Our Story

Casa Búho was born in November 2016 as an independent reading and reading mediation project founded by Oscar and Valeria.

That same year, we decided to return to Ecuador after living abroad. We arrived in Puerto López drawn by a reading promotion program called The Book Bus, an international reading mediation project that worked in local schools, led on the ground by Arturo Rodríguez. For nine months, we supported reading programs in educational institutions from Ayampe to Pueblo Nuevo, and it was there that we saw up close a very clear reality: there was an enormous need for access to books and meaningful reading experiences, especially in childhood.

When The Book Bus closed its program in Ecuador, that same 2016, we understood that we couldn't let that spark die out. We met Paola Martínez from Fundación Clara Luna, who helped us shape the idea. And that's how Casa Búho was born: as a local, community-driven, and loving response to the lack of books, libraries, and professional reading mediation support in the parish of Machalilla.

The first steps were simple, but powerful. Casa Búho started in a borrowed classroom at the Alfredo Villarreal school in Machalilla, thanks to the generosity of its principal, Flor Villarreal, who believed from the very first moment in the importance of reading. Three afternoons a week, the preschool classroom transformed into a meeting place: neighborhood children would arrive, we'd open books, read aloud, and create together.

Later, with support from the community and from Arturo, we managed to secure a municipal space on the upper floor of the library. It was a deteriorated place: no water, no electricity, with broken windows and a roof rusted by the sea breeze. Even so, we saw a possible future in that space. Thanks to the mingas (community work days), collective effort, and the support of mothers and families, we began to restore it, fix it up, and make it ours.

The path wasn't easy. Keeping the space open on weekends and holidays was difficult due to access limitations. But even with those challenges, Casa Búho kept growing: because when a community takes ownership of books, books become home.

During the years in the municipal space, Casa Búho grew in a beautiful way. We didn't just sustain reading activities: we started building community. Children attended our programs, mothers got involved, and initiatives for women also emerged. Those were bright years, full of effort, but also full of hope: you could see how reading was creating bonds, belonging, and a safe place to share.

Over time, we understood that we needed greater independence to keep growing. And then came an opportunity that changed our lives: we received the donation of a shipping container, which we decided to turn into a library. That container became our own space, our own Casa Búho.

The process wasn't easy, but we made it. We were ready to inaugurate the first library specializing in children's and young adult literature in the parish. We had prepared a beautiful event… and, two days before opening the doors, the library caught fire due to a faulty electrical connection.

It was the hardest blow we've ever experienced. But it was also the moment when we confirmed something profound: Casa Búho wasn't a place, it was a community. One week after the fire, over the ashes, we returned to reading mediation. And although it took us nearly a year to recover, we organized a solidarity campaign and many people joined to help us rebuild. We made it. We rose stronger: as a project, as families, and as a community.

And when we were finally enjoying our recovered space, the pandemic arrived. Once again, the world closed down. We went from working with daily contact, in double shifts, to staying home unable to see the children or the families. During that time, many people in the area didn't have cell phones or internet in their homes; even so, virtual education forced families to organize. Neighbors and relatives shared connection costs and searched for devices, even simple ones, so that children could study.

In the midst of that transition from analog to digital, Casa Búho didn't stop: we went virtual. The reach was smaller, yes, but reading mediation continued, because it was—and still is—necessary.

After the pandemic, we returned to our library. And since then, we haven't stopped. We continue working for the right to read and for access to meaningful books and literary experiences, convinced that in Machalilla there is talent, potential, and a future: in the children, the young people, the women, and the grandmothers.

We believe in this land. And reading has been, from the beginning, our path.

Casa Búho is not just a library: it is a reading home built with community, resilience, and love for childhood.