On a recent journey into Ecuador’s Amazon jungle, Ramón Pucha realized he was being trailed, with fresh puma tracks appearing beside his own footprints. Pucha continued anyway, carrying seeds of endangered plant species as his family works to recreate forest life on land they say has been damaged for decades.
Pucha and his family have spent years building a recovered forest ecosystem on a 32-hectare farm called El Picaflor in the Indigenous Quichua community of Alto Ila, about 128 kilometers (80 miles) southeast of Quito. The family describes the project as a seed bank and replanting effort that relies on rescuing species whose survival depends on steady regeneration.
Pucha, 51, said he has “a passion for nature, for plants, for animals,” adding that many people in his community consider his environmental commitment “crazy.” He said he ventures deep into the jungle, often alone, for up to five days at a time to find seeds that can be replanted. On more than one occasion, Pucha said he returned without seeds because large trees, affected by climate change and severe droughts across the region, had stopped producing seeds annually.
Once the seeds reach El Picaflor, Pucha’s wife, Marlene Chiluisa, takes over, planting the seeds in suitable soil and compost so they can grow into plants the family later replants in the rainforest. Chiluisa said the family also shares part of its output, selling or gifting a percentage of the plants to neighbors who are committed to forest regeneration.
Their efforts have drawn attention from Ecuador’s government. The country’s Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock recognizes El Picaflor as a “living laboratory” and a vital seed bank in an area scarred by 50 years of constant logging. In the family’s telling, recognition from the government has not translated into consistent support on the ground.
Chiluisa said the family’s struggle remains largely solitary, saying, “Nobody gives us any incentive—not the government, not foundations, not anyone.” She described the project’s day-to-day responsibilities as something the family continues to carry with limited help, even as it operates in a region facing environmental pressure from both historic logging and current climate stress.
The family has also begun passing the work to the next generation. Their 21-year-old son, Jhoel, has stepped into Pucha’s role as the successor, and the family says he is an expert botanist who can identify plants by their common, traditional and scientific names with ease. Jhoel also serves as a guide, ferrying visitors across the turbulent Ila River in a craft made of wooden planks lashed to a buoy.
Even with their work, the family describes a long, uncertain timeline for restoration. Pucha has paused to observe plants on the property, pointing out one small, growing tree he said is now rare in the area and the type of fine wood that will reach maturity in 100 years. Pucha said, “That is my legacy for my children and for humanity,” saying the rescued species provide medicine for humans and food for animals that naturally replant the forest.
As Ecuador’s environmental governance changes, the family and other observers say their work could face new obstacles. Environmentalists and Indigenous groups warn that President Daniel Noboa’s decision to merge the Ministry of Environment with the Ministry of Energy and Mines threatens the landscape that the family is trying to save.