Today, men are engaged in the craft, but most of the paper production is still done predominantly by women. It is not uncommon to see women eighty years or older still at the vat pulling sheets. The paper made in the village is a creamy off-white, with long fibers and generally good distribution. Sheets come in two basic sizes, 45 x 90 centimeters and 45 x 180 centimeters, though we have seen both larger and smaller sizes. To the touch, the paper is in between soft and rough, well suited for its utilitarian purposes. The majority of the paper produced is used to wrap tea, the most famous being pu'er 普洱 tea (some of the tea plants are more than six hundred years old). The method of preparing pu'er tea is a long process. After careful selection, the leaves are formed into round cakes and then wrapped with thin Dai 傣 handmade paper. The paper is very strong, and made thin so that the tea is both protected from the elements and can breathe. This prevents it from becoming moldy. Other end uses of the village-made paper include a thicker paper used in the production of paper bags or used in Buddhist monasteries for the writing of sacred texts. A sheet of paper costs from one half to two renminbi 人民币 (rmb) per sheet (renminbi is the national currency of China, with about six renminbi to one US dollar). The paper is sold to tea producers in the area as well as shipped to different parts of China. It can also be used for drawing and painting, although the papermakers have not yet explored that market. Each family has an enclosed compound, with a central openair courtyard in which they dry the paper. The living quarters are on the second floor, with the papermaking, fiber storage, fiber cooking vats, and other work areas along the walls of the openair ground floor, usually with an awning or covering under which the vat and other materials used in the process are located. The traditional wooden mallets once used for pounding the fiber have been replaced by Hollander-style beaters, many of them built by the villagers themselves. Few of the families have their own beaters, so those with beaters share them for a modest fee, allowing everyone to avail themselves of this timesaving device. Aside from the beater, most of the families have all of their own equipment. Soaking and washing the fiber in the streams and rivers has also gone the way of the wooden mallet, as abundant water is now piped into every household. Large stationary concrete vats are used both to soak the fibers and for sheet formation. Large metal vats, with wood fires underneath, are used to cook the strands of fiber. The moulds are basic, a simple wooden frame with a strong and durable nylon or plastic mesh fabric stretched tightly over it. The fiber used is a variety of paper mulberry. In the past, the fiber was collected in the surrounding jungles. Today, most of the fiber comes from Thailand, via Laos, crosses the Lao border at Mohan (磨憨), China, and is then trucked to Manzhao. The dried strands of fiber are about 150 centimeters (59 inches) in length and 2 to 3 centimeters (about an inch) in width. The dry fiber costs the papermakers eight rmb per kilogram. The fiber is soaked for 12 to 20 hours; boiled with ash; separated from impurities and bits of bark; and then beaten. Huge amounts of fiber are put into the beaters, literally filling them to the brim. Quantity over quality seems to be the norm. We have seen two types of sheet formation. In the first, the pulp is mixed in the water-filled vat and the mould is dipped in. In the other, with the vat filled only with water, the mould is floated on the top and pulp is poured into the mould and distributed. The first method is most common. We believe the second method is for special orders. The mould is inserted into the vat with the edge farthest from the papermaker first, held submerged for just a moment and lifted out, letting the water drain quickly. Sheets are pulled very rapidly and set out to dry still on the mould. It is a common sight to see the courtyards lined with row upon row of moulds, set against each other in an inverted "V" formation drying in the open air. A typical courtyard can hold up to 150 to 200 sheets of paper drying on moulds, and often rows of drying paper line the village lanes. Before they are completely dry, a woman quickly makes her way through the rows, giving each sheet a light rubbing or burnishing. A common pot lid is used to burnish the sheets; it is held by the knob on top and the smooth, curved lip of the pot is run over the sheets. The drying sheets are well supported by the strong, tightly stretched fabric on the moulds. The winters are warm with blue skies and an average temperature of 65 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit, an ideal climate for drying paper. The summer is usually hot, with frequent and heavy rains, which interrupts the otherwise daily routine of papermaking. Except during the rains or festivals, paper is made year round. The average papermaking family today earns approximately 3,000 rmb per month from their paper. Some families we met earn as much as 9,000 rmb, but most earn substantially less. The average family produces between 1,000 and 2,000 sheets per month. Despite the differing quantities of paper produced, there is not much distinction in quality between the different papermakers. In addition to papermaking, villagers supplement their income by growing and processing tea; growing rice, sugarcane, and watermelon; and making ceramic roof tiles. Among the households we visited, the average income from papermaking was 30,000 to 40,000 rmb per year; 10,000 to 20,000 rmb a year from tea production; and 10,000 rmb from rice production. The majority of families seem well off and most of the families we met have a car and a few motorcycles. Indeed, it appears that the number of papermaking families continues to grow, lured by prospects of a higher income. The continuation of hand papermaking seems dependent on the continued production and popularity of tea. The village of Manzhao, located about 60 kilometers southwest of Jinghong, in the Dai autonomous region of Xishuangbanna (西双版纳), Yunnan Province, has, until recent times, been somewhat forgotten. Historically the area was part of the Kingdom of Sipsongpanna, a close cousin to its neighbor to the south, the Lanna Kingdom, now present-day northern Thailand. Even today Dai (sometimes referred to as Tai or Thai) is the language of choice, with only the young able to speak standard Chinese. The Dai people of Xishuangbanna are culturally and linguistically linked more to southeast Asia, with the borders of Burma, Lao, and Thailand only a few hours drive away. The Dai script used in Manzhao is very close to and, in some cases, the same script used today in the northern areas of Thailand. There are many active monasteries in the area, often several in each town. In all of the monasteries we visited in Xishuangbanna there is an ongoing tradition of writing the sacred texts by hand on local handmade paper. Recently, though, we have discovered the modern age yet again creeping in, with the introduction of digi- Woman making paper in Manzhou. Note how she inserts the far edge of the mould into the vat first. Yu Yingjiao, a village papermaker burnishing sheets with a pot lid. tally produced texts. In discussions with the monks we were told they believe that the use of mass-produced, machine-made texts will help spread the word of Buddhism in the area, which has languished in recent times. While almost everyone will profess to being Buddhist, for most of the young it is just a word and they have no real knowledge of the scriptures. The monks we met are on a mission to change that. And since there are relatively few monks, it would be nearly impossible for them to hand write so many texts. Perhaps this marks the beginning of the end of hand-written texts using handmade paper. Atop the hill that overlooks Manzhao is a very old Buddhist monastery that escaped the ravages of the Chinese Revolution and most of the Cultural Revolution. It has thus preserved, uninterrupted, the practice and study of Buddhism. There are now eleven Buddhist novices from the village studying at the monastery. The village of papermakers below the monastery was also spared much of the turbulence of the revolution, mostly due to its remote location, difficult terrain, and lack of good roads. Though the daily life of the villagers remains much the same as it has for generations, new roads have been established, and the link to the outside world is facilitating rapid change. All houses now have electricity and abundant water is now piped into every compound. About ten years ago, the villagers were persuaded to tear down most of the old wooden Dai houses, replacing them with concrete and brickblock construction. A few of the old houses were spared, still giving a glimpse to the past. Though the old wooden Dai houses were incredibly beautiful, even romantic, they were entirely made of wood and must have been very difficult to maintain and certainly difficult to keep mosquitoes and other annoyances out. The new houses are more practical, cleaner, and may be an improvement to the lives of the locals. Over multiple visits in recent years, we have discovered five more papermaking villages in southwestern Yunnan, some of them even more remote than Manzhao. We look forward to exploring them soon. All of the papers from Manzhao, including the sample included here, are made from a variety of paper mulberry. There is little variation in either appearance or quality among the papers produced by the different papermaking families. This is a paper not made for beauty (although Nick finds it beautiful and uses it for drawing and painting), but for a very functional purpose. The paper is a natural-colored, soft off-white and, not quite soft to the touch, it lies somewhere between soft and a little rough. It has a dreamy quality to it, as one sees in the little puffs of pulp that float throughout the sheet in the not-quite-perfect fiber distribution. There is some variation in the thickness. Some sheets are almost translucent, while others are a bit more opaque. The paper has a gentle rattle to it. By most modern hand-papermaking standards, the paper would be labeled as coarse. But, as a painter who works sometimes on paper, Nick enjoys the imperfections, the human quality. The family of Yan Dui made this paper. The household has seven members, of which three are engaged in papermaking. They produce from three to five thousand sheets per month. Each sheet measures roughly 180 x 46 centimeters (70.9 x 18.1 inches), which makes it almost four times long as it is wide. Paper samples generously donated by the authors.
