Kayapo and Panará block the BR-163
On Friday, September 25, Kayapo and Panará leaders gathered along the BR-163 highway in Novo Progresso, Pará. They had one clear demand for Via Brasil, the company that runs the highway: keep your commitments to the communities whose land this road cuts through.
The peaceful protest was organized by three Indigenous organizations: Instituto Kabu, Associação Iakiô and Associação Indígena Mantinó. With emergency protection measures set to expire on September 30, they say time is running out.
A highway that profits from Indigenous land
The BR-163 runs from Mato Grosso in the south to the Amazon River near Santarém in the north. It’s the main route for moving soy, corn and other grain out to overseas markets, and hundreds, sometimes thousands, of trucks pass through Novo Progresso on it every day.
Because the highway affects the Panará, Baú and Menkragnoti Indigenous Territories, the concessionaire is required to fund measures that reduce its impacts. These fall under the Indigenous Component of the Basic Environmental Plan (PBA-CI). Until the final plan is approved, a series of emergency measures funds the teams, infrastructure and territorial protection work the communities depend on.
The third cycle of those measures ends on September 30. Without a fourth cycle in place, all of that work could stop.
photos: Débora Siqueira
An agreement left hanging
“We are protesting the delay in approving the Emergency Plan, which is an interim measure ahead of the BR-163 PBA. At the time, we reached an agreement with Via Brasil to guarantee these emergency measures while the studies of the highway’s impacts were completed and approved by Funai and the other responsible agencies. So far, the concessionaire has not said anything about returning the studies or about continuing this agreement. We want to make our message clear: the Federal Prosecutor’s Office in Altamira has already been informed of our mobilization, so that our demands can be taken to the courts.”
— Doto Takak-Ire, president of Instituto Kabu
photo: Débora Siqueira
In August 2026, after a thorough process of consulting their communities, the three organizations sent their proposals for the next cycle to Via Brasil and the Federal Court. The company’s reply came on September 4, and the associations say it fell short. Via Brasil asked for more time for technical analysis and questioned the amounts, but it did not dispute any of the proposed measures individually.
A final plan that keeps slipping
The emergency measures were only ever meant to be temporary. They were supposed to be replaced by the final PBA-CI, but that plan has faced repeated delays.
In a filing to the Federal Court on August 31, 2026, the National Foundation of Indigenous Peoples (Funai) noted that the agreed timeline hadn’t been met. The plan was due in January but was only filed on May 29, after a series of extension requests. Funai also found no evidence that the Indigenous organizations had been consulted about the changes to the timeline. Key pieces are still missing, including architectural and engineering designs and a work plan for maintaining and repairing the access roads to the villages.
For the organizations, repeated emergency cycles that don’t cover the communities’ real needs can’t replace the plan they were promised.
Growing threats on the ground
The stakes go well beyond paperwork. According to data from the Rede Xingu+ network cited by the organizations, illegal gold mining and other illicit activities are pushing into the borders of Indigenous lands. There are signs that the BR-163 itself and access roads near the villages are being used as logistics routes for these activities.
That’s why leaders see the PBA-CI’s surveillance and territorial protection measures as essential. Without them, the communities lose key tools for defending their land.
The courts have started to respond. On September 2, the judge of the Federal Civil and Criminal Court of Altamira ordered Funai, the Federal Prosecutor’s Office and Via Brasil to respond on the immediate payment of minimum amounts. That payment would keep the emergency measures running while the full proposals are reviewed.
photo: Débora Siqueira
"We're doing our part"
“We’re already mobilized to send our message to Via Brasil and Funai about the delay in reviewing and approving the BR-163 PBA. Together with the Indigenous organizations, we brought together our warriors, chiefs and leaders to hold this protest on the highway. We’re doing our part, and we don’t want to wait any longer. We want an immediate response from the concessionaire.”
— Be-i Kayapó, president of Associação Indígena Mantinó
photos: Débora Siqueira
What the Kayapo and Panará are demanding
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01
Immediate formalization of the fourth cycle of emergency measures
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02
An individual technical review of each of their proposals
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03
Continued emergency funding
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04
Completion of Funai's review of the final PBA-CI, with free, prior and informed consultation of the communities on any changes to the timeline
The current cycle ends on September 30. The communities are asking for answers before then.
This highway cuts through Kayapo and Panará territory and profits from it every day. The least the company can do is honor what it owes.
Solidarity with the Kayapo and Panará.
photos: Débora Siqueira
Fighting Fire With Knowledge
Fire has always been part of life in the Kayapo Indigenous Territory. For generations, Kayapo families have used fire to clear and renew their traditional crop fields, following knowledge about when and how to burn that has been passed down over centuries. But the conditions that knowledge was built for are changing.
The Kayapo Territory is home to one of the largest stretches of intact forest in the Amazon, and most of it stays moist enough to resist fire. But it sits at a transition zone. In the south, the forest gradually gives way to savanna, where vegetation is drier and fire spreads more easily. The whole region is also under growing pressure from climate change: this part of the Amazon is steadily getting drier, with more frequent droughts and longer, harsher dry seasons. As the forest loses moisture, a fire that gets out of control can turn into a wildfire that destroys large areas of forest, crops and hunting grounds within days.
This year the risk is even higher. The El Niño climate pattern can bring hotter, drier conditions to the region, which makes every use of fire more dangerous.
The instructor and firefighter, Traiú Assalu Mehinaco, ignites a plot of vegetation dominated by Brachiaria grass using a drip torch as part of a practical exercise during the course.
From September 9 to 11, 2026, the Protected Forest Association (Associação Floresta Protegida, AFP), Brazil’s National Foundation for Indigenous Peoples (Funai), and PrevFogo, the national fire prevention and firefighting center of Ibama (the Brazilian Institute of Environment and Renewable Natural Resources), held a fire management workshop in Kruwanhõngô village, in the Kayapo Indigenous Territory.
The main goal was to help communities prevent forest fires by using fire in their traditional crop fields in a proper, controlled way, drawing on both traditional knowledge and new techniques and equipment.
Kayapo course participants creating a “firebreak” as part of a practical exercise in forest fire prevention and suppression.
Training on the use of blowers for the prevention and suppression of forest fires during the fire management course.
The training reflected that combined approach. Experienced firefighters and instructors from PrevFogo and from Funai’s Integrated Fire Management Coordination provided technical training. They were joined by Traiú Assalu Mehinaco, an Indigenous firefighter and environmental educator from the Xingu Indigenous Territory, and by two Kayapo elders: Takaknhotire Kayapo of Kamoktidjam village and Takakmakoro Kayapo of Kokotkrere village.
Together, participants talked about the climate crisis and how it is affecting the weather, rainfall patterns and the vulnerability of the Kayapo Territory’s forests to wildfires. They also discussed why new strategies are needed to face this challenge, building on traditional knowledge while adopting new tools and methods.
Participants rated the workshop very positively and left motivated to share what they learned with their communities. Over the coming months, the 25 Kayapo participants will carry this work back to their villages and lead fire prevention efforts on the ground.
Before leaving, they made a set of collective agreements. Each participant committed to:
Holding meetings in their own community to raise awareness that every family has a role in preventing forest fires, and that more care is needed in all everyday uses of fire — cooking in the village, fire used on hunting and fishing trips, children playing with fire, and throwing away cigarette butts.
Reviewing how and where their community burns garbage, and taking steps to make this practice safer.
Supporting PrevFogo and Funai teams as they coordinate with communities across the Kayapo Territory, so that any crop fields still waiting to be burned are burned only with technical supervision from PrevFogo. This makes sure all preventive measures are in place and helps avoid forest fires, especially given the possible impacts of El Niño.
The workshop and the participants’ continuing work are the result of a partnership between AFP, Funai and PrevFogo/Ibama. Biome Conservation provides technical and financial support. Additional funding comes from Re:wild, the Bezos Earth Fund, and the Tradition and Future in the Amazon project (Tradição e Futuro na Amazônia), which is managed by Funbio with funding from Petrobras.
Fire Is the Amazon's New Weapon of Deforestation. Guard Posts Are the Answer.
Brazil has genuinely good news this year: Amazon deforestation rates fell to their lowest level since 2013, with 2,874 square kilometers cleared between August 2025 and July 2026 [1]. That’s a 36% drop compared to the previous year. But there’s another headline that seems to contradict it: the number of wildfires across the Amazon rose by more than 30% in the same period, even as the area cleared went down [2].
Fire has become the tool of deforestation, not the byproduct
Photo: Unsplash
Analysts point to a simple incentive: burning is harder to trace back to a specific actor than chainsaw logging is, and scorched land degrades faster into something legally easier to claim. This isn’t a new pattern. Researchers first documented Amazon fire and deforestation decoupling nearly a decade ago, noting that even as annual deforestation rates dropped sharply, the occurrence of fire itself did not decline in step [3]. In 2026 that pattern is intensifying.
Timing makes this worse
Right now, August through October is the Amazon’s dry season, when fire risk typically peaks. This year that ordinary seasonal risk is stacked on top of an unfolding El Niño, historically the single biggest driver of severe Amazon drought and fire years. The 2024 Amazon drought, one of the worst on record, was compounded by El Niño conditions [4].
Forecasts for the exact strength of the current event vary in their specifics: NOAA puts the odds of it becoming a “very strong” event at around 80%, while Ecuador’s CIIFEN estimates roughly 69% odds that it will surpass previous records [5]. Forecasters broadly agree this is shaping up to be a major event, not a weak one, with some projecting it could be the strongest in over 150 years [6]. What forecasters largely agree on is the timing: fire risk is elevated in 2026 as El Niño develops, but the most severe impacts typically lag by about a year, putting the highest risk of a record-breaking fire season in the second half of 2027 [7].
The seasonal forecast for September–November 2026 shows widespread warm anomalies in the equatorial Pacific, with sectors exceeding +3°C, reinforcing the signal of a high-intensity El Niño event. Source: NMME Ensemble Average, CIIFEN.
Intact forests are resilient
Its own humidity suppresses fire spread. What burns is forest that’s already been opened up — fragments with drier, more fire-prone edges, sitting right next to frequently burned pasture and regrowth [8].
Photo: Pedro Peloso
A large-scale, decade-long burn experiment in the southeastern Amazon tested this directly [9]. Intact forest can shrug off a single low-intensity fire. But repeated burning during drought is a different story: it kills most of the trees, cuts canopy cover roughly in half, and lets invasive grasses move in. Forest edges fare worst of all, because that’s exactly where the drying and grass invasion are already most advanced.
The encouraging counterpoint: forest that stays intact keeps that natural resistance. A newer study found that even forests degraded by fire, drought, and windstorms in the southeastern Amazon can recover if left free of new disturbance — though the regrown forest remains more fragile against the next fire or drought [10]. Intact forest resists. Damaged forest doesn’t recover fully before the next hit.
Guard Posts are a shield against deforestation
Within the Kayapo’s roughly 11-million-hectare territorial bloc, we can compare the 9.4 million hectares that receive organized NGO-backed monitoring investment against the 1.2 million hectares that don’t — and deforestation hotspots cluster overwhelmingly in that smaller, unmonitored slice [11] [12].
The mechanism behind that pattern is straightforward: the Kayapo’s surveillance program covers more than nine million hectares through 16 guard posts placed at vulnerable entry points, functioning as both a physical deterrent and a signal that the territory is actively defended [11]. Those monitoring teams are credited with helping prevent the illegal logging, mining, and land invasion that would otherwise open the forest up: the exact process that turns fire-resistant forest into fire-vulnerable edge.
The Capoto guard post.
A Pykatoti guard team beside the official government sign marking the border of Menkragnoti territory.
The bottom line
Fire is increasingly the tool of choice on the Amazon’s frontier. This year’s dry season is landing on top of a developing El Niño whose worst effects, if the last two events are any guide, are still a year out. What determines whether a given hectare of forest survives that combination isn’t luck — it’s whether it stayed intact and defended, or got opened up first. Guard posts and territorial monitoring are one of the few interventions with a documented track record of keeping that first domino from falling.
- Mongabay, “Amazon deforestation alerts fall to lowest level since 2013, Brazilian data show” (August 2026)
- Inside Climate News, “Amazon Deforestation at Eight-Year Low, Report Shows” (May 2026)
- Aragão, L.E.O.C. et al., “21st Century drought-related fires counteract the decline of Amazon deforestation carbon emissions,” Nature Communications (2018)
- PBS News, “Extreme drought, wildfires and deforestation battered the Amazon rainforest in 2024”
- Meteored, “CIIFEN confirma: El Niño se fortalece, con 69% de probabilidad de superar récords” (2026); Nature, “A ‘super’ El Niño could transform the Amazon. Is the world’s biggest rainforest doomed?” (2026), citing NOAA’s ~80% odds of a “very strong” event
- AccuWeather, “The 2026 El Niño could become the strongest in a lifetime”
- Amazon Conservation Association, “A New Twist On El Niño: The Bigger Impacts Will Come In 2027”
- Yale School of the Environment, “Amazon Forests Can Recover From Fire — With Some Caveats”
- University of Colorado Boulder, “Decade-long Amazon rainforest burn yields new insight into wildfire vulnerabilities” (2015)
- “Forest recovery pathways after fire, drought, and windstorms in southeastern Amazonia,” PNAS (2026)
- Kayapo Project, “Defend”
- Biome Conservation / ICFC, “Kayapo Project”
The Ancient Trails Project
The expedition was one of the first field activities of the Ancestral Trails project, approved under the Amazon+10 initiative. Coordinated by the Federal University of Pará (UFPA), the project is developed in partnership with the Federal University of Amazonas (UFAM), the University of São Paulo (USP), the State University of Campinas (Unicamp), the Federal University of Mato Grosso (Unemat) and the Protected Forest Association (AFP). The Amazon +10 initiative also has the support of the State Research Support Foundations (FAPs) of Mato Grosso (FAPEMAT), São Paulo (FAPESP), Amazonas (FAPEAM), and Pará (FAPESPA).
The project seeks to revisit historically important paths from a socio-environmental perspective to better understand the biodiversity of mammals, birds, and aquatic fauna in the context of regional agroextractivist production systems, considering different contexts of conservation and threat to natural resources.
From Kubenkàhnkej to Kokraimoro
The first expedition was carried out between May 31 and June 10, 2026 and its main objective was to reopen an old trail used by the Kayapó people, connecting the Kubenkàhnkej village, on the banks of the Riozinho River, to the Xingu River region, near the Kokraimoro village. The route, approximately 90 kilometers long, represents an important record of the history of occupation and circulation in the territory.
Two teams traveled between the rivers, —the Xingu Team and the Riozinho Team — starting from opposite ends of the trails The teams were composed of Kayapó indigenous and non-indigenous collaborators, including men and women of different age groups. The two teams walked towards the meeting point, reconstructing the ancestral path.
Throughout the expedition, in addition to the reopening of the trail, traditionally managed Brazil nut trees, old areas of Indigenous occupation and traces of local fauna were identified and recorded. As part of the project’s scientific protocol, camera traps were also installed to inventory the region’s biodiversity.
The route revealed an expressive diversity of Amazonian environments, including upland forests with large trees and open understory, old scrublands with dense vegetation and an abundance of lianas, shoal areas dominated by palm trees and waterlogged soils, as well as igapós subject to flooding during the rainy season.
More than reopening a trail, the expedition strengthened the exchange between traditional knowledge and scientific research, laying the foundations for the next stages of the project. The information obtained will be fundamental for the planning of the main expedition, scheduled for the first half of 2027, when the team will be expanded with researchers from the areas of anthropology, archeology, ecology and other specialties.
A week at the heart of the Bákra Forest School
I think it must have been difficult to name Bákra: The Kayapó Forest School, because it is so many things at once. It is a school, but it is also a thriving ecosystem that lifts up elders, creates equitable jobs, and builds community through shared joy.
Each week, a new group of 20–30 Kayapó arrived at Kamotidjam — and then at the Bàkra campus, Kajgodjam, once it was ready to host them — and they arrived in force. The elders always arrived enthusiastic and ready to hit the ground running, decked out in their traditional attire: feather headdresses, beaded bracelets, armbands and necklaces, painted in vibrant jenipapo, the Amazonian fruit traditionally used by Indigenous peoples to stain their skin.
With each group, we did a round of introductions to start. I thought it was endearing how each of the elders would stand up and make a large speech about how they were excited to be there and the importance of the program — and then each of the students would stand up and shyly whisper their name and the name of their village.
Faces marked in Jenipapo and urucum,
Bákra worked on an intense schedule of activities, driven by what the elders wanted to teach and where they wanted to take their students. A typical week looked like this.
A week at the forest school
Tents, the circle, and the first story
The group arrived in the afternoon from their villages. After everybody set up their tents and settled in, we formed a conversation circle so that everyone could introduce themselves, and our Indigenous coordinators presented the schedule, rules, and expectations of the program. We passed out the t-shirts and student kits while the cooks started preparing dinner. An elder would often tell a traditional story on this first night.
Jenipapo, then into the forest
The people who didn’t arrive already fully painted would paint each other in jenipapo in preparation for entering the forest. They would often paint me as well. I loved the process, and it was always exciting to see what design they would come up with — I rarely wore the same one for very long, as the stain faded pretty quickly, and one of our coordinators, Bekwykukati, would always call me over to redo my paint when it started to fade from my face. In Kayapó culture, many people prefer to be painted before dancing, so it was essential to paint everybody at the start of the program, because there was lots of dancing to come.
Getting painted with Urucum was a part of every morning before heading out into the forest.
After everybody got painted, our coordinator — or a returning student who knew how to use the cameras and camera traps — gave a brief lesson before we ventured into the forest, usually to a mud pit to install the traps. The elders led the group and pointed out animal paths or hotspots that would make good locations. The students verified that each camera had enough battery and a SIM card installed before deploying them on tree trunks, low to the ground.
Once everybody had their cameras installed, we headed back to camp to eat lunch and relax before the afternoon handicraft — usually the men doing one activity and the women another. The women might paint fabric with their traditional designs while the men wove baskets or other items. After dinner, the whole group might dance together under the stars or around a fire.
Ronko, the Piti tree, and the drones
In the morning we set out early — usually by boat, then on foot — to one of a variety of traditional sites. One was Ronko, an abundant grove of coco de babaçu, a delicious food that tasted a bit like coconut and was also used to make oil for hair or cooking. The grove was home to an enormous Piti tree where we would often do traditional dances and sing traditional songs.
There was also a nice clearing that was great for teaching the students how to launch and collect the drones. We would try to get an aerial view of the site and talk about why it was important and how drones can be used for territorial monitoring. The elders usually stuck to the back of the group, collecting plants and barks that might be useful as medicines or in that afternoon’s handicrafts — and if we came across an açaí tree, people took turns trying to climb it to cut down the fruits at the top.
Later, after lunch, the women would often bead, crochet, or prepare a traditional meal like Berarubu, while the men made a feather headdress or a wooden war club. At night, the whole group gathered by the fire as an elder told a traditional story. My favorite was the one about the man who fell in love with a woman in the stars, who eventually brought down all the good foods they enjoy eating today — manioc, pumpkin, and papaya.
An elder teaching the girls how to crochet the traditional leg bands that the young children wear.
Berarubu in the making — manioc flour and meat folded into banana leaves, hands working together across generations.
Layering and wrapping the parcel before it goes to the coals.
What the cameras caught
In the morning we set out to collect the camera traps from the first day, and everybody came back into camp itching to see the photos. We would pull them up on a laptop and the whole group gathered around to ooh and ahh at everything the cameras caught. It was exciting to see the biodiversity we captured in just four days — tapirs, anteaters, a variety of birds, and, surprisingly for me, deer similar to those I saw in my backyard growing up in Virginia.
Registering students for the Forest School.
After coffee and breakfast, the group departed — and we reset for the next one.
What eight weeks held
Eight weeks of this schedule was a lot. A lot of personal growth, a lot of immersion within the Mebengôkre-Kayapó culture, a lot of time to practice speaking Mebengôkre, and a lot of opportunity to actually form relationships with the people whose association I had been working in for the past year.
The importance of this program is undeniable. The passing down of culture and tradition has stagnated — young women struggling to climb the açaí trees their grandmothers scale with ease, young men not knowing the words to their traditional songs.
Indigenous-Led Conservation: Matt's Journey to Kayapo Territory
May 18–19 · Washington DC to Peixoto de Azevedo
I had the pleasure to participate in several institutional strengthening and governance meetings with two partner Kayapo associations, the Instituto Raoni and Instituto Kabu. My IR meetings took place at their headquarters in Peixoto de Azevedo and IK during their annual general assembly in the village of Pykany.
Traveling to these meetings is not easy. First, I connected on a series of flights from DC → Panama → Brasilia, where I was able to meet (and rest) briefly with Dr. Adriano Jerozlimski, Director, Kayapo Project in Brasil.
The Journey Begins
Early the morning of May 19, I flew to Sinop, a medium sized city in the state of Mato Grosso, the heartland of the Brazilian industrial agricultural sector, where I met my uber driver Andre and we headed north on the BR-163, the “Soybean Highway.” 4 hours and 200km later, we arrived in Peixoto de Azevedo. Along the road, corn pellets flew from the back of large trucks and battered the windshield of the Chevrolet Montana. In Peixoto, gold mining is 90% of the economy and statues all over the town pay tribute to the economic past time:
A billboard on the edge of town addresses the gold-mining debate.
A statue honoring the garimpeiro, the local gold prospector.
Gold-buying storefronts light up downtown at dusk.
That afternoon, the Instituto Raoni was unable to meet. Cacique Raoni had fallen ill and they were meeting with his team of doctors to arrange for the best possible treatment. We made arrangements to meet the following day in the office.
May 18–19 · Washington DC to Peixoto de Azevedo
Meeting the Instituto Raoni
The Instituto Raoni is a small building off the BR- 163. The offices and rooms inside are organized by department. There is a room for the executive team, the communications team, the finance team, the women’s department and the bioeconomy and sales team. I spent my first day with IR meeting the team and co-working with the Bioeconomy and sales team. For me, this was a special moment. I started working with the Kayapo in 2014 and joined the Kayapo Project team in 2023. These were my first minutes with IR outside the pressure of an assembly, budget, or project meeting. Having some informal time to be present with the team, get to know the personalities, hobbies, and spaces they navigate will be incredibly helpful as we continue to work together and collaborate.
At IR with bio economy and women's departments
A trophy case inside the Instituto Raoni headquarters.
Products from IR’s bioeconomy and sales department.
I worked with the IR team for the next three days, spending time in conversation and at lunch with the finance and executive teams, discuss how we can best support IR’s territorial and cultural conservation initiatives, how to improve dialogue and process, and also sharing ideas around future initiatives with the IR such as the Kayapo Forest School, currently in operation along the Xingu and Riozinho Rivers.
On Friday May 22nd, the whole team was in the office and I gave a short presentation on Biome Conservation, The Kayapo Project in general and a few of the initiatives I work on such as the forest school, field course, and a media at the guard posts. The leadership team and others who had just returned from the Pykany village, where I would be headed in a few days, joined me. To round out my visit, I had a chance to visit with Cacique Raoni, thank him for his leadership, and wish him a speedy recovery.
With the IR team and Kayapo leaders in Peixoto de Azevedo.
Presenting on Biome Conservation and The Kayapo Project, with Cacique Raoni in attendance.
The Road to Pykany | BR-163
From Peixoto to Pykany
From Peixoto I was back on the Soy highway, this time traveling with Brasilia-based Kayapo project colleague Igor Richwin Ferreira toward the village of Pykany for the annual assembly of the Instituto Kabu. 250 km later, we arrived to the town of Castelo dos Sonhos, historically a hotbed of deforestation activity.
Concerned about driving through the forest at night to Pykany, we stayed in a hotel. In the morning, we met up with colleagues from the Instituto Socioambiental and began the journey from the town to the forest, watching the landscape change from dusty frontier town to ranchlands to close canopy forest. Along the way, we stopped for coffee and conversation at one of the 19 Kayapo Guard posts, navigated a precarious wooden bridge, and passed through a set of small villages along the dirt road to Pykany in the heart of the TI Menkragnoti.
A signpost marking the villages along the route, Pykany included.
Crossing one of the precarious wooden bridges along the way.
The landscape closes into dense canopy forest en route to Pykany.
Pykany Village I TI Menkragnoti
The Instituto Kabu General Assembly
The general assemblies are an opportunity for the leadership of the represented communities to come together to learn about the previous year’s activities, deliberate, discuss and approve the budget and activities for the coming year. It is also one of the only times that all the Kayapo leadership is in the same place at the same time with their external collaborators. These events are a unique opportunity to absorb the full spectrum of Kayapo initiatives, particularly those that sit outside the portfolio of Biome and the Kayapo Project. I met IK leadership, community leaders, and institutional peers to discuss ways we can all work together toward the mission of Kayapo territorial and cultural protection.
During the meeting, I presented to a large audience of Kayapo chiefs, once again sharing the work of Biome and the Kayapo Project including the territorial monitoring and surveillance program, the Kayapo Forest School, and opportunities for tourism and exchange with IK communities. My presentation was reinforced by Patkore and other representatives from the Protected Forest Association, who added details and cultural clarifications to my conversation. I am pleased to say that the Instituto Kabu has approved the implementation of the Kayapo Forest School in 2027 to complement their other initiatives.
Presenting Biome and Kayapo Project initiatives.
Kayapo leaders gathered in full traditional dress for the assembly.
May 30 | The Journey Home
Reflections on The Road Back
It takes three days to get home. First a long drive back from the forest to Castelo dos Sonhos. Then, the full 450km return trip, once again having the truck assaulted by fragments of corn and soy along the BR-163. A night in Sinop followed by planes from Sinop→Brasilia→Panama and finally Washington DC. Over the three days I was struck by a few important concepts:
The Kayapo Project is Indigenous-led Conservation
It is the Kayapo and their representative association who are implementing the programs, taking the risks, and putting in the hard work. Our job must be to leverage our positions to amplify their stories and provide the necessary support for success.
The Kayapo Project is a vast local → global ecosystem of collaboration and projects.
Not just in my visits, but also in the stories of our Kayapo collaborators. While I was there, I met a colleague from Greenpeace who was arranging a trip for Kayapo representatives to visit Europe for support. In the past, I’ve met folks from the German Embassy, Conservation International, Re:wild and other peers working to support the Kayapo. The work also covers a full spectrum of activities from sewing and artisan projects to environmental reviews of the potential train that may run alongside the BR-163.
The Kayapo are uniquely threatened and conservation can only go so far.
The regional economies are overwhelmingly anchored in intensive, extractive activities such as mining, logging, and agriculture. Without providing alternative economic activities to the Kayapo and their Brazilian neighbors, the threat on Kayapo lands will persist.
The Kayapo Project Team is an incredible, international, intercultural group.
Every time I visit the Kayapo Project partners, I am in awe of the intercultural and professional skills of our Brazil-based colleagues who work day (and night) in and out to ensure that the projects move forward. Their phones are an endless stream of voice notes and messages with an infinite set of demands and questions.
– Matthew Aruch
Support the Kayapo
For more information or to support the Kayapo, please contact Matthew Aruch
Large Scale Conservation
Kayapo territory, spanning approximately 9.4 million hectares across the southeastern Amazon, is one of the largest continuously protected Indigenous forest landscapes on Earth. Here, the forest is not a fragment. It is whole, connected, and alive.
Stability at Scale
Across the Amazon and beyond, once-continuous ecosystems are being fragmented into smaller and smaller patches broken apart by roads, agriculture, mining, and expanding infrastructure. What remains are often isolated fragments, no longer large enough to sustain the full systems that once thrived there. But in some places, the original scale still exists.
For decades, the Kayapo people have defended their lands against encroaching deforestation: from illegal logging and gold mining to expanding agriculture. Through strong governance systems, including territorial monitoring and guard posts, they have maintained the integrity of their forest across millions of hectares.
This continuity creates stability across a vast, intact landscape. It allows the forest to function as a system, not just a collection of trees, but a living, interconnected whole. And it is precisely this kind of large-scale stability that makes forests so important for climate stability.
Kayapo territory stores an estimated 720 million metric tons of above-ground carbon. Keeping this carbon locked in trees and soils helps prevent massive greenhouse gas emissions that would otherwise accelerate climate change.
Large forest systems are more resilient to drought, fire, and external pressures. When protected over time, they provide a form of climate security that smaller, fragmented forests cannot.
Kayapo Territory seen from space, surrounded by forest fires.
Life Needs Space
Wide-ranging species like jaguars depend on vast territories to hunt, reproduce, and maintain healthy populations. Their presence signals something deeper: a complete and functioning food web beneath them. From large herbivores like tapirs and peccaries to birds, fish, and countless smaller species, each layer of life depends on the others.
In fragmented forests, these relationships begin to break down. Species lose the ability to move, populations become isolated, and ecological balance is lost.
In Kayapo territory, the scale of the landscape allows life to move freely. Rivers like the Xingu and Iriri still run largely undisturbed, supporting rich aquatic ecosystems. Forests remain connected across vast distances, enabling species to roam, adapt, and thrive.
The rainforest creates its rain
Through evapotranspiration, trees release vast amounts of water vapor into the atmosphere, recycling moisture and feeding clouds. This process sustains rainfall locally and helps transport moisture deep into the continent through what we call “flying rivers.” These aerial flows carry water across thousands of kilometers, influencing rainfall patterns far beyond the forest itself.
Large, intact forests are essential to this system. When forests are fragmented or degraded, this moisture cycle weakens, with potential impacts on ecosystems and agriculture across South America.
As one of the largest intact forest blocks in the southeastern Amazon, Kayapo territory plays a critical role in maintaining this hydrological system. Its scale helps ensure that the forest continues to function as a living engine of water and climate.
Kayapo territory shows that when forests remain whole, they function as stable, living systems that sustain climate, biodiversity, and water cycles. Protecting forests at scale is about maintaining the conditions that make life on Earth possible.
The Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation launches a new partnership with Associação Floresta Protegida
Safeguarding Indigenous Land and Culture: Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation Announces Partners with the Associação Floresta Protegida and the Kayapo People in the Brazilian Amazon
The Mebêngôkre-Kayapó-led Associação Floresta Protegida (AFP – Protected Forest Association) and the Kayapo Project are pleased to announce a new partnership with the Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation’s Forest and Communities Initiative (FCI). This collaboration will help strengthen the Kayapó people’s long-standing efforts to safeguard approximately 9.4 million hectares of tropical forest across six federally demarcated Indigenous Territories in south-central Pará and northern Mato Grosso.
Home to nearly 12,000 people, these lands form a vital ecological barrier against deforestation in one of the most threatened regions of the Amazon Basin. Together, The Prince Albert of Monaco Foundation and the AFP will fortify the protection of Kayapo culture and lands through community-led education and territorial monitoring and surveillance programs.
From 2026-2028, the FCI will work with the AFP and the Kayapo Project to support and implement the Kayapo Forest School to prepare the next generation of Kayapo leaders. Each year, the Kayapo Forest School will provide hundreds of Kayapo youth a five-day field program that integrates traditional Indigenous knowledge with conservation technologies such as drones and camera traps. Each year of the partnership, the Kayapo Forest school will expand to other regions of the Kayapo managed Indigenous lands.
At the same time, the FCI will support the Kayapo territorial monitoring and surveillance guard post program. The guard post program trains and employs more than 1,500 Kayapo guardians to protect more than 2200km of Kayapo border from invasion. The guard posts are a clear signal that the Kayapo are organized and prepared to protect their territory from land invasions.
Together, these initiatives will ensure that Kayapo lands and culture are safeguarded for future generations.
Patkore Kayapo, President of AFP said: “The Forests and Communities Initiative provides important resources directly to Indigenous associations and communities. The partnership with the Prince Albert of Monaco Foundation will provide essential support for the protection of Kayapo culture, rivers, lands, and biodiversity. The partnership reinforces durable Indigenous governance and autonomy.”
Romain Ciarlet, Vice-Chairman and CEO, Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation, added: “Protecting the world’s forests requires strong partnerships with those who have safeguarded them for generations. Indigenous peoples are not only guardians of biodiversity; they are key actors in the global response to climate and environmental challenges. Through the Forests and Communities Initiative, the Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation is committed to strengthening Indigenous-led conservation by supporting local governance, education and territorial protection.”
About the Forests and Communities Initiative
The mission of the Forests and Communities Initiative is to support conservation of forest ecosystems through the action of indigenous peoples and local communities (IP and LCs) and through the development of a supporting network of actors providing a multidisciplinary set of expertise. To learn more about the Forests and Communities Initiative, visit www.forestsandcommunitiesinitiative.org.
About the Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation
Founded by HSH Prince Albert II of Monaco in 2006, the Foundation is a global non-profit organisation dedicated to advancing planetary health for current and future generations. It co-creates initiatives and supports hundreds of projects in three priority areas: the Mediterranean Basin, the Polar Regions, and the Least Developed Countries (as classified by the United Nations). Its key missions include preserving endangered species, protecting freshwater ecosystems, developing a sustainable blue economy, and supporting the younger generations.
About the Kayapo Project
The Kayapo Project, a flagship program of Biome Conservation, is an Indigenous-led NGO alliance ensuring Mebêngôkre-Kayapo (Kayapo) cultural, economic, political, and territorial autonomy over more than nine million hectares of federally demarcated Indigenous lands located in the highly threatened southeastern Amazon. For more on the Kayapo Project, visit kayapo.org.
About Associação Floresta Protegida
The Associacao Floresta Protegida is an Indigenous-led nonprofit organization based in Tucumã, in the Brazilian State of Pará. The AFP works with 43 communities in the Kayapo, Menkragnoti, and Las Casas Indigenous Territories. Visit florestaprotegida.org.br to learn more.
Reflection on My First Four Months in Brazil with the Kayapo Project
This article was originally published online by the Dartmouth College Center for Social Impact.
Hi! My name is Claire Wigglesworth ’25, and I am a Lewin Fellow working with the Kayapo Project’s Associação Floresta Protegida (AFP – Protected Forests Association) in Pará, Brazil. The Kayapo Project supports Mebengokre Kayapo autonomy and culture, work that also contributes to protecting an enormous expanse of territory within Brazil’s arc of deforestation.
From Conservation Studies to Community Work
I’ve long been drawn to conservation and environmental protection work. Before coming to Dartmouth, I worked with two AmeriCorps conservation corps. Although I majored in Biology and minored in Environmental Studies, I realized during my junior year that I wanted to support local, grassroots initiatives through NGO work, not just study ecosystems without interacting with communities.
When I learned about the Lewin Fellowship, I saw the perfect pathway to do that. The fellowship allowed me to collaborate directly with a locally led organization – one I otherwise couldn’t have worked with, and to contribute my skills in a meaningful, community-centered way.
I had read about the Kayapo Project before, so I reached out to my now-advisor, Matt Aruch, Director of Indigenous Programs at Biome Conservation (a North American partner of AFP). He was enthusiastic about the possibility of me spending the year with AFP and highlighted two major areas where I could contribute: strengthening communications between the partner organizations and supporting the ecotourism and education programs. Both of these programs prioritize Kayapo leadership and decision-making, with key planning happening at large annual assemblies of village chiefs and representatives.
Connecting with the Kayapo Project
I had read about the Kayapo Project before, so I reached out to my now-advisor, Matt Aruch, Director of Indigenous Programs at Biome Conservation (a North American partner of AFP). He was enthusiastic about the possibility of me spending the year with AFP and highlighted two major areas where I could contribute: strengthening communications between the partner organizations and supporting the ecotourism and education programs. Both of these programs prioritize Kayapo leadership and decision-making, with key planning happening at large annual assemblies of village chiefs and representatives.
First Experiences in Kayapo Territory
Soon after graduation, it was time to move to Tucumã, a small town near the Kayapo territory. Before beginning my fellowship work, I participated in the Field Course Program, which brings university students to A’ukre, one of the Kayapó villages, for an international exchange. This experience was invaluable.
It grounded me in the history of the project and allowed me to learn about Kayapo culture through everyday life: storytelling around the fire, daily river baths, fishing, and long walks together in the forest to Brazil nut groves and Mahogany stands.
At the same time, it was impossible to ignore the pressures facing Indigenous communities in Brazil. On the eight-hour bus ride from Marabá to Tucumã, hundreds of miles of formerly pristine rainforest, now pasture, flashed by the windows. Later, flying by small prop plane into the territory, we could see the vast mining operations pressing up against the border of Kayapo lands.
In later conversations with Kayapo leaders, I learned about aggressive offers from miners and loggers to pillage their territory in exchange for pennies, as well as proposals for questionable carbon credit deals.
Rethinking Conservation
When I finally arrived in Tucumã to begin my fellowship, I expected to jump straight into my planned project. Instead, I was encouraged to slow down, accompany others in their work, and learn first: learn how to work with the Kayapo, how meetings are conducted, and how relationships and trust shape every aspect of collaboration.
This slower start, I’ve realized, has been essential for understanding the deeper context of the work and for beginning to contribute in a respectful and effective way.
This experience has reshaped my definition of what effective conservation work actually means and pushed me to question a lot of American ideals of community and work.
This experience has reshaped my definition of what effective conservation work actually means and pushed me to question a lot of American ideals of community and work.
The pillars of conservation in the US are our national park system, a system that only permits use for recreation and is almost entirely situated on indigenous land. It’s a system that has a history of excluding indigenous people. In contrast, The Kayapo Project has achieved an incredible level of success by supporting indigenous people in living their traditional way.
I think that going forward, it would be impossible for me to work on any conservation project without thinking about who the original owners of the land are and whether or not they are being included in land management and decision making. This experience has certainly challenged my ideas of what effective conservation means. My thoughts now have changed more to mean that conserved land can still be in use.
Looking Ahead
Looking forward to the rest of the year, I am preparing for the forest school sessions. The forest school teaches a combination of traditional knowledge rooted in the local environment as well as modern technologies useful in the fight for territorial protection such as drones, camera traps and cameras.
We are working to create lesson plans that include the youth participants in dialogues about current AFP projects with plans to film these lessons for future use during the school sessions this year.
I’m planning to spend about a month in the field for the forest school programming as well as other trips in and out supporting several ecotourism trips. Additionally, I’ll be starting to teach English lessons to the indigenous staff at AFP interested in learning which will help them better communicate with foreign tourists and foreign donors.
Jaguars Thrive on Kayapo Land
Jaguars thrive on Kayapo Land
Jaguars are one of the most emblematic apex predators of South America and despite their historic range stretching from Mexico to Argentina they face mounting threats. Their survival is jeopardized by habitat fragmentation, over-hunting of their prey, and growing conflict with farmers. As we approach International Jaguar Day, it’s more important than ever to highlight places where jaguars are still thriving. One of those strongholds lies in the Southeast Amazon, under the guardianship of the Kayapo people.
Nine million hectares of continuous, unfragmented forest: that’s what it takes for apex predators to thrive.
Jaguars Need Space
Apex predators like jaguars need vast, uninterrupted territories to roam, hunt, and reproduce. This is where the Kayapo’s Indigenous land becomes critically important. Their territory covers around 9 million hectares of pristine, primary rainforest — a continuous, non-fragmented block that provides the scale jaguars require to maintain healthy populations.
Located in southeast Amazonia, this Kayapo territory is under constant pressure from industrial agriculture, logging, and mining. Yet by protecting this massive block, the Kayapo not only conserve jaguar habitat, but also maintain ecological connectivity. Their land helps link together other critical Indigenous landscapes — including territories extending toward the Xingu Indigenous Park (Parque Indígena do Xingu) upstream along the Xingu River.
Jaguars Need Food
Space alone isn’t enough — jaguars also depend on abundant prey. The Kayapo people have lived in these forests for millennia, managing resources sustainably and with restraint. Their traditional patterns of hunting are low-impact; they take only what is needed and respect the balance of wildlife populations.
To enforce that balance, the Kayapo maintain a network of guard posts and community patrols. These act as a real deterrent to poachers, illegal fishers, and other outside threats. As a result, prey species remain abundant, meaning jaguars have plenty of food — a sign of a healthy, functioning ecosystem.
Abundant prey and healthy jaguars are proof of a thriving, well-protected ecosystem.
Follow Their Tracks
One of the most exciting ways to understand jaguar ecology is through camera trapping. By placing motion-triggered cameras in carefully selected locations, we can “catch” jaguars (and their prey) on film — without disturbing them.
For a hands-on experience, consider joining our Field Course in 2026. You’ll head into the field to place camera traps, interpret tracks, and learn how this powerful tool is used across the Amazon to monitor wildlife.
