A Journey Rescheduled By Nature
The group stands proudly at the entrance of the soaring bamboo pavilion. This structure itself is a lesson—showing that sustainable materials can create breathtaking, modern forms.
Our field trip for the Architecture Study Program was originally scheduled for December 1, 2025. But nature had other plans. The catastrophic floods of late November – the same system failure I spoke about in my recent seminar – forced us to pause.
Today, December 22, we finally made the journey. And perhaps it was fitting. We went to learn about nature and bamboo construction exactly when the memory of nature’s power was freshest in our minds.
Alhamdulillah. Despite the obstacles, despite the rescheduling, despite the logistics, we are here. I came as the only lecturer, but I knew I wasn’t bringing them alone. The real expertise today would come from those who live and work with these principles daily.
Walking through the lush landscape of Orangutan Haven. For architecture students used to studio screens, this immersion in nature is a vital reset and inspiration.
Seeing the students out here, breathing fresh air instead of studio dust, I am reminded why we do this. Architecture is not learned solely in front of a screen. It is learned by touching the earth, feeling the material, and understanding the context we build in.
The Residents of The Haven
Orangutan Haven isn’t a zoo. It’s a sanctuary for those who cannot go back.
We started with a hike. The green landscape was a relief for eyes tired of concrete and screens. The team at Orangutan Haven guided us gently up the trail, pointing out plants, explaining the ecosystem. These aren’t park rangers following scripts – they are conservationists with deep knowledge and genuine passion.
The open-air amphitheater provides a space for reflection. Surrounded by the sounds of the forest, students process the stories of displacement and resilience they’ve just heard.
Sitting in the amphitheater, students listen to the tragic but important histories of residents like Leuser and Lewis. A sobering reminder of why we must design responsibly.
But the real lesson began when we sat down to hear the stories of the residents here.
Deknong. Fajrin. Lewis. Leuser. Dina. etc.
These aren’t just names; they are tragedies caused by human design – or lack of it.
The Orangutan Haven team explained each story with both scientific precision and emotional honesty. Leuser, blind because he was shot 62 times with an air rifle. Dina, paralyzed from illness as a baby. Lewis, blinded by shots from farmers protecting plantations.
They cannot be released into the wild. Because of us. Because our development patterns, our plantations, our encroachment left them no space.
I watched the students as they listened. The “fun” field trip vibe shifted to something deeper. You could see them processing it: *We are studying to be builders. Our designs will eat up land. Are we going to be part of the problem, or part of the solution?*
That moment – that pause – was worth the entire semester of theory. Because empathy is the foundation of sustainable design. You cannot design for nature if you do not feel for it.
And the Orangutan Haven team facilitated this perfectly. They didn’t preach. They just told the truth, and let the students feel it.
The Bamboo Workshop – From River To Structure
The second session shifted from “why” to “how.”
And here, the Orangutan Haven team truly shone. These are practitioners who work with bamboo daily – not as theory, but as lived practice. Having them teach our students was invaluable. It bridges the gap between my academic instruction and real-world sustainable construction.
Under the shade of bamboo groves, the Orangutan Haven team shares their deep knowledge of the ecosystem. Today, the forest is our lecture hall.
Students and Orangutan Haven team members gathered by the river—a perfect example of sustainable structure in harmony with nature.
We talk a lot about sustainability in class. But today, the students got their hands dirty with it. The bamboo workshop wasn’t just about tying knots; it was a full lifecycle lesson, taught by people who actually build with bamboo.
The team walked students through every step:
Selection: Not every bamboo is ready to build. They explained how to identify the right age, the right species. Betung (Dendrocalamus asper) for structural elements. Tali (Gigantochloa apus) for bindings and smaller components. They showed how to read the color, feel the density, assess readiness.
The bamboo workshop in full swing. Surrounded by the raw material, students listen intently as the Orangutan Haven team explains the nuances of selecting and preparing bamboo for construction.
Harvesting: There’s a right way to cut so the clump regenerates. Cut too young, you weaken the material. Cut too old, it’s brittle. Cut wrong, you kill the clump. The team demonstrated the traditional technique passed down through generations, but explained the science behind why it works.
Cleaning: Students helped strip branches, then took the culms to the river. The team explained why river washing matters – it’s not just removing dirt, it’s removing surface fungi and sap that would otherwise attract beetles and decay. Watching students in the river, laughing as they scrubbed bamboo, was pure joy.
From cleaning in the river to crafting joinery, today they didn’t just study sustainable materials—they built with them.
Preservation: This was the critical technical lesson, and the team was meticulous. How to pierce the nodes (membolongkan ruas) so the borax-boric acid solution can penetrate the entire culm. They explained the chemistry simply: borax prevents fungal growth, boric acid prevents insect infestation. Without this, bamboo lasts 3-5 years. With this, it can last 30+ years.
They demonstrated the technique, then supervised as students practiced. Patient corrections. Encouragement. This is teaching at its best – expert practitioners sharing knowledge generously.
Crafting: Then came the creative challenge. Students were asked to design and build signage using bamboo. The Orangutan Haven team provided tools, materials, and guidance – but let students figure out the problems themselves.
I saw frustration. “Why won’t this stay together?”
I saw problem-solving. “If we angle it this way…”
I saw collaboration. “Hold this while I cut this…”
And then I saw pride when their signage actually stood up.
The team celebrated each successful structure. Not patronizing praise, but genuine appreciation. “You did well. This bamboo cut will doing great.”
Pausing near the bamboo bridge. It’s not just a crossing; it’s a testament to engineering with natural materials—strong, flexible, and beautiful.
This field trip was about more than orangutans and bamboo. It was about “inception” – planting ideas that will grow over time.
When students return to studio, they will design buildings. Some will become architects choosing materials for hotels, schools, houses. Most will default to what they know: concrete, steel, glass.
But maybe – just maybe – today planted a seed.
Maybe when they’re specifying materials five years from now, they’ll remember the feel of bamboo in their hands. The weight of it. The way it split when they cut wrong, but held strong when they did it right.
Maybe they’ll remember Leuser’s sightless eyes and think twice about building on forested land.
Maybe they’ll remember how patient the Orangutan Haven team was – how these experts shared knowledge not to show off, but because they genuinely wanted the next generation to do better.
This is why I took them there. Not for fun (though we had that). Not for grades (though they’ll write reflections). But for this: to shift how they think about what it means to build.
Architecture education happens in many places. Lecture halls teach theory. Studios teach design process. But places like Orangutan Haven – with practitioners like this team – teach something deeper. They teach values.
And values shape every design decision for a lifetime.
As we loaded back onto the bus, exhausted and muddy, I felt grateful.
Grateful that despite floods and delays, this happened.
Grateful for the Orangutan Haven team, who shared their expertise so generously. They didn’t have to do this. They could have given us a standard tour. Instead, they gave students a transformative experience.
Grateful for students who showed up ready to learn. Who listened to tragic stories without cynicism. Who wrestled with bamboo without giving up. Who asked good questions.
And grateful for the reminder – which I needed as much as they did – that we are not separate from nature. We are part of it. Our buildings are part of it. Our design decisions affect it.
When Cyclone Senyar flooded Medan three weeks ago, it was because we forgot this. We designed as if water was an obstacle to eliminate, rather than a system to work with.
When orangutans lose their habitat, it’s because we designed plantations and cities as if forests were empty space waiting to be claimed.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
We can design differently. With the land. With the rivers. With the forests. With the orangutans.
That’s the future I want my students to build.
And today, thanks to the Orangutan Haven team and the lessons they taught, I think we took one small step toward that future.
To my students: I hope you enjoyed the hike. I hope you had fun in the river. I hope you’re proud of the signage you built.
But mostly, I hope you remember this day when you’re making real decisions about real projects. When a client says “just use concrete,” remember bamboo. When a developer wants to clear forest, remember Leuser. When you’re tired and tempted to design the easy way, remember the Orangutan Haven team’s patience and passion.
To the Orangutan Haven team: Thank you. You taught my students things I cannot teach in a classroom. You showed them what it looks like to live your values. You gave them a gift.
Alhamdulillah for a safe journey. Alhamdulillah for good teachers. Alhamdulillah for students willing to learn.
Now, back to the studio. We have a lot of work to do.
But we’re going to do it a little differently now.
Reload document 
Open in new tab