“Por favor—necesito alcohol isopropílico al 99%.”

“¿Dónde comprar alcohol isopropílico en Costa Rica?” she muttered, typing furiously into her phone.

Second stop: EPA , the hardware giant. Aisle 12, cleaning solvents. Nothing.

Mariana paid, clutched the bottle like a winning lottery ticket, and drove home under the stars of San José.

The guard paused, then smiled. “Ah, don Carlos en el fondo. Él guarda lo bueno.”

That night, her microscope lens sparkled. The fungus revealed its secrets. And she learned that in Costa Rica, the hardest thing to find isn’t adventure—it’s pure isopropyl alcohol after 6 p.m.

It was 8 p.m. Most pharmacies were closing. She grabbed her keys and whispered a prayer to the gods of lab supplies.

First stop: Farmacia Fischel in Escazú. “Solo tenemos de 70%,” the clerk said. Too diluted.