Co-creating future imaginaries in the heart of the Amazon, blending fieldwork, local knowledge, and new media for creative expression.

The 21st century is a crucial moment to reinvent our presence on the Biosphere. The Amazon, a biome of continental proportions, holds the planet’s greatest biodiversity and is also home to an extraordinary plurality of cultures and ways of existing. Forests cannot be separated from the people who inhabit them daily, co-creating knowledge, culture, and survival with the ecosystems around them.

It was in this context that I spent the summer of 2025 in the Brazilian Amazon with the support of the PKG Fellowship, advancing the research line Amazonian Urban Futures, a collaboration between the MIT City Science Group and local partners. As COP30 approaches in Belém, the Amazon emerges not only as an ecological frontier but also as a space for new imaginaries—pointing us toward pluriversal futures.

Getting there

We left behind the towers of Belém to enter the Caxiuanã National Forest, where roads are scarce and rivers serve as the main highways. Our first leg was a 16-hour ride on a traditional riverboat, hammocks swaying with families and piles of goods moving alongside us. My workshop partner, biologist Taiane Novaes, and I drifted as the landscape gradually transformed. Endless water and forest unfolding before us, setting the tone for everything that would follow.

The next day, as we docked at the last stop in the town of Portel, we met Martin, the keeper of the Caxiuanã Scientific Station (our host base). He helped us gather diesel, food, and supplies for the days we would spend in the community, cut off from the outside world. We also brought laptops, a projector, and other workshop equipment. The final two hours of travel took us by speedboat to the station itself.

Arriving at the Science Station 

We arrived at the Ferreira Penna Science Station, which would be our home and base for the days ahead. It was striking to find such a complete infrastructure in the heart of the forest: laboratories, library, auditorium, infirmary, dining hall, and housing for up to 200 people. Since its founding in 1994, the station has become a living laboratory of Amazonian socio-biodiversity, hosting long-term research in botany, zoology, ecology, and the human sciences. Among its flagship projects is ESECAFLOR, the world’s largest and longest-running experiment on forest resilience to drought.

Equally important are the nearby riverine communities, whose knowledge and daily relationship with the forest make much of this science possible. Many community members work with the station as field technicians, guides, and collaborators. It was within this web of science and local knowledge that we began our journey. 

When we arrived, the Station was overrun by grasshoppers in an unprecedented infestation — likely an early sign of climate change, even in such a well-preserved forest.

Meeting the Community

On our first day in Caxiuanã, we visited the small riverine community of Vale da Benção, home to fewer than one hundred people and the place where most of our workshop participants live. There, we finally met Benedito, the community leader who had been coordinating logistics with me over WhatsApp until then. Ten participants joined us, ranging in age from teenagers to people in their fifties, and we gathered in a communal room beside the community church.

We began by introducing ourselves through objects that represented us. I shared a bag of baru nuts, native to my hometown in Brazil, which quickly became a hit. That same day, we planned the collective boat expedition we would take the following morning. To guide this, we invited participants to draw a communal map of the territory. It was a moment to practice listening more than speaking, letting the map emerge from their lived experiences.

As we mapped, I realized that many—especially the younger ones—had never traveled beyond the well-worn paths linking the community to the Science Station and to Portel, the nearest town. Distances are vast, and the cost of diesel makes exploration rare. This time, however, we designed a route that would take us all somewhere new. While sketching and planning, we shared fresh bread baked by Amaral’s wife and bowls of açaí with farinha, both prepared locally and with enormous care.

The Expedition 

The next morning, we set out on our expedition, guided by Benedito and Joca, who lent us his small boat. For many in the group, it was the first time venturing beyond familiar waters, navigating by the shapes of trees and landmarks known only to the elders. The sense of shared surprise and discovery charged the day with awe.

We met early at the community, loading the boat with food for lunch, water, coffee, diesel, and rubber boots for everyone—essential protection against snakes in the forest. Over the course of the day, we visited two main sites.

The first and furthest, Retiro, was two hours away. Decades ago, this place was home to a community that was removed when the federal government began transforming the region into a national forest. Families were encouraged to leave in exchange for compensation. What remains is a “secondary forest,” or floresta suja, vegetation that has regrown after human occupation.

Our second stop, about half an hour back toward the community, was Batelão, a “primary forest,” or floresta limpa, a forest with no record of recent human settlement. To me, the differences between the two weren’t obvious, but to Benedito and the older participants, they were unmistakable: in Batelão, the trees stood taller, the canopy was denser,  the layer of fallen leaves thicker, and there were fewer mosquitoes.

It was striking that the group had chosen to compare these two landscapes, as if we were looking at different times of human dwelling in the forest: a pre-occupation, a post-occupation, and their own community as a current occupation—each at once the future and the past of the other.

We sank into thick layers of fallen leaves, swatted swarms of mosquitoes, and sweated through the heavy heat, but the mood remained joyous. I encouraged participants to photograph, record sounds, and collect plants, seeds, or insects that caught their attention, giving them prompts to sharpen their observations. The excitement on their faces, and the sense of wonder we all shared. made it a day we will remember for the rest of our lives.

 Portraits  - At our second stop, we came upon a towering Angelim tree. Benedito, guiding us through the forest, spoke of his fascination with these giants of the Amazon. Majestic in scale yet born from seeds so tiny, a living reminder that even the greatest beings begin small.

I invited the students to stand before the tree for portraits that would later serve as the base for their projects. Through the camera lens, something unexpected happened: they seemed to fuse with its immense trunk and canopy, as if revealing an ancient kinship between people and forest. For a moment, they were not just standing by the Angelim, they were part of it.

Some of the plants and organic materials collected by students during the expedition. In the forest, everything is at once dead and alive, feeding and being fed

Imersion at the Station

After the expedition, we spent the following days living together at the Science Station to make the most of our time. Each day became an exchange of experiences: students shared stories about their lives and communities, while I spoke about my life in the U.S. and my hometown, Brasília. The conversations focused on global challenges—climate change, ecological transformations, and the future of the Amazon—sharing stories about personal lives, community challenges, and hopes for the future. These discussions highlighted contrasts between the pressing social and environmental issues and the unique challenges faced in the remote forest, such as access to services and preservation of traditional knowledge.

We explored the plants, sounds, and photographs collected during the expedition, reflecting on why each participant was drawn to specific specimens and what these materials revealed about their world. Cinema sessions served as a springboard for discussion, inspiring debates and imaginative thinking about the future. We also examined emerging technologies, asking students to vote on whether they would embrace or reject both high-tech and ancestral innovations for their communities. This period was a moment of deep exchange, co-learning, and shared reflection, and it also helped keep the students connected to the Science Station, strengthening their relationship to the facility and its potential as a bridge to future possibilities for them.

Future Forest — Envisioning 100 Years Ahead

The following hands-on exercise invited participants to imagine themselves and the forest 100 years from now. Each student selected one plant collected during the expedition and reimagined it as a “future plant,” giving it a new name, purpose, and story. Using these sci-fi narratives, the students explored their present challenges and hopes through metaphor: nothing was created that didn’t relate to them personally. Some of the imagined plants were extraordinary: one bore fruits that would always be in harvest, another provided fast, scarless healing for those who adventured through the forest, a liana brought communication and electricity from distant corners of the forest, and yet another promised a cure for cancer—a pressing concern for many nearby communities.

One creation, in particular, moved me deeply: the future Arumã, brought by Janete, one of the elders. She kept the plant’s original name and properties, at first making me think she hadn’t understood the assignment. But her choice carried profound meaning: she envisioned a future where people like her could preserve traditional knowledge and the artistry of weaving Arumã into baskets, keeping both the plant and its cultural heritage alive.

I printed portraits I had taken of each participant during the expedition and asked them to transform them to represent how they see themselves a century from now, as they become part of the forest again. Students layered their portraits with the plants, seeds, and other materials they had collected, crafting deeply personal collages. Each work was accompanied by a short text explaining their vision of the future and why they chose specific plants—a combination of imagination, memory, and reflection.

Exploring AI - Afterwards, we introduced AI to animate the future plants and portraits. For many, it was their first encounter with this technology. Working in small groups around the computer we had brought, students helped one another navigate the tools. The experience was playful and engaging, but it also reinforced a key insight: while the AI animations were exciting, the most transformative moments were analog and tactile. The hands-on act of creating, layering, and reflecting with the materials themselves. The exercise became not only a method of expression but also a space of agency.

Final Event at the Community

On the last day of our workshop, we returned to Vale da Benção to share and celebrate the students’ work with the wider community. As night fell, we projected their animations onto the façade of the community church. Against the pitch-black backdrop of the forest, the moving images created a surreal atmosphere, visions of future forests in the heart of the present one.

There was an unmistakable sense of pride in the way students articulated their creations, speaking not only of themselves but of their community and the futures they wish to shape. Watching their excitement, I was reminded that this project was never only about art or technology: it was about imagination as a form of agency, about connection, and about envisioning possibilities together. Despite our different backgrounds, we—students, mentors, and the forest itself—became entwined in a shared web of learning, adventure, reflection, and care. To imagine the Amazon is to imagine together, with those who know it, inhabit it, and keep it alive.

Those days together are something I will never forget. I leave having learned much about the world, but perhaps even more about myself.

Next Steps

The convergence of cutting-edge science, community collaboration, and vast preserved forest makes the Caxiuanã National Forest uniquely special. This workshop marked a first step toward building long-term collaborations between MIT and the Ferreira Penna Science Station and it was made possible by the PKG Summer Fellowship for Social Impact.

I am profoundly grateful to the students for their creativity and courage, to my co-mentor Taiane Noves for her partnership, and to the community of Vale da Benção for generously sharing their knowledge and opening their doors to us.

The forest’s future begins with the people who call it home.