Small-town living, Tico style, brings with it individual customs and expressions, some of which have passed into the mainstream culture.
For example, the many cottages and beachfront homes belonging to Tambor's old-time residents rarely have doorbells. So what does a visitor do to attract the attention of someone from within the depths of his or her house? Don't assume that the Spanish version of "Hello" (Hola) works. Rather Costa Ricans have their own colorful expression to announce a person's presence at a neighbor's doorstep: Upe (oo-pay).

The expression, which is unique to Costa Rica, normally works as well as any electric door chime. Language researchers have suggested its origins come from the Nicoya Peninsula and the December festival honoring Nicoya's Virgin of Guadalupe that dates back to Colonial times.
To help finance the celebrations, the religious brothers who were the custodians of the cult would go from door to door during the year collecting alms. At each house they initially, called out: "Please give something for Our Lady of Guadalupe." Over time the request was shortened beyond all recognition.
From "Our Lady of Guadalupe" it evolved to "Guadalupe", and finally yo "Upe" because everyone in town knew why the brothers were at their front door. It appears that domestic workers hired from the Peninsula to tend the houses in the Central Valley brought the expression with them and from there it spread throughout the country.
You might understand why the residents living near the ferry dock at Paquera in the Perro Negro district were reluctant to "Upe" their neighbors. According to local legend Perro Negro (Spanish for Black Dog) derived its name from a mysterious and vicious canine that leapt out on unsuspecting pedestrians and attacked them ferociously. Nobody knew where the cur lived or whether it had an owner.
Repeated attempts to trap or poison the horrifying beast brought no success. It always seemed to savagely attack from all quarters unexpectedly. It certainly was not wise to advertise your presence with a cheery call in downtown Black Dog. Luckily today's residents have only to live with the name and not the fangs.