To reach the heart of the Amazonian forest, we boarded a narrow wooden boat, its small engine surprisingly powerful. The skill of our boatman—navigating winding rivers, avoiding submerged branches, reading the water like a second language—was nothing short of remarkable.

The boat ride lasted several hours. Along the way, we passed remote river villages, witnessing life in its rawest and most beautiful form. Children waved from the riverbanks, women washed clothes by hand, and men fished quietly in long canoes. All around us, the forest whispered—birdsong, rustling leaves, distant howls. The sounds of nature here are immense, and humbling.

The next day, we visited the villages we had passed. What we found was breathtaking: trees everywhere, heavy with nuts—each one holding the promise of regeneration. The locals explained that the nuts were only ready when they fell naturally from the tree. Once gathered, they were dried, cracked, and pressed into oil by hand.

These trees are not rushed. Some take years before yielding their first fruit. This patient rhythm revealed a deeper truth: nature flourishes when respected. The communities care for their forests like family, knowing that their future—our shared future—depends on its health and abundance.

What we witnessed was more than beauty. It was resilience. It was wisdom passed through generations. It was a belief that by working with the land, not against it, we can nourish both people and planet.

This journey through Suriname changed us. It deepened our purpose. It reminded us that true beauty is not only what you put on your skin—it’s the story behind every drop, and the hands that make it possible.

And it all began with a friend—John, the founder of BioTara, whose vision to uplift communities and protect the forest inspired us to believe. We didn’t just follow his path; we became part of it.