High in the western Andes of Colombia, remote mountains and rainforests shelter a dazzling array of birds, including species found nowhere else. For decades, armed conflict among government forces, leftist guerrillas, right‑wing paramilitaries and drug traffickers made large swaths of the countryside inaccessible — a dangerous isolation that, paradoxically, helped protect habitats.
That began to change after the 2016 peace agreement with the FARC. As security improved in many areas, ecotourism — led by birdwatching — has expanded. Pristine forests, clear rivers and extraordinary birdlife are drawing visitors from around the world and creating new income streams for communities that once saw little lawful opportunity.
Tatamá National Park, on the western slope of the Andes, has become a focal point. A rain‑soaked landscape where hummingbirds, tanagers, wrens and many other species inhabit canopy and understory, Tatamá showcases some of Colombia’s richest birdlife: velvet‑purple coronets and gold‑ringed tanagers flash through the foliage; cinnamon flycatchers and blue‑gray tanagers call from the midstory; and the shy Chami Antpitta slips through dense undergrowth, testing even seasoned birders.
Diego Calderón Franco is one of Colombia’s best‑known bird guides. He identifies birds by sight and by ear, and even imitates calls to lure secretive species into view. His personal history mirrors the country’s recent trauma: in 2004, while a graduate student, he and colleagues were captured by the FARC and Diego spent 88 days in the mountains. He kept his mind alert by drawing birds on cigarette paper and making notes — he says that, in captivity, birds helped him survive. After his release and a father‑raised ransom, Diego went on to build a birding tour business.
Today Diego and other guides are training former combatants to work as nature guides and hospitality staff. Tens of thousands of ex‑FARC fighters surrendered their arms after the peace deal but needed livelihoods; conservation and tourism have offered a viable path. Guides recall walking through the forest with ex‑fighters and realizing old roles no longer mattered — the shared focus on birds creates a human connection. One former guerrilla, Marcos Guevara, trained as a photographer and now documents nesting green‑and‑black fruiteaters and other wildlife.
Local entrepreneurs have adapted as well. At Tatamá’s edge, the Montezuma Rainforest Eco Lodge — run by Michelle Tapasco and her family — caters to birders. Michelle, who relocated to escape violence in the 1990s and endured local FARC presence, lost her partner to kidnapping and murder in 2008. Despite doubts from neighbors, she persisted with the lodge, growing much of the food and maintaining feeders and plantings that attract the many hummingbirds found in Colombia — the country hosts more than 160 hummingbird species, birds capable of hovering and even flying backward, beating their wings up to roughly 80 times per second.
Birdwatching is also an economic engine. Serious birders keep “life lists” and will travel to remote sites to seek endemic species; some are zealous in their pursuit. Visitors like Gary George and Joseph Brooks come to Colombia to add rare species to their lists, and the influx supports guiding, lodging, food services, transport and photography. For families like Michelle’s, the industry has shifted possibilities: her daughters are studying biology, forestry and conservation, and two have married visiting birders.
The gains are fragile. Colombia’s conflict left deep scars: more than 450,000 people killed and about 50,000 kidnapped across decades of violence. Some armed groups never disarmed after 2016 and sporadic attacks continue. Conservationists also warn of global pressures: roughly 60% of bird species worldwide are declining because of logging, agricultural expansion, urban growth and other habitat loss. Colombia’s formerly off‑limits forests and mountain enclaves now function as refuges for many species, but protecting them as tourism grows remains a critical challenge.
Some birds remain incredibly local and hard to find — the gold‑ringed tanager occupies a small Andean range, and the Chami Antpitta often eludes even repeat visitors. Yet those rare encounters are powerful: birders describe spotting such species as discovering a jewel, a reward that eclipses the rest of the day.
As tourism arrives, efforts continue to secure habitats through land purchases, expanding protected areas and training new conservationists. Where illicit economies once drove land use, wildlife and tourism now offer incentives to preserve forests. For guides, lodge owners and former fighters who have turned to conservation, birds have become more than a fascination — they are a lifeline linking biodiversity, livelihoods and the slow work of peace. Colombia remains the most bird‑rich nation on Earth, and maintaining that richness will require balancing tourism, development and the long road of reconciliation.