Conservation partners and Indigenous communities working together to restore forests in Guatemala

Light shines through conifer trees on a hillside in the Totonicapan Forest

Each year, the 48 villages of Totonicapán, an Indigenous Maya K’iche region of southwestern Guatemala, gather to elect a council and president that will both protect their 51,892-acre communal forest—and also actively work to restore it. In 2024, the presidency fell to Germán Santos.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime position that I can never repeat,” explains Santos, who carries a ceremonial black baton symbolizing his authority as an Indigenous leader. The role is unpaid, he says, part of a model of voluntary service that the K’iche have practiced for hundreds of years. “It’s a privilege to have this responsibility and I treat it like that. But if I don’t do right by my community, I will bear the weight of their shame.” 

Portrait of German Santos standing in a nursery with conifer seedlings in the background.

The K’iche have successfully managed their natural resources for centuries using their traditional governing body and ancestral knowledge. As a result, Totonicapán is home to Guatemala’s largest remaining stand of conifer forest. It’s also considered the last great stronghold of the endangered Guatemalan fir tree. Yet the pressures of modern life, illegal logging, plant diseases, and increased forest fires fueled by the climate crisis all pose new threats to this region where 150,000 people live.

As president of Totonicapán’s Council of Natural Resources, Santos must diligently monitor the area’s old-growth forests, which play a key role in the K’iche cosmovision—a profound system for interpreting the world that cherishes and observes nature, using its wisdom to produce symbolic meaning in every aspect of life—as the site of sacred rituals. These high-altitude woodlands shelter 127 bird species and myriad mammals, including ocelots, armadillos, and white-tailed deer. Most notably, there are 1,500 freshwater springs here, making the verdant hills of Totonicapán vital to the health and economic advancement of the agriculturists living in valleys below.

Santos has just one year to make an impact on Totonicapán. Yet, there’s a vast network behind him to ensure he has a good chance of succeeding. Long-term conservation partners include Mario Ardany de León, the Guatemala program officer for EcoLogic Development Fund, which works with rural and Indigenous communities in Central America and Mexico to help them safeguard their natural resources.

EcoLogic has spearheaded a large-scale forest restoration project at Totonicapán, where 13 greenhouses now hold about 16,000 plants apiece, including native cypresses, pines, firs, and alders. In good years, up to 125,000 plants will reach maturity in these greenhouses. Then they’ll get dispatched among community members to reforest up to 247 acres of degraded areas.

Ardany de León, who has been an environmental educator for more than 25 years, sees his role here as merely technical support. “These communities have always been organized around the issue of conservation,” he says. “It’s an ancestral practice to care for and protect the forest.”

A big part of Ardany de León’s support comes from drumming up resources.

A close up of a small conifer tree planted in the forest

EcoLogic is a three-time recipient of funds from WWF’s Russell E. Train Education for Nature (EFN) program, which provides financial support for conservation institutions in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Caribbean. EFN’s unique Forest Restoration Grant, in particular, provides financial support to leaders in the Global South to restore degraded and deforested ecosystems, build local capacity, and promote diverse livelihoods.

Funds allotted to EcoLogic helped Ardany de León—an EFN recipient of a professional development grant—scale up the forest restoration project to its current level, giving the 48 cantons of Totonicapán the means to combat seasonal fires, illegal logging, and other threats. At about 2 quetzals (or $0.25) per plant, he says the initiative is a remarkably cost-efficient tool for forest restoration.

The process begins each November when community members gather seeds. These seeds then go into planters that include upcycled coconut fibers and mycorrhizal fungi, which help kickstart fertilization. When the plantings reach about 12 inches, they’re ready for distribution. Planting in the field typically takes place between June and August, with areas key to water security given priority. This year, it falls upon Santos to decide where the needs are greatest.

In addition to the greenhouses, EcoLogic introduced energy-saving stoves to the region that require 60% fewer logs than traditional wood-fired stoves. These fuel-efficient alternatives, which residents use for both cooking and heating homes (a necessity in the Guatemalan Highlands at 7,875 feet in altitude) have dramatically lowered the need to cut trees for firewood.

Agroforestry plots—lands on which farmers intentionally integrate trees and shrubs into crop farming systems to create environmental, economic, and social benefits—and environmental education are two additional methods that Ardany de León hopes will help reduce pressure on the forests of Totonicapán, which the K’iche see as the spiritual source of life. “For the reasons of global warming, of forest fires, of the future of our kids, we all need to contribute and leave a legacy,” says Santos. “What we’re doing may be a very small thing, but I feel that it’s a noble cause.”