From Forest Floor to Fashion: How Eco-printing Could Put Tempursari Village of Malang Regency on the Map

TEMPURSARI VILLAGE, MALANG REGENCY --- In the quiet folds of East Java's Malang Regency in Indonesia, far from the choking buzz of scooters and neon coffee shops of the city, there's a village where the future might just be written in leaves.

Tempursari isn't famous---yet. 

Not like the famous Mt. Bromo or the cold city of Batu or the heritage village of Kajoetangan in the city of Malang. It doesn't show up in travel brochures or on Instagram travel reels. But walk a little off the beaten path and into its cool, green underbrush, and you'll find what marketers, designers, and conscious consumers have been seeking for years: raw materials, real stories, and a radical kind of sustainability that doesn't need to be branded---it just is.

Here, surrounded by eucalyptus groves, guava and mango trees, and the rustling elegance of teak and rose leaves, a quiet revolution is taking root. It's called eco-printing, and it may just be the most poetic way for a village to change its economic fortunes.

NOT JUST CRAFT---THIS IS CHEMISTRY

Tempursari village locals trying eco-printing

Let's start with what eco-printing is not: it's not tie-dye, not batik, and definitely not synthetic. There are no vats of chemical sludge or outsourced factory labor. This is what happens when art, science, and nature share a table. The technique is, at its essence, disarmingly simple. Take a piece of natural cloth---rayon, primisima cotton, or unbleached blacu. Choose your leaves carefully---jarak (castor) for bold outlines, jati (teak) for its fingerprint-like veins, kenikir (cosmos) for a wispy brushstroke look. Lay them across the fabric, bundle it tight, and either steam or boil. What happens next is part alchemy, part accident, and entirely beautiful. The natural tannins and pigments from the leaves seep into the fabric, leaving behind a ghostly impression---like nature's own cyanotype.

But don't let the rustic process fool you. This is high design territory. The results can go from earthy to ethereal---scarves, tunics, journals, handbags, even gallery-ready textile art. What's more, no two pieces are alike. And in a world of algorithm-fed uniformity, that's a luxury you can't mass-produce.

A FOREST OF OPPORTUNITY

Tempursari doesn't need to import potential---it's been here all along. The village is practically a living dye garden, with daun mangga (mango leaves) lending olive hues, daun jambu (guava) giving rust-colored accents, and daun mawar (rose leaves) offering delicate linework. Even the daun lanang (Indian trumpet tree leaves) and daun ceri (cherry leaves)---unfamiliar to others---bring something special to the palette.

       Tempursari village locals making pattern for eco-printing

But this isn't just about biodiversity. It's about economic ecology. When the people of Tempursari pick up eco-printing, they're not just making pretty things. They're creating a circular local economy, one where the inputs are gathered, processed, and sold within the community. It's job creation without gentrification. It's a heritage without nostalgia. And it's environmentally sound without needing a "greenwashed" label slapped on top.

TURNING SKILL INTO STRATEGY

  Some residents of Tempursari Village discover the creative and economic potential of eco-printing

The idea isn't new. Student-led KKN (Kuliah Kerja Nyata) program of the State University of Malang (UM)  has introduced the basics---scouring fabric with Turkey Red Oil, mordanting with alum or tunjung, and teaching steaming techniques with DIY equipment. The interest is there. The skills are forming. What's missing?

A business model. A platform. A bigger vision.

"There's no one running an eco-print business here yet," shares Ms. Nofita, a fashion design major from the State University of Malang and a member of the KKN student team assigned to Tempursari. "But the potential is huge. The village is still so lush and green---it's easy to find the kinds of plants you need for eco-printing. People are actually really excited about it, but most of them are still unfamiliar with the concept. They've never tried it before."

Imagine this: a Tempursari Ecoprint Collective, a village-run brand rooted in authenticity, marketed through storytelling, not slogans. The scarves don't just sell because they're pretty (though they are); they sell because they come with a story---a real one. One might say, "This leaf fell from a eucalyptus tree beside Ibu Sari's garden. She pressed it into cloth on a Friday morning after prayer, while her daughter sorted kenikir petals beside her."

This is the kind of narrative you can't fabricate in a factory. And guess what? People are buying this now. Not just products, but processes. Provenance! Purpose!

ECO-TOURISM, MINUS THE CLICH

What if Tempursari doesn't just sell ecoprint products, but experiences?

Eco-printing Finished Products

Think beyond the conventional touristic route. This isn't about turning villagers into tour guides or building a resort. It's about intimate, intentional travel---visitors coming in small groups to forage for leaves, learn from local artisans, cook simple village meals, and spend an afternoon steaming their own scarf in a bamboo kitchen.

Urban creatives, eco-conscious travelers, even bored professionals burnt out from PowerPoint decks---they're hungry for this kind of thing. And Tempursari can offer it, without sacrificing its identity. No staged performances. Just a living, working village doing what it does best, and inviting others to observe and participate with humility.

WHY NOW?

Let's be honest. Rural development often reads like a bureaucratic checklist. Build a road. Add a school. Subsidize fertilizer. And yet, the soul of these places---the crafts, the plants, the inherited knowledge---often gets left behind. But with eco-printing, the development is the culture. It doesn't flatten traditions; it amplifies them. It doesn't lure people away from the village; it gives them a reason to stay. And as the fashion world begins to reckon with its own dark side---pollution, exploitation, overproduction---there's a shift underway. Designers want better stories. Consumers want deeper meaning. Retailers want cleaner footprints. If Tempursari moves fast and thoughtfully, it could become East Java's best-kept sustainable secret---a village that didn't just survive modernity, but printed its own path through it.

THE BOTTOM LINE?

Tempursari doesn't need a savior. It needs a spotlight. It already has the land, the leaves, the hands, the know-how. With the right support---some branding advice here, a partnership with a university there, maybe a grant to upgrade steaming equipment---it can scale without selling out. It can create a micro-economy with global sensibility and local soul. Because at the end of the day, what the world is really looking for is authenticity. Not staged, not repackaged, not rebranded---just real people doing meaningful work, in harmony with their place.

And that? That's what Tempursari already has in spades.

This article was written by a group of students from the State University of Malang (Universitas Negeri Malang -- UM) who carried out their Regular KKN (Community Service Program) in Tempursari Village, Malang Regency, East Java, Indonesia. The authors are Christopher Paller Gerale, Ataya Khalda Salsabillah, Azzalia Azzahra, Bilkis Nurmawardani, Faradila Nurhadi Pratiwi, Nofita Suci Rahmadani, Aia Sanjo Wibisono, Mochammad Zakaria Bima Syahputra, Nico Aditya Saputra, and Sheftian Ahmad Muttaqin, under the guidance of Field Supervisor Ms. Alfi Sahrina, S.Pd., M.Pd.