravel road leads to Jessica's place of work and residence, the four-star luxury Hotel Barcelo. At the employee dormitory entrance, Jessica descends down a paved pathway that curves slightly to reveal an ominous two-story gray concrete building. Outside, there is a small dining area furnished with eight plastic tables and chairs.

Seated mutely at the tables, a dozen young people mechanically eat a watery beans and rice mixture from stainless steel plates. Glancing momentarily at the dismal lunch crowd, Jessica enters into a narrow, dim hallway with a series of white doors on each side. Opening a padlock with a small brass key, she enters her room.

The space is just large enough to hold the metal bunk bed frames that line each side. Behind one bed, light leaks in from a small, towel-covered window. Heavy, acrid air stifles the senses.

Explaining why the employees do not organize and demand better living conditions, Jessica says, "None of us plan to stay here. The conditions won't improve because the workers do not want to invest their time in something that others will enjoy."

"Besides, most of us lose our jobs in the off-season anyway."

Growth without Development

The escalating tourism industry also has its critics among Costa Rican officials. Santa Cruz' Regional Director of Education, Amado Espinoza Briceno, says that while tourism- related jobs provide temporary employment for rural youth, the industry presents no long-term social solutions to the poverty that drives them to leave in the first place.

"The great problem with this rapidly growing tourism industry is that it means growth of a region without necessarily meaning the development of our own people," Briceno says.

"Today, we are not resolving pressing social problems. We are instead sending our youth away to serve the large foreign businesses."

As an educational expert, Briceno has additional concerns. He laments seeing higher numbers of young people dropping out of high school and opting for technical training in tourist-related specializations. "The large hotels and construction companies are looking for cheap labor -- people with less education, so they can pay them less," he says.

An Evening at Home

Back at home in Santa Cruz, Jessica sits in the living room with her younger brother, Kenneth, and her boyfriend, Alfredo.Wiping her hands with a dishcloth as she emerges from a steaming kitchen, Jessica's mother, Yogeidy Bonilla, describes the challenge of seeing her daughter go.

"It is difficult because I see my daughter so rarely. I only wish that the bus ride was shorter so she could come every day," Yogeidy says.

A single mother of two, Yogeidy admits that although she is extremely proud of her daughter for bringing in needed income for the family, she also misses her presence around the house.

"I get sentimental because she is my only daughter and my oldest child. She is gone already from my life."

As the afternoon darkens into evening, the family gathers around the dining room table for a special meal of fried rice, beans and fresh farmer's cheese, one of Jessica's favorites. Tomorrow morning, Jessica will wake early and return to the coast to begin another week of work

Luxury for Whom?

At the entrance of the Hotel Barcelo, a set of towering Doric columns holds up a lobby ceiling. A set of stairs lead down to an immaculate swimming pool with a gurgling waterfall that overlooks the ocean. Children with bright orange inflatable wings shriek gleefully as they belly flop into the waters, their parents keeping watch over an afternoon cocktail.

Preparing for dinner at the hotel's outdoor patio restaurant, Jessica transforms starched napkins into a boat-shape. She explains that she makes around $200 a month, but during high season her total monthly earnings can reach up to $350. These earnings place Jessica well above the poverty line for Costa Rica, which is around $55 a month for rural areas, according to The Economist Intelligence 2000 Country Report.

Eating Honey from The Knife

Like Jessica, 23-year-old Roy Munoz left his hometown of Liberia at the age of 17 to work in coastal hotels. Munoz, who has worked as everything from a yoga instructor to a nature guide, explains that the illusion of a better life "hooks" youth into coastal migration.

"These young people come from poorer areas, so the hook of tourism is powerful. There is the illusion that we will go there and find a better life," Munoz says.

When he first arrived to the coast, Munoz says that the illusion of success shattered quickly as he observed his working conditions. "It is like eating honey from the knife."

Munoz explains that this as a common reaction among young migrants. "They realize right away that they are treated poorly, living like chickens in a coop, they will make no money, and all the while they are losing the capacity to go back to school," he says.

Even more seriously, Munoz says that many youth begin to drink heavily and use drugs to escape from the hard conditions of the job.

"We lose our values and principles, and feeling empty, pick up the bottle or start using cocaine and pot."

Between Two Worlds

Costa Rica is embracing tourism as an alternative to a dwindling agricultural industry. Gone are the days of the banana and coffee export industry, lost to the international competition of a globalizing market. To take its place, the government allowed the purchase of thousands of acres of coastal land by foreign investors.

This means a chance at success for Jessica and others, but one tinged with the sacrifice of all that is familiar and comfortable. Although she has a positive outlook on her future in tourism, Jessica laments that in exchange for such employment, she remains trapped between two worlds.

"Here, I have a job and make money, but no life." Jessica says.

"My life and my people are there in Santa Cruz. Home is always the best place to be."