He walked three kilometers to school, often barefoot, and kept walking.
From the mountain territories of the Brunca people in southern Costa Rica, a seventeen-year-old named Juan Mesac Ramírez Varela has earned a place at one of the world's most selective youth science programs — a journey that began, quite literally, with a barefoot walk to school. His selection for the National Youth Science Camp in West Virginia is both a personal triumph over structural hardship and a quiet signal that human potential does not distribute itself according to geography or privilege. In a moment when the global scientific community speaks often of inclusion, Juan's story asks what has always been true: that talent waits in places opportunity has not yet arrived.
- A Brunca teenager who once walked three kilometers barefoot to reach school has been chosen as Costa Rica's sole representative to an elite international STEM camp in West Virginia.
- Indigenous youth in rural Costa Rica face compounding barriers — poverty, distance, crumbling infrastructure — that make academic persistence an act of extraordinary will rather than circumstance.
- Juan's community, the Brunca, carries a living cultural identity through mask-carving, weaving, and the Fiesta de los Diablitos, even as their ancestral language edges toward extinction under modern pressures.
- His selection by a competitive national committee signals that institutions are beginning, however slowly, to look beyond traditional pipelines for scientific talent.
- Juan will arrive in West Virginia carrying not only his academic preparation but an indigenous worldview rooted in ecological knowledge — a perspective the global STEM conversation rarely centers.
Juan Mesac Ramírez Varela is seventeen years old and a member of the Brunca people, an indigenous community nestled in the southern territories of Costa Rica's Puntarenas Province. This July, he will travel to West Virginia to attend the National Youth Science Camp — one of the most selective international STEM programs for young people — as the only representative from his country.
The Brunca have preserved their identity across generations through weaving, ceremonial mask-carving, and the annual Fiesta de los Diablitos, a celebration of cultural resistance. Their language survives in ceremony and expression, though it faces extinction. It is a community that holds its past carefully, even as its children must travel far to reach a future.
Juan's path was shaped early by hardship. As a child, he walked three kilometers each way to school — often without shoes. His community has limited access to basic services and educational infrastructure, conditions common to indigenous territories across Costa Rica. The distance alone turns away many. Juan kept going, and his persistence eventually brought him to the attention of the camp's selection committee.
The camp gathers promising young people from around the world to collaborate on STEM projects and engage with working scientists and engineers. For Juan, it is recognition — but it is also something larger. His presence at an elite international program demonstrates that talent exists in communities the world has historically overlooked, and that when opportunity extends even slightly further, young people from underserved places can meet it fully.
He will arrive carrying more than academic preparation. The Brunca relationship to the natural world and to ancestral ways of knowing is woven into how Juan understands the earth — a perspective that predates, and may yet enrich, the scientific disciplines he is about to study.
Juan Mesac Ramírez Varela is seventeen years old and a member of the Brunca people, an indigenous community in southern Costa Rica. In July, he will board a plane to West Virginia to spend three weeks at the National Youth Science Camp, one of the most selective international STEM programs for young people. He earned his place through a competitive national selection process and will be the only Costa Rican representative there.
The Brunca live primarily in the territories of Boruca and Rey Curré, in Puntarenas Province. They have maintained their ancestral ways for generations—weaving, carving masks, gathering for the annual Fiesta de los Diablitos, a celebration that marks cultural resistance and identity. The Brunca language persists in their expressions and ceremonies, though it faces the pressure of extinction. Families work deliberately to pass these traditions to their children, even as those children must travel far from home to attend school.
Juan's path to this opportunity was not straightforward. As a child, he walked three kilometers each way to reach his school, often barefoot. Those early years were the hardest, by his own account. His community sits in rural terrain with limited access to basic services and educational resources—conditions that define daily life for most indigenous youth in Costa Rica. The distance alone would discourage many. Juan kept walking. His dedication to his studies, despite the economic constraints and infrastructure gaps surrounding him, eventually moved him through the education system and into the attention of the camp's selection committee.
The camp itself brings together dozens of young people from different countries to work on STEM projects, attend workshops led by scientists and engineers, and build networks across borders. It is designed to deepen interest in science, technology, engineering, art, and mathematics among the world's most promising young minds. For Juan, it represents recognition of his effort and a chance to step into a global conversation about the future of these fields.
His selection also carries weight beyond his own achievement. Indigenous students in Costa Rica face structural barriers—distance, poverty, inadequate infrastructure—that make academic advancement a feat of will as much as intellect. Juan's presence at an elite international program signals that talent exists in places the world often overlooks. It demonstrates, too, that when barriers are lowered even slightly, young people from underserved communities can compete and excel at the highest levels.
The Brunca community's connection to the natural world and to ancestral knowledge runs deep. As Juan prepares to engage with modern science in a classroom in the United States, he carries with him the worldview of his people—a respect for the earth and for ways of knowing that predate the disciplines he will study. His journey from a three-kilometer walk to school to an international science camp is a personal story of perseverance, but it is also a statement about what becomes possible when opportunity reaches into places it has historically bypassed.
Citações Notáveis
His early years of study were the most difficult, walking three kilometers from home to school each day.— Juan Mesac Ramírez Varela, in statements to local media
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
What made Juan's selection significant beyond just his own achievement?
He's the only Costa Rican at this camp, and he comes from a community where most young people don't have access to the kind of educational infrastructure that typically produces international scholarship winners. His presence there says something about where talent actually lives, versus where we've been looking for it.
You mention he walked three kilometers to school as a child. Was that unusual for his community?
Not unusual at all—that was normal. The Brunca territories are rural and remote. But what was unusual was his response to it. Most kids in that situation don't make it through to competitive selection processes. He did.
The source emphasizes the Brunca's cultural traditions quite a bit. Does that connect to his science camp participation?
It does, though not in an obvious way. The Brunca have maintained their own ways of understanding and working with the world for centuries—weaving, carving, reading the land. Juan isn't abandoning that to become a scientist. He's bringing both into the same person.
What do you think the camp organizers saw in him?
Probably what anyone would see: a young person who overcame real obstacles to excel academically. But also someone who represents a part of the world that's been excluded from these spaces. That diversity matters to how science itself develops.
Does his story change anything about how Costa Rica thinks about indigenous education?
It should. It shows that the problem isn't a lack of talent in rural indigenous communities. It's a lack of access. When you remove some of those barriers, what emerges is exactly what you'd expect—capable, driven young people ready to compete globally.