Few places on Earth concentrate as much life as Yasuní National Park. In this corner of the Ecuadorian Amazon, where the Napo basin, the equator and the closeness of the Andes all meet, nature reached a level of biodiversity that astonishes scientists: a single hectare of Yasuní can hold more tree species than the whole of North America, and the park is home to thousands of plant species, hundreds of bird species, mammals, amphibians, reptiles and an almost uncountable number of insects. That is why it is considered one of the most biodiverse places on the planet.
But Yasuní is far more than a feat of biology. It is the ancestral territory of the Waorani people and, in its Zona Intangible, home to peoples in voluntary isolation, the Tagaeri and the Taromenane, who chose to live without contact with the outside world. It is also the stage for one of the great dilemmas of our time —oil or conservation— which led to the famous Yasuní-ITT initiative to leave the crude in the ground and, in 2023, to a historic national referendum in which Ecuador voted to halt extraction in block 43-ITT. Declared a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO in 1989, Yasuní is a worldwide symbol of nature and of its defense.
This guide explains, with a practical and warm eye, how Yasuní is really visited: why it is not a destination to do on your own, how to get there (flight to Coca and canoe along the Napo), what kinds of lodges and experiences exist, what wildlife you can see, what clay licks and canopy towers are about, and how to do it with respect for the communities and for a unique rainforest. Visiting Yasuní is looking into the living heart of the Amazon: a transformative experience that asks for preparation, time and the guidance of the people who know and care for this irreplaceable place.
The territory that today makes up Yasuní National Park is the ancestral home of the Waorani people (also called Huaorani or 'Wao'), hunter-gatherers of the Napo and Curaray forests who for centuries lived in relative isolation, with a reputation as warriors and a deep knowledge of the rainforest. From the mid-20th century on, contact with missionaries (especially evangelicals, after the famous and tragic episode of 1956 in which five missionaries were killed) and later with the oil industry transformed their world. In 1979, the Ecuadorian state created Yasuní National Park to protect this exceptional portion of the Amazon, and in 1989 UNESCO declared it a Biosphere Reserve, recognizing its unique biodiversity. Later the Zona Intangible Tagaeri-Taromenane was demarcated, to shield the peoples in voluntary isolation who still live deep in the forest. But beneath that soil so rich in life there are also large oil reserves, which set off a historic dilemma: in 2007, Ecuador launched the Yasuní-ITT initiative, a pioneering proposal to leave the crude of the ITT block (Ishpingo-Tambococha-Tiputini) in the ground in exchange for international compensation, avoiding emissions and protecting the park. The initiative did not secure the expected funding and was abandoned in 2013, and extraction moved ahead. Finally, in August 2023, a national referendum —driven by social, Indigenous and environmental movements— resolved that the oil of block 43-ITT had to stay in the ground and ordered its exploitation to be wound down, a global milestone in the defense of an ecosystem. The full story is on our history page.
Read the full history ↓The Amazonian province of the Napo river, one of the youngest in the Oriente (1998): Waorani and Kichwa land, home to the uncontacted Tagaeri and Taromenane peoples, heart of Yasuní National Park —one of the most biodiverse places on the planet— and of the historic Yasuní-ITT referendum of 2023, with Coca as its oil capital and gateway to the deep rainforest.
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Origins, formation and what the sources say.
Before there was any park, oil block or border, the immense territory we now call Yasuní was —and still is— the ancestral home of the Waorani people (also written Huaorani, and known as 'Wao'). Hunters, gatherers and horticulturalists of the forest between the Napo and Curaray rivers, the Waorani inhabited for centuries, perhaps millennia, one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet, with a knowledge of the rainforest so deep that their culture and the forest are almost inseparable.
The Waorani lived in great isolation, in small family groups scattered through the forest, moving across wide hunting territories. They hunted with blowguns and darts poisoned with curare, and with spears; they gathered fruit and grew cassava and plantain in small clearings. They had a reputation —partly real, partly fed by outside fear— as fierce warriors who defended their territory from intruders, whether other Indigenous peoples, rubber tappers or settlers. That reputation, along with the remoteness of their land, kept them relatively apart from the outside world until well into the 20th century.
Their worldview is closely tied to the rainforest: to the plants, the animals, the spirits of the forest. Today the Waorani people remain the central human actor in Yasuní, and their recent history —of contact, dispossession, resistance and defense of their territory against oil— cannot be separated from the history of the park itself. Understanding Yasuní requires recognizing, first of all, that it is Waorani land.
The 20th century brought two forces to Waorani territory that would change their world forever and that advanced almost hand in hand: religious missions and the oil industry. Until then, the isolation and the warrior reputation of the Waorani had kept most intruders at bay, but the pressures became unstoppable by mid-century.
One of the most famous episodes took place in 1956, when a group of five American evangelical missionaries trying to contact the Waorani were killed by them on the banks of the Curaray river (the well-known 'Operation Auca', from the derogatory name they were given). Far from stopping contact, the episode had enormous repercussions and was followed by a sustained missionary effort —led by figures such as Rachel Saint and the Summer Institute of Linguistics— which, over the following decades, went about 'pacifying', evangelizing and resettling much of the Waorani population into communities, often in order to free up territory.
Because, in parallel, the real engine of change had appeared: oil. From the late 1960s and through the 1970s, the northeastern Ecuadorian Amazon went through an oil boom that filled the forest with roads, camps, workers and settlers. The resettlement of the Waorani made it easier for exploration and crude extraction to advance over their ancestral territory. The result was a radical and painful transformation: loss of territory and autonomy, dependence, disease, pollution and the fracturing of an age-old way of life. Some groups, however, rejected contact and went deeper into the forest: they are the ones we know today as Tagaeri and Taromenane.
In the middle of that process of opening up and exploiting the Amazon, an awareness also emerged that an irreplaceable natural heritage was being put at risk. In 1979, the Ecuadorian state created Yasuní National Park, setting aside close to a million hectares of tropical rainforest for the protection of one of the most diverse ecosystems on the planet. It was, and still is, one of the largest protected areas in mainland Ecuador.
The underlying reason is the area's extraordinary biodiversity. Yasuní lies in a privileged region where the Amazon basin, the closeness of the Andes and the equator all converge, which translates into an astonishing concentration of life: a single hectare can hold more tree species than the whole of North America, and the park is home to thousands of plant species, hundreds of bird species, dozens of mammals, an enormous variety of amphibians and reptiles and countless insects. Scientists consider it one of the most biodiverse spots on Earth.
The creation of the park sought to shield that richness from the advance of colonization, deforestation and extractive pressure. From the start, however, a tension was already in place that would mark its whole history: beneath that soil so rich in life there are also significant oil reserves, and the boundaries of the park and of the oil blocks coexist in an overlapping geography. The legal protection of Yasuní was an enormous step, but it did not resolve —it only postponed— the clash between conservation and extraction that would erupt decades later.
International recognition of how exceptional Yasuní is came soon. In 1989, UNESCO declared Yasuní a Biosphere Reserve, within its 'Man and the Biosphere' (MAB) program, which seeks to reconcile the conservation of biodiversity with sustainable development and respect for local cultures. The distinction recognized not only the park's biological diversity but also its value as the territory of Indigenous peoples, bringing nature and culture together under a single protective figure.
A biosphere reserve is not exactly the same as a national park: it combines a core zone of strict protection with buffer and transition zones where sustainable use is the aim. The Yasuní Biosphere Reserve takes in the national park and its surroundings, and includes Waorani territory, giving an international framework to the idea that here the conservation of the rainforest and the survival of the peoples who live in it go together.
A decisive part of that protection came with the demarcation of the Zona Intangible Tagaeri-Taromenane, an area specifically intended to shield the peoples in voluntary isolation who still live deep in the forest. Declared and demarcated by the Ecuadorian state, this zone forbids entry and any extractive activity, in recognition of the right of the Tagaeri and Taromenane to live without contact. Its existence makes Yasuní a unique case, where record biodiversity and the right of uncontacted peoples not to be disturbed are protected at the same time.
The dilemma that had been latent since the park was created erupted in the 21st century around a name: the ITT block, after the Ishpingo, Tambococha and Tiputini oil fields, which hold some of Ecuador's largest crude reserves beneath Yasuní. Exploiting them meant millions in income for a country that depends on oil; leaving them in the ground meant protecting a unique ecosystem and the peoples who live in it. From that crossroads came one of the most original and widely discussed environmental proposals in the world.
In 2007, the Ecuadorian government launched the Yasuní-ITT initiative: a pioneering proposal in which Ecuador committed to not extracting the oil of the ITT block —leaving it indefinitely in the ground— in exchange for the international community providing economic compensation equivalent to part of the value of that crude. The idea combined the fight against climate change (avoiding CO2 emissions), the conservation of biodiversity and the protection of peoples in isolation, arguing that the responsibility for not burning that oil should be shared by the world.
The initiative sparked enormous international interest and sympathy, but fundraising fell far short of expectations. In 2013, the government declared the initiative a failure for lack of sufficient funding and authorized the start of oil extraction in block 43-ITT. The decision generated great controversy and strong resistance from environmental, Indigenous and youth movements, which denounced the advance of extractivism into the heart of Yasuní. The dream of leaving the crude in the ground seemed to be over, but the story would take an unexpected turn a decade later.
The history of Yasuní took a historic turn in 2023. After years of social mobilization, signature gathering and legal battles, environmental, Indigenous and youth movements (with collectives such as Yasunidos leading the way) got the courts to allow a national referendum so that citizens, and not only the government, would decide the fate of Yasuní's oil.
On 20 August 2023, on the same day as the presidential elections, Ecuadorians voted in a referendum on whether crude extraction in block 43-ITT, inside Yasuní National Park, should be stopped. The result was decisive: a clear majority voted 'Yes', that is, for leaving that oil indefinitely in the ground and winding down extraction. For the first time, a country decided at the ballot box to give up exploiting an oil reserve in order to protect an ecosystem and the peoples who live in it.
The decision was celebrated worldwide as a milestone of environmental democracy and a powerful message in the middle of the climate crisis. Its implementation, however, poses enormous challenges: the orderly dismantling of the oil infrastructure, the timelines, the economic costs for a country that depended on that income and the necessary restoration of the territory. The debate is still open, and the pressure on Yasuní —from oil, illegal logging and colonization— has not gone away. But the popular mandate of 2023 turned Yasuní into a global symbol: the place where, at least once, a society chose the life of the rainforest over the crude it held underneath.