Story

To believe and to rise again.

Many fantastic stories have been told about the Peruvian Amazon. Every so often, children listen with excitement as their elders recount tales that have echoed through time, fulfilling a cycle repeated for centuries. But no one has ever told a story quite like this one.

Land of Everyone, Land of No One

In some places, the ancestral name still lingers—a name that marked a before and after, a symbol of expansion and conquest led by Pachakuti Inka Yupanki. The name still resonates, along with the chronicles it carries. Amarumayu, the River of the Great Serpent, was the name given by the Incas to what we now know as the Madre de Dios River.

Following their expansion into what we now call Manu, the Incas not only named the river but also built roads that descended along the western slopes of the region, tracing the eastern face of the Andes. Incan ruins have even been found along the Pini Pini River, just southwest of what is now the Manu Learning Centre.

But this territory holds not only the stories of Indigenous peoples and the Incas, but also those of the Spanish. It was deep within the forest that the last Inca ruler, Túpac Amaru, was captured.

In 1563, the first failed attempt to claim the region for the Spanish Crown was led by the explorer Gómez de Tondoya in search of “El Dorado”. Fearing a rebellion, the expedition was aborted.

It wasn’t until three years later that Álvarez Maldonado was dispatched under the same orders, eventually reaching Amarumayu and claiming its rivers, lands and mountains for the Spanish people.

Years later, Colonel Baltazar de la Torre decided to make a peaceful first contact with the native populations. He approached with just three of his seventy soldiers. “¡Amigo!” were his last words, hands raised in peace, before 34 arrows struck him down and two of his men were clubbed to death.

It wasn’t until 1896 that Carlos Fitzcarrald carved a 13-kilometre path, nine metres wide, through what is now known as the Fitzcarrald Pass. Upon reaching the Manu River, he travelled downstream into the then-largely unexplored river system toward the Madre de Dios River, where he encountered Indigenous resistance. The resulting month-long war led to deaths, village burnings, and enslavement. Once Indigenous forces weakened, Carlos established himself as the region’s most powerful and successful rubber baron—until his death in the Urubamba River.

A rainforest reborn | The beginning

In the 1960s, Celestino Kalinowski—known as the father of Manu—faced the threats posed by logging. Moved by the richness of Manu’s biodiversity, he wrote countless letters to the government, pleading for protection. But it wasn’t until he met naturalist John Grimwood that a formal proposal was submitted, leading to Manu’s designation as a protected area.

Just a year later, the proposal was accepted, and Manu became Peru’s first national reserve. In 1973, its status was elevated to National Park, and in 1987 it was declared a World Heritage Site by the IUCN.

Years later, before the founding of the Manu Learning Centre, the land it now occupies was used for agriculture—coffee, sugarcane, and limes—and eventually for cattle grazing. Before the agrarian reform, the land was sold to the state and later given to the Huarán cooperative, which extracted timber and raised cattle.

From 1983 to 2001, activities led by Mr Zambrano and his workers focused on logging and cattle ranching. They extracted valuable tree species such as tornillo or aguano (Cedrelinga cateniformis), cedro (Cedrela angustifolia), mashonaste (Clarisia racemosa), estoraque (Myroxylon balsamum), and shihuahuaco (Coumarouna odorata), primarily from the Mascoitania and Lucumayo ravines.

These activities led to deforestation and the loss of species. Biodiversity in this area of Manu suffered greatly—many species were displaced or driven away. For years, this region’s ecological richness was lost.

But in 2001, a decision was made that would change everything.

Captivated by Manu’s beauty and driven by a deep desire for change, 21-year-old volunteer Quinn Meyer decided to purchase the 643-hectare property that would become the Manu Learning Centre. But it wasn’t until 2003—with the help of Juve—that the purchase was finalised.

Today, those 643 hectares of tropical forest have come back to life. With them, many species have returned.

Quinn Meyer’s vision, founder of Crees Manu, is to transform the Manu Learning Centre into a research hub managed by universities—allowing students from around the world to study, learn, and actively contribute to the protection of a regenerated rainforest.

The Manu Learning Centre is now a biological research station that hosts students, researchers, and visitors from across the globe. But it is also the continuation of a story once marked by conflict, conquest, and loss—now transformed into a symbol of hope.

This story had never been told before, because it is not yet finished. It shows how a former cattle and logging estate is being transformed—once again—into a magnificent rainforest, full of life.