- Scientists from the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute are collaborating with local communities in the Ngäbe-Buglé Comarca, a protected Indigenous territory, to foster a ground-up reforestation strategy using native trees and carbon payments.
- The project involves about 30 plots totaling 100 hectares (247 acres) of land, giving participants full ownership of their trees.
- The approach is based on carbon-sequestration data and other scientific metrics collected from Smithsonian’s Agua Salud research site in Colón.
- The work also leans on economic analyses to ensure that reforestation projects can become reliable and sustainable livelihood strategies for Panama’s rural communities.
ÑÜRÜM, Panama — Isidrio Hernandez-Ruiz has a soft spot for the bright yellow flowers of the guayacan trumpet tree (Handroanthus guayacan), a native species that blooms across Panama each spring. It’s one of many reasons why Hernandez-Ruiz, a rural farmer known locally as a campesino, chose to participate in a reforestation effort to plant native trees across his land that will soon earn him income — without harvesting them. Between the nonnative pines on his land now grows a mix of native trees that promise at least 20 years of payments for the carbon they sequester.
Hernandez-Ruiz’s plot is part of a larger effort to give reforestation a do-over in Panama. The total project spans 100 hectares (247 acres) of planting across 45,000 hectares (111,000 acres) total in a rural district called Ñürüm in the Ngäbe-Buglé Comarca, an officially recognized Indigenous land. The project is co-led by the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute (STRI) and the district’s traditional leadership with financial support from the Rohr Family Foundation and a grant from the U.K. government’s Global Centre on Biodiversity for Climate. Nearly 30 individuals and families chose to participate, and landowners keep full ownership of their land.
The Ngäbe-Buglé Comarca is the largest Indigenous territory in the country, covering more than 9% of Panama’s land area and encompassing two Indigenous groups, the Ngäbe and the Buglé. In Ñürüm, the landscape has been heavily deforested over the decades from burning for cultivation, clear-cutting for cattle and government-sponsored plantations of nonnative pine and teak. And because it’s so remote, there are few economic opportunities.
“We have more chainsaws than we have trees,” Jefferson Hall, a Smithsonian tropical forest scientist and director of the project, recalled one community member saying. The idea of working cooperatively with communities to sequester carbon, boost biodiversity and improve livelihoods seemed like a no-brainer.
But in a world of quick fixes, Hall’s team is taking a long-term approach.

High-value, low-maintenance
Cocobolo (Dalbergia retusa) is the most valuable nitrogen-fixing plant in the project, and Hernandez-Ruiz has planted several on his land. The rich-colored wood, used for carvings and furniture, is worth $3,000 per cubic meter (about $85 per cubic foot) — three times that of high-value mahogany.
“It grows on crappy soils, good soils, grows fast when it’s young, it’s good for covering the land area and it’s got big roots, so it enhances filtration,” Hall told Mongabay during a tour of Hernandez-Ruiz’s plot. “And it’s super water-use efficient.”
Soil types here tend to be acidic, clay soils, he added, with low fertility and low phosphorus.
That’s why zapateros (Hyeronima alchorneoides) are also great timber species that can grow well in these areas, Hall said. They retail for $40-$800 per m3 ($1.13-$22.66 per ft3), offering landowners high value if they ever decide to harvest them.
While these tried-and-true timber species are staples of the Comarca project, the collaboration between researchers and community members is also a real-time trial to see which species grow well and which don’t. They find that macano (Diphysa americana) trees, for example, grow best on fertile soils but are also thriving on poorer soils.
The nance fruit (Byrsonima crassifolia) is another example of a local species researchers hope will flourish. They grow well under drought conditions, an increasing concern in Panama, while providing a great food source for birds and sequestering large amounts of carbon. Plus, the fruit makes a popular juice and ice cream, adding to its commercial value. A high-antioxidant superfood, there’s hope that it could be marketed as a high-value crop for export.

While these plots are experiments to see which species work best, they were selected based on nearly two decades of data collected from Smithsonian’s Panama Canal Watershed Project, a research site in Colón known as Agua Salud. Experimental plots of native tree plantations, mixed land uses, hydrology studies and carbon sequestration measurements all formed the scientific foundation for the applied work being done with the Comarca communities.
“We’re trying to understand how to reboot ecosystems, how to restore hydrological cycles and how to ensure livelihoods and rural landscapes for the future,” Hall said at an April event unveiling a new museum exhibit in Panama City that showcases Agua Salud’s research findings.
The Agua Salud project helps scientists quickly develop ways of measuring ecosystem services, Hall said in an interview.
As an example, data from Agua Salud suggest that water stored in the Chagres National Park ecosystem saved the Panama Canal from disastrous flooding after heavy rainfall in 2010, keeping the canal’s artificial water basin, Lake Alajuela, from overflowing. Without that natural water infiltration, “we would have had 100 million m3 [about 3.5 billion ft3] of water hitting [Madden] Dam,” Hall said, the rough equivalent of 100 million elephants’ worth of water. “Instead of celebrating the expansion of the canal in 2016, they would’ve likely been rebuilding.” In time, Hall’s team plans on measuring the effect of tree-planting on groundwater infiltration at the Comarca too.
Understanding the ways in which climate change is altering environmental conditions is crucial, Hall said, adding that species that once thrived in certain areas may not thrive going forward. Dry seasons, for example, are lengthening due to climate change.
“We’re not trying to restore what was there before,” Hall said. “We’re planting for the future.”

Planting trust before trees
In 1973, government officials from Panama’s environment ministry came to Ñürüm with an offer: Rural landowners could grow pine plantations in exchange for food or money, but it wasn’t clear that they would lose ownership of their land. Among those families was Hernandez-Ruiz.
At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Caribbean pines (Pinus caribaea) grow quickly and could be harvested for timber. But it turned out that pine trees cost more to grow — up to $1,500 per hectare (about $607 per acre), according to a 2023 analysis — than the profit from their sales. (And profits didn’t go to communities.) These plantations also sequester less carbon than native forests.
Because these transactions happened before many of Panama’s Indigenous territories were established, ownership of these plantations is unclear. The decades-long campaign, which also included teak plantations across the country, left disenfranchised people like Hernandez-Ruiz without sustainable livelihoods.
It’s an age-old problem for Indigenous communities across Panama. Often, programs designed to help rural families supply free resources — such as chickens, pigs or coffee beans — without the technical, agricultural or financial support for them to steward those resources in the long term.
These programs also fail to ask communities what they want rather than assuming what they need, explained Daniel Holness, president of the Panamanian Center for Research and Social Action (CEASPA), a human rights advocacy organization working with Indigenous groups across the country. In the end, those assets end up costing communities more money for little to no personal benefit.
“Other projects are not successful because they are not coordinated with all the levels of the community,” Holness said. Indeed, establishing trust with not only the leaders of Ñürüm, but also its residents, was key for Smithsonian’s trust-building.
While the project at this stage is experimental, historian and longtime CEASPA member Francisco Herrera said, they hope it will develop into a self-sustained reforestation project.
“The way that we are trying to work with the community here is unique,” he said, such as by having open discussions with local leadership.
That’s a big deal in a place like Panama, where Indigenous groups had long been ignored and exploited. To date, one Indigenous community is still fighting for land rights with help from CEASPA and its lawyers.
When Smithsonian first approached the community in Ñürüm, people were skeptical — especially following decades of government distrust, explained Pedro Nola Flores, former general president of the Comarca. But Smithsonian’s open conversations went a long way in earning the community’s trust. This transparency, local leadership said, was missing from other proposed livelihood strategies.
There are now more people interested in participating than there are funds to accommodate them — a tough reality Smithsonian staff and Comarca residents hope will inspire more funding to continue and expand the work.
The Smithsonian team, Nola Flores added, will always be welcome.

A new livelihood strategy
It took a full year of community forums and meetings for Smithsonian to complete the free, prior and informed consent process, a legally mandated procedure in Indigenous territories that requires all parties to sign a written agreement. It wasn’t easy.
When researchers first introduced the concept of planting trees to store carbon — carbonoin Spanish — locals misinterpreted it as the very similar Spanish word for coal, carbón, resulting in the misunderstanding that they wanted to mine for coal. Through community meetings, Smithsonian and CEASPA explained carbon sequestration and how climate change is affecting their land.
They also explained compensation and benefits: paying for fencing, seedlings, physical labor and most notably, carbon sequestration. Smithsonian also emphasized that participants can quit the program if they wish, and if they decide to harvest their timber species later on, they’re free to do so.
“We want to help keep smallholders on the land,” Hall said, adding that locals directly benefit from the carbon payment system without the middlemen involved in other large-scale carbon projects. This was a major factor in why the community decided to participate, according to Mongabay’s interviews with local leaders.
Based on research published in 2023, Smithsonian’s team found that annual carbon payments are key to encouraging reforestation over other land uses, such as raising cattle. Unlike other carbon credit systems, payments are area-based rather than growth-based. The analysis inspired a flat carbon payment of $130 per hectare (about $53 per acre) of project land for up to 20 years — which goes directly to Comarca participants — starting after the fifth year of planting.
High establishment costs, the research found, are another main barrier to planting projects, which is why Smithsonian first secured funding commitments from outside organizations. This way, Smithsonian can provide seeds, materials and other tools at no cost to landowners — who are also paid a daily wage for time spent cleaning and maintaining land for planting.
To maximize potential on low-fertility soils with existing vegetation, Smithsonian is using a method called enrichment planting: interspersing commercially valuable timber trees. This way, existing pine and other naturally growing species provide the shade and protection necessary for young saplings.
Typically, carbon markets look for a 30% buffer in carbon storage to help mitigate the risk of fires, logging or other unexpected carbon losses. But at Agua Salud, Hall’s team has secured a 60% buffer and $18 per ton of stored CO2 for carbon payments.
Without this model, Smithsonian’s research found that timber-based reforestation projects wouldn’t be financially feasible — or profitable — for rural and low-resource landowners.
Locals aren’t just beneficiaries of the project, but active participants, Hall said. They help Smithsonian scientists take measurements, maintain the landscape and educate their neighbors about reducing burning practices — the biggest threat to reforestation here, he added.
The monetary resources have been vital to Hernandez-Ruiz and his family, who live in humble homes alongside their farm animals on the side of a mountain. Getting paid $15 a day for his labor has been a major benefit, he said.
The benefits go beyond monetary value. When Nola Flores was young, he recalled, his community had a special connection to the air, soil and water. They cultivated crops by rotating plots of land to allow the soil to regenerate. But now, he notices people are eager to produce as much as possible on the same land year after year, using more agrochemicals than ever before.
In other parts of the Comarca, open-pit mines have polluted water and soil, making the project’s environmental health benefits especially attractive, explained Basilio Rodriguez, the local president of Ñürüm. The Panamanian government continues to explore mining possibilities across their land — something the community vehemently opposes. The Smithsonian project, then, was an opportunity to better safeguard their natural resources.
Over time, they’re hopeful the project could lead to ecotourism opportunities, too, such as guided hikes throughout the region’s rivers and hot springs.
“Since we signed the agreement, Smithsonian continues to have a presence in the area,” Rodriguez continued. And even better, he said, residents reap the benefits of environmental education via community meetings, even if they aren’t direct participants.


Continuing a two-way conversation
The project doesn’t stop at tree-planting and carbon payments. Smithsonian’s research team is also studying pollinators on participants’ plots — specifically, stingless bees.
Yellow-painted plastic cartons hang from some trees in the Comarca project as an experiment in bee behavior. Danny Hernández Cuadra, the Smithsonian scientist leading the research effort, is finding that male bees are drawn to the bright color and defend the cartons to attract mates.
Urbano Guerra, the local cacique — a highly respected position that handles community disputes — is also participating in the bee project to figure out which species pollinate which plants. Guerra’s daughter is collaborating directly with Hernández Cuadra. And Guerra’s son, a self-taught botanist, has helped identify native species by their local names, and in return he has learned their scientific names. This way, locals and scientists are learning from each other.
In June, the Comarca will welcome 25 forestry students from the University of Panama in Penonomé to conduct research with the communities for three months. The idea is to facilitate a two-way knowledge exchange, Hall explained: Students will teach locals how to collect scientific data, and locals will teach students their local knowledge of plants and animals. They will identify insects, measure tree heights and trunk diameter, apply fertilizers, measure soil sequestration and more.
Most of these students come from limited resources, explained Emilio Mariscal, their forestry professor, making the Smithsonian partnership ideal. Because people in the Comarca lack resources, the students will better understand their living situation, with additional training on how to work with Indigenous communities from CEASPA.
“Now that they have the knowledge, they can go back to either their families or other areas to improve [land use] conditions,” he said.

Mentalities in the Comarca are changing too. Inspired by the project and its success after three years of growth, Hernandez-Ruiz has taken it upon himself to plant other types of seeds, which he requests from the Ministry of Agricultural Development, such as fruit and citrus trees for subsistence farming. He’s also starting a small coffee nursery and has previously harvested hot peppers that he sold in town.
With several species of high-value, carbon-sequestering trees on his land, Hernandez-Ruiz will soon begin earning carbon payments. He still doesn’t fully understand the concept of carbon, he admitted, but he’s grateful for Smithsonian’s relationship-building. Now, his sons are participating in the program too.
A carved sign hangs on the gate of one of his neighbors: “The earth is our refuge, and we must protect it.”
Banner image: Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute scientist Danny Hernández Cuadra smiles at a small vial of stingless bees she collected for research. Image by Marlowe Starling for Mongabay.
Editor’s note: Adriana Tapia, Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute’s project manager for the Agua Salud and Ngäbe-Buglé y Campesino Comarca projects, translated all or part of these interviews on the ground.
The Panamanian shamans working to save their ancestral medicinal plants
Citations:
Hall, J.S., Plisinski, J.S., Mladinich, S.K. et al. Deforestation scenarios show the importance of secondary forest for meeting Panama’s carbon goals. Landsc Ecol 37, 673–694 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10980-021-01379-4
Haya BK, Evans S, Brown L, Bukoski J, Butsic V, Cabiyo B, Jacobson R, Kerr A, Potts M and Sanchez DL (2023) Comprehensive review of carbon quantification by improved forest management offset protocols. Front. For. Glob. Change 6:958879. doi: 10.3389/gc.2023.958879
Marshall, A., McLaughlin, B.P., Zerr, C. et al. Early indications of success rehabilitating an underperforming teak (Tectona grandis) plantation in Panama through enrichment planting. New Forests 52, 377–395 (2021). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11056-020-09801-6
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Sinacore, K., García, E.H., Finkral, A. et al. Mixed success for carbon payments and subsidies in support of forest restoration in the neotropics. Nat Commun 14, 8359 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-023-43861-4
Sinacore, K., García, E.H., Finkral, A., van Breugel, M., … Hall, J.S. (2023). Mixed success for carbon payments and subsidies in support of forest restoration in the neotropics. Nat Commun, 14, 8359. doi:10.1038/s41467-023-43861-4
Marshall, A., McLaughlin, B.P., Zerr, C., Yanguas-Fernández, E., & Hall, J.S. (2021). Early indications of success rehabilitating an underperforming teak (Tectona grandis) plantation in Panama through enrichment planting. New Forests, 52, 377–395. doi:10.1007/s11056-020-09801-6