A balmy Costa Rican breeze flows through the room, sending the artisan's salt and pepper hair dancing in the air. He slowly leans back in his stool and evaluates his handiwork.

Pottery as identity

Santiago Villafuerte sometimes wakes up at 4 a.m. to sneak out of bed to paint his pottery. "My wife thinks I am crazy," he says boisterously with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eye. "I love to paint. I enjoy this job. I feel good about it."

Santiago and his wife, Maria Elena, are one of the many families in the tiny village of Guaitil who eke out a living by making pottery out of their home. Most of the residents are descendants of the Chorotega Indians who lived in western Costa Rica before the Spanish came to settle in the country.

The craft has been passed down through the generations in Guaitil, establishing a unique cultural identity for the townspeople. Today, the communities of Guaitil and the neighboring town of San Vicente are dedicated to preserving the Chorotega culture by making pottery using the same methods and materials as their ancestors. The pottery-town villagers earn most of their income from the pottery they sell to tourists and area hotels.

"The community is very close and we all know each other," Santiago says. "We are connected because we all have the same job."

Bump in the road

But the clay, which binds the community together, is now getting hard to find. The potters say the clay they use for the pottery can no longer be found in any other part of the world except on a piece of private land in San Vicente, about 2 km from Guaitil.

The potters have been talking with the owners of the land, the Solorzano family, for nearly 10 years in hopes of securing the land for the communities. Artisans from San Vicente came to talk about the possibility of using the Solorzano's land. Marcos Solorzano, who looks after the land for his family, told them they could not use the land for free, but could buy it from him.

The potters want to use only 3 hectares of the Solorzano family land. Marcos says they will sell all 15 hectares of the land or none of it at all. If the communities decide to buy the land, Marcos says they will have to pay 25 million colones, about $76,000. The communities have struggled to collect money and have only been able to come up with 5 million colones, or about $15,000.

"Somehow, we have to solve the problem," Santiago says. "We don't want to lose our material. Clay for us is the most important thing."

Solving the problem

Traditionally, the Chorotegas and their descendants have trekked on foot or by horse to nearby hills to excavate materials for clay and paint from the earth. The communities have tried clay from other places and found that the quality is not the same.

FEDEAGUA, a group that promotes community development and organization, has stepped in to help Guaitil and San Vicente organize committees to spearhead a solution to the problem. Wilmar Matarrita, manager of FEDEAGUA, comes to Guaitil once a week to meet with the committees."The plan is to focus on the problem and find ways to work on the problem," Wilmar says.

Hugo Villafuerte, Santiago's cousin, is part of the Guaitil committee. He has decided to dedicate his time to help his community get the land for the clay because the shortage is a serious problem.

"If the problem is not solved, the people cannot stop working," Hugo says. "The people probably will have to steal clay."

But because negotiations have come to a standstill, some potters have already resorted to sneaking onto the Solorzano's property to take the clay early in the morning.

Marcos said he wants to sell the property because the people are damaging his land. "The people do not come here to buy it; they come to steal it," he says.

Teaching the trade

Victor Hugo Villafuerte, Santiago's college-age nephew, has been studying at Santiago's house for over two months to learn how to make pottery. He sits on a wooden stool and tries to emulate Santiago's techniques. Victor struggles to make the clay take shape.

Santiago says, "We try to live as a big family. When people need help, we help them. It is very important to preserve the culture."

Children begin learning to make pottery in the homes when they are young, Santiago explains. He learned to make pottery from his parents and grandparents. But because Santiago and Maria Elena have no children, Santiago decided to teach the children at the Guaitil elementary school. He has given lessons there for four years.

Santiago says he worries about the children, who are the next generation of pottery makers in Guaitil. "The children will have a big problem," he says. "We are trying to get the money to buy this lot. If we don't get this lot, children will have to go to San Jose to make pottery."

Somehow, Santiago says, the communities must get enough money to buy the property. He says the communities need the clay to maintain their Chorotega identity and the unique way of living they have struggled to keep alive.

Santiago's trademark grin slowly fades and he falls silent for a moment. He sadly bows his head. He is thinking about his community's problem. His eyes lack the usual twinkle as he slowly looks up again. "I think about it all the time," he says quietly. "I love my town."