If you are into convenient package price holidays to relax on a deck chair by the pool, this might not be the place for you. The Mashpi Lodge in the Chocó-Darién rainforest in Ecuador, a 3-to-4-hour bumpy drive from Quito (depending on the rain and roads) is a place for adventure, education, and full immersion into the primary rainforest.

Photo by Anki Delfmann

Built on 2,500 hectares of land purchased from loggers and gold miners in 2001 by Roque Sevilla – a former mayor of Quito and conservation visionary – and the Grupo Futuro, the primary goal has always been to conserve this unique biodiversity hotspot, and to work with scientists and local communities to keep it that way for the future. It wasn't until 2012 that the stunning, glass-fronted, Roberto Burneo designed 5 star lodge was opened on the unlikely site of a former sawmill, without a single tree being cut down.

Photo by Anki Delfmann

So why is this relevant for designers? Apart from the obvious local design challenge here to create something new without impacting the natural environment, it comes with the systemic challenge of engaging local communities that used to live off industries that destroy the rainforest, together with scientific conservation and research requirements, and the need to cater to tourists that pay for a 5 star hotel experience. So rather than designing a hotel, the task was to design a system that enables all of the above.

Mashpi Lodge does a stellar job of bringing it all together: The expedition guides are mostly from the area, combining inherent local knowledge with scientific education that is paid for by the lodge. The hotel's own conservation research station is financed by hotel revenue, and enthusiastic guests often co-finance projects.

So how did they build a user experience that makes hotel guests so engaged? They designed a fully vertical and 24 hour immersion into the rainforest.

Let's break it down by altitude:

Canopy level (60-20 meters)

Let's start with the loftiest, and one of the most spectacular experiences: The Sky Bike

The Sky Bike at Mashpi Lodge. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to fly like a barred hawk: Built like a tandem bike on a cable, guests pedal themselves silently above and through the canopy of the rainforest, up to 60 meters above the ground. The sky bike is situated at the spot where the rainforest becomes the cloud forest, so spectacular views with clouds lingering below are guaranteed. It's the closest you can feel to flying without actually taking off.

Trunk level (20-4 meters)

The Dragonfly at Mashpi Lodge. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to lazily travel through the trees like a sloth: The Dragonfly is similar to the sky bike, but there's a motor, so you don't have to pedal yourself. And talking about lazy: it's also quite likely you will spot a sloth and many rare birds along the way.

The Chocó rainforest at night from below. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to dive into the foliage: At any time of the day, but especially during night walks, guests are always encouraged to look up. The rainforest flora is simply spectacular, and offers a whole new colour scheme when lit up by a headlamp against the black of the night.

The terrace at Mashpi Lodge. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to fall from my bed directly into jungle immersion: The hotel terrace is built at the perfect height for forest and bird watching. You can even see Toucans in the early mornings.

Human level (4-1 meters)

The research lab. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to know more about the science: Every day, there are lectures about the local wildlife. There is also a fully equipped research station that guests can visit and dive deeper into any scientific topic.

3D physical map in the lobby. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to know where I am: a 3D model of the reserve in the hotel lobby helps guests to orient themselves and retrace their adventures with their fingertips. (There is no phone reception on the rainforest expeditions).

Locally inspired haute cuisine. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to taste the local food: The kitchen creates truly local dishes, refined for 5 star expectations. You can look forward to local wild garlic, chillangua, palm hearts, peanuts and other organic ingredients.

Expert guide Estuardo. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to connect with local people: You'll likely have to, as most of the staff and expedition guides are from the area. You can learn all the Latin, Spanish and English names of all the creatures and plants around you, and their significance and role in the ecosystem. You might also learn that your guide is the first one in their family to learn a foreign language, or go to school at all, and that during their lifetime the village completely changed their approach to how to live from and with the rainforest.

Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to get down and dirty: The river walk is one of the most immersive and unique experiences. Walking sticks and rubber boots are provided by the lodge, and very necessary: you will get wet as you walk through rapids and depths, with a slightly precarious but otherwise unachievable and magical point of view.

Photo by Anki Delfmann

I can't walk that well but want to see the rainforest: You can't do steep and muddy jungle walks? No problem, there's a lift built into the thicket right by the hotel to make things accessible for almost everyone.

Ground level (1-0 meters)

Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to walk through the mud: The walkways through the muddy and rainy jungle are secured by repurposed bottle crates. Organic materials would either deteriorate too fast in jungle conditions, or be tricky to source or install. The crates ensure a sturdy walk even when it rains a lot, they were freely and cheaply available when the project started. Any shards or broken crates are picked up by guides and guests alike, and this has become somewhat of a gamified activity during expeditions.

Tarantula saying hello. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to see the danger of the jungle: The guides constantly encourage guests to look down. Sometimes it really pays off, like when there's a big tarantula waiting by the toilets.

A frog at night. Photo by Anki Delfmann

The illusive Mashpi glass frog, a fascinating creature with transparent skin. Photo by Anki Delfmann

I want to see something incredibly rare and unique: If guests haven't caught the rainforest fever yet, they probably will when 4 expedition guides climb through thick foliage over a river in the darkest rainy night to find the pièce de resistance: The Mashpi glass frog, one of the 20 endemic species that were discovered, described and protected here... because someone once designed and built a 5 star hotel in a very unlikely place.

See a video of the experience

Watch the Mashpi Lodge Design Postcard to get a more immersive feeling of the Ecuadorian rainforest.

Brothers Tavish and Breton Rice shared an unfortunate experience: Watching their father, who suffers from a neurological condition, struggle with the vessels containing his numerous medications. "We watched our father go through every issue imaginable with his pill containers," they write. "Breaking, spilling, accidentally opening--constantly. Handling a flimsy plastic pill box is already a hassle, and even more so when your hands aren't working very well due to his disease.

"We tried every pill case we could find. Unfortunately, none worked for him."

The Rice brothers then set about producing a better pill case, and launched Ikigai Cases.

The company produces sturdy, minimalist, anodized aluminum cases with a spring-loaded ball mechanism that keeps the lid securely closed; pressing down on the textured part of the lid allows you to slide it open. Furthermore, hidden detents make it so the lid clicks open at each pocket. " This makes it super easy to dump single pockets out while holding the case with just one hand," they explain.

They also offer engraving.

The cases come in multiple sizes, and draw rave reviews from owners. They come with a lifetime warranty, and have a 100-day return policy—even for the engraved cases.

Simply put, "We make the best pill cases in the world," they write.

You've heard of origami, but perhaps not its cousin, kirigami. Origami involves folding paper. Kirigami goes a step further, adding cuts to the paper that allow it to form new shapes.

Researchers at Canada's Polytechnique Montréal started messing around with kirigami "purely out of curiousity," to see what would happen if they cut precise patterns of slits into a parachute. Their findings were surprising. By using a lasercutter to slit a plastic sheet…

…they found that when they dropped it from height, it achieved a remarkably smooth and straight downward flight.

They then began testing higher drops using a drone, with a payload attached to the 'chute.

The inside-out parachute works because the slits all generate a slight amount of turbulence, and these work in concert to slow the descent. Furthermore, they don't drop precipitously faster than a conventional parachute, as you might expect:

We show that at low load-to-area ratios, kirigami-inspired parachutes exhibit a comparable terminal velocity to conventional ones. However, unlike conventional parachutes that require a gliding angle for vertical stability and fall at random far from a target, our kirigami-inspired parachutes always fall near the target, regardless of their initial release angle. These kinds of parachutes could limit material losses during airdropping as well as decrease manufacturing costs and complexity.

The research team is also investigating how the parachutes could sort their cargo by weight. "We could have parachutes that move to one side if they are carrying water, while those carrying a lighter payload would move to the other side, so the cargo would be sorted as soon as the parachutes are released," he suggests. "The idea is to see how we can program the descent in different ways."

The Colombian capital sits high on a plateau in the Andes at over 8,500 feet, cradled by steep green mountains. Here, design heritage and culture can be found in markets and murals, metal and thread, in historic places and purpose-built spaces.

In the city's historic center, the Museo Botero and the Museo del Oro anchor two ends of a cultural spectrum. Botero is Colombia's most internationally recognized artist, and his sculptures and paintings stretch forms into chubby satire, while the gold museum holds one of the world's most significant collections of pre-Hispanic ritual objects, designs made not for display, but for ceremony.

Botero

Fernando Botero, "Mona Lisa," 1977. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Fernando Botero, "Caballo" 1998.. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Gold & silver

I had a chance to see that sensibility first-hand in Chapinero, where gold- and silversmith El Metalero invited me into his workshop. He creates beautiful hand-forged objects that draw on ancient stories and a strong streak of rebellion, often interpreting forms borrowed from animals and humans in local mythology.

El Metalero. EPhoto by Anki Delfmann

El Metalero. Photo by Anki Delfmann

El Metalero. Photo by Anki Delfmann

El Metalero. Photo by Anki Delfmann

El Metalero. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Contemporary craft

Just around the corner, the concept store Diseño Colombia (by Artesanías de Colombia) presents the country's rich material and craft traditions in a contemporary context. The collection includes cane-fiber hats, barniz de Pasto lacquerware, charred and carved stools, hand-dyed hammocks, and maize-inspired jewelry. Many of their pieces have appeared at international design fairs like Maison & Objet and NY NOW – but they're all rooted in Colombia's diverse regions and long-standing craft techniques.

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Weaving

Weaving in particular, and creating surfaces from canes, threads and leaves, plays a central role across cultures here. It is used both as a crafting technique and a way of telling stories. From the sombrero vueltiao to contemporary homeware, fashion, and even architecture, woven forms carry ancestral knowledge while continuing to evolve, and remain a defining thread in Colombia's design identity even today.

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Diseño Colombia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Bricks

Another material ubiquitous in the city is brick. Brick facades, lots of them from the 70s and 80s, define Bogotá's urban landscape. There are two primary reasons for this: Bogotá sits on a plateau with abundant clay deposits, and the city expanded rapidly experiencing waves of rural migration in the 70s and 80s. From family houses to skyscrapers, it gives the city a distinct reddish warmth that blends with the surrounding mountains.

Bogotá bricks. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Bogotá bricks. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Bogotá bricks. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Murals, markets & bamboo

A few miles away in La Merced, walls start to become more colorful and mix bricks with murals. Often depicting themes of indigenous heritage and native flora and fauna, they tell a story of local pride at street level.

Street art by Resistiza. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Equally colorful, Mercado La Perseverancia shows how grassroots creativity, paired with government support, can revive a city landmark. There is a strong female presence at La Perseverancia, where women reinvent traditional dishes from across Colombia, celebrating the nation's biodiversity and cultural richness. A state-backed renovation with public art and training programs helped the market earn the title of Bogotá's best place to eat in 2019 (and also got it featured in a Netflix street food documentary).

Mural by Draku. Photo by Anki Delfmann

La Perseverancia. Photo by Anki Delfmann

"Kuna Tule" by Carlos Trilleras. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Further south in colonial La Candelaria, the murals continue. Piqueteadero El Egipto is another place that tells the region's story through food, materials, and architecture. Just a street away from the once-notorious Barrio Egipto, long marked by gang violence, it works to restore neighborhood pride beneath a striking bamboo ceiling designed by architect Simón Velez, Colombia's master of structural bamboo and a global pioneer of sustainable design.

Piqueteadero Egipto. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Piqueteadero Egipto. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Bamboo roof by Simón Velez. Photo by Anki Delfmann

Bogotá's design landscape is as layered as its mountains: rooted in ancient history, reshaped by human hands, and fertile with creativity.

See a video of Design in Bogotá:

Watch the Bogota Design Postcard to get a more immersive feeling for the city

It's easy to convince EDC people to buy EDC things. But how do you convince non-EDC folks to buy your product?

Simple: Fear.

The global "car escape tool market," according to market research firm Data Insights Market, is valued at $500 million this year, projected to grow 7% a year and hit $900 million in 2033. The trend is being driven by "heightened safety concerns among consumers."

A big seller in this category is the automotive window breaker and seat belt cutter. The fantasy being peddled by the toolmakers is: You will crash, remain conscious, find that your car has burst into flame or is slowly sinking in water, find that you cannot undo your seatbelt, yet are still able to reach for this specialty tool, slice through your seatbelt, then smash the window open and climb free to safety.

This image sure looks real to us!

Accidents that involve fire or water are less than half of one percent of all accidents, according to the NHTSA. And the amount of accidents where the above scenario actually occurred, and that tool saved lives, is not recorded as a statistic. Similarly, seat belt jamming is so rare that neither the NHTSA nor the AAA track it as a statistic.

As for the glassbreakers, here's the big thing that most people don't realize: They're designed to break tempered glass, which is what most cars used to have for the side windows. However, modern safety regulations—specifically, the "Ejection Mitigation Rule" in the 2013 Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard 226 (FMVSS 226), mean that most manufacturers have transitioned to laminated glass for the side windows.

Laminated glass (which is what the windshields were already made of) is tougher to break, and is now used to prevent occupants from being ejected through the side glass.

An AAA research report tested six commonly-available glassbreakers. Not a single one of them was capable of breaking through laminated glass—and two of the tools couldn't even break through tempered glass, but instead broke themselves. On the glass.

It's true that not all automakers have switched over to laminated glass for the side windows; the FMVSS 226 law stipulates that you can get around it if you install elaborate side airbags that also prevent ejection.

The automakers that are using laminated side glass are only: Acura, Audi, BMW, Cadillac, Chevrolet, Chrysler, Dodge, Ford, Genesis, GMC, Honda, Hyundai, Infiniti, Jaguar, Jeep, Kia, Land Rover, Lexus, Lincoln, Mercedes-Benz, Nissan, Porsche, Ram, Subaru, Toyota, Volkswagen and Volvo. Some of them, like Chevy and BMW, have been using laminated glass since the '70s and '80s. Glassbreakers might only be useful if you're driving around in a classic car and believe you'll become submerged.

That said, seatbelt cutters are of supreme use to firefighters, EMTs and other first responders who may not be able to reach an unconscious accident victim's seatbelt release. So there might be a case for them if you see yourself in a situation where you need to free an unconscious person, and have the training to safely extricate them.

Myanmar's disastrous civil war has displaced well over 3 million people. And even before the 2021 coup, there was a housing crisis, with demand far outstripping supply; the military conflict has only intensified that problem.

Yangon-based architecture firm Blue Temple is part of the solution. They launched an initiative called Housing NOW, whereby they designed simple—and surprisingly durable—houses that could be built out of locally-abundant bamboo.

The build concept is pretty simple: Bamboo's everywhere, but it's pretty thin and bendy. Bundle a bunch of shoots together, though, and now you have a bunch of structural members that are both strong and flexible.

And by first bending, then bundling them—rather like creating a bent lamination--you can create supporting archways.

The design is modular and can be scaled up.

The firm came up with two ways to execute the houses: A pre-fab version that uses steel tubing for joists and can be trucked to the site in parts, and a non-pre-fab that can be built in the field by families themselves, using Ikea-like assembly manuals printed and distributed by Housing NOW.

The most expensive parts of the design are the corrugated metal roof panels, the steel binding strips and the concrete footers. Even still, "Each unit can be built in under a week for the price of a smartphone," the firm writes. And with the DIY version, there is little labor cost; families do most of the construction, under the supervision of Housing NOW's technical team members.

Here's the incredible part: Earlier this year, a 7.7 magnitude earthquake hit Myanmar, leveling the city of Mandalay. Twenty-six of Housing NOW's bamboo houses were 15 kilometers (9.3 miles) from the epicenter, and "every house remained absolutely intact," the firm reports. "The geometric system distributes seismic loads [as well as allowing] variations in layout and façade. The earthquake became the ultimate proof of concept: in one of the most fragile contexts on earth, bamboo housing delivered resilience and dignity at scale."

It takes about seven days to build one of the houses, and thus far they've built 79 of them. More are in the works: Housing NOW has distributed around 500 of the DIY build manuals nationwide. And as the map below shows, their design and model could be used in a lot of different parts of the world.