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The Uncertain Fate of Amate Paper

Summer 1996
Summer 1996
:
Volume
11
, Number
1
Article starts on page
20
.

Carol Tyroler recently finished her Master's degree in
International Development Policy at Duke University and has worked in the
village of San Pablito since 1990. She is also a papermaker, bookbinder, and
anthropologist based in Durham, North Carolina.
Worldwide, the production of crafts has provided economic means for
households and communities. Often, however, craft production has led to
mismanagement and the exploitation of natural resources. The story of the
Mexican amate paper industry provides a sad tale of such exploitation, resulting
from increased commercialization of amate paper and mishandling of the trees
used in the paper's production.

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Those familiar with Mexican bark paper know of its smooth texture, earthy quality, and historical importance.1 Two groups currently produce amate paper: the Nahuas of Chicontepec, Veracruz, who use the paper in their ceremonial rituals, and the Otomis of San Pablito, Puebla, who produce the paper almost exclusively for commercial sale. Many have seen the brightly colored paintings depicting Mexican peasant life on amate paper, or the plain amate sheets in varying tones available in art supply stores. Few, however, may be aware of the desperate situation that this industry faces and the complexity of the linkages involved. In 1990, I founded Amatl Papers, a small papermaking micro- enterprise cooperative in San Pablito. The mission of Amatl Papers focused on the social, economic, and ecological impacts that commercialization of amate paper has had on San Pablito. I felt that although product development and finding new buyers for the paper were important to the economic success of San Pablito, these goals were insufficient. I began to have serious concerns regarding the availability of the amate trees, as well as the future of amate papermaking. Amate trees, mostly different species of wild fig and mulberry from the plant family Moraceae, grow in hot climates. Overharvesting has significantly reduced the number of traditional species available to produce amate paper, and papermakers are now beginning to use other trees. In general, papermakers use trees which are between three and five years of age and have reached approximately four or five meters in height. About nine pounds of fiber can be collected from a tree of this size. Of the 2000 Otomis who live in San Pablito, approximately 200 families are involved in some way in the papermaking process. (Not all 200 families make the paper; some sell wood or provide the lime and wood ash used in preparing the paper.) To gauge the amount of fiber used in San Pablito, I calculated the following: if 100 papermaking families were to use 49.5 kg of fiber per week, this would translate into about 12.5 trees per family per week, and about 360 41 cm x 61.5 cm sheets per week. In one year, this translates to 257,400 kg of fiber, 65,000 trees harvested, for about 2,860,000 sheets of paper.2 That is a lot of trees! As a result of the decline in amate tree populations, only three natural colors of varying tones--a dark brown, a rich green, and a light cream--can now be produced from the available amate species. In order to simulate previously available hues, the papermakers use commercial bleach and Rit-type dyes, which they then discard into the soil. Unfortunately, even the barks they currently use can be difficult to obtain. The cream-colored fiber is both the hardest to find and inferior to those available a decade ago. The brown bark grows the fastest and is therefore easiest to obtain. Older trees produce darker tones; because those who gather the bark now allow fewer amate trees to mature, the dark brown fibers available today no longer match the deep brown shades nor the quality of papers produced in the past. Extractors harvest amate bark by slitting and then peeling the bark from both the branches and the trunk of living, still-standing trees. In order to sustain growth, they must harvest the amate trees respectfully. They should only take bark from trees which are roughly eight cm in diameter around the branches and which have thirty cm of bark around the trunk (although dimensions vary by species). If they strip the trunk bare down to the ground, they leave the inner sapwood exposed and the tree eventually dries up and dies. Unfortunately, for years amate bark has continued to be unsustainably harvested. Those trying to resolve the problem of the destruction of amate trees have focused solely on reforestation efforts with the papermakers. These attempts, however, have failed. Despite local depletion of the trees, villagers in San Pablito have no intention of planting more amate trees. Apathy among villagers has many roots. In the first place, men from neighboring villages continue to supply them with amate bark and thus the papermakers do not perceive indications of reduced resources. In addition, the historical significance of the village has continuously brought government agencies into San Pablito to help. This has resulted in the villagers' expectations that someone else will solve their problems. The papermakers take no initiative and many have lost their sense of hope and determination. Finally, there are land tenure issues; few own land and those who do are fearful of thieves stealing the bark from any trees they might grow. All of these reasons have left the papermakers with little incentive to plant amate trees. The jonoteros--those who supply amate (jonote) bark to the papermakers--constitute an important but disregarded link in the papermaking process. Years ago, when amate bark was available within the area surrounding San Pablito, the papermakers and a few jonoteros from outlying areas collected it. With few exceptions, most San Pablito papermakers now rely exclusively on the jonoteros to bring them the raw material, as a result of the decline in local tree populations. All of the jonoteros I met come from Puebla. Previously they may have also come from the neighboring states of Hidalgo and Veracruz. Stricter harvesting laws, however, have halted the collection of bark in these other states. After almost five years of working with the papermakers, I began to feel I had reached an impasse. I decided it was imperative that I learn more about the jonoteros. I wanted to know who they were, where they came from, and what was happening to the amate trees. I felt that they might be the last hope for continued efforts to keep amate papermaking alive. In the summer of 1995 I received two grants to conduct this research.3 I designed a questionnaire and interviewed twenty-one of what I estimate are a total of thirty or thirty-five jonoteros who supply bark to the papermakers of San Pablito. The jonoteros constitute the most destitute members of their society. They have minimal belongings and no savings, and live hand-to-mouth. Like most Mexican peasants involved in non-timber forest extraction, the income they derive from the fiber they gather is supplemental. Most are coffee growers. Others supplement their livelihoods by selling cash crops or working as wage laborers in their villages. Most earn on average about a third less than other rural workers. The jonoteros I interviewed came from the northern mountains of Puebla, within approximately 35 kilometers of San Pablito. They have no experience making paper and live apart from the papermakers. In general, they are unaware of the history of amate papermaking and will probably move on to sell something else, either when obtaining the bark is impossible or when monetary incentives disappear. Some learned to collect amate from their fathers and some who grow coffee had amate trees on their plots. Amate trees grow well with coffee plants. The coffee plants need significant amounts of shade, but suffer because the amate tree leaves fall and fail to provide sufficient protection from the sun. Now, because they have discovered the value of amate trees for making paper, jonoteros are felling the trees and using better sources to provide shade for their coffee plants. Every Saturday around 5:00 AM, the jonoteros arrive in San Pablito with huge bundles of amate, which they display near the plaza. This consistent supply of amate bark has helped create a false sense of abundance and availability. Actually, although these jonoteros make the sojourn weekly, they must travel farther and farther for the bark. Moreover, most of them only bring the brown and green tones; few can find enough of the cream bark to collect and sell. They spend approximately three days gathering the bark, one day traveling to San Pablito, one day selling the bark, and one day on their return trip home. It was refreshing to work with them; they seemed longing for some help and were more than willing to talk with me. They invited me to their villages and homes, and described their lives as jonoteros working in San Pablito. Yet, despite their congeniality, they face a number of dilemmas. Gathering the bark is arduous. Many travel several days by foot or horseback into the forests to collect the bark. One jonotero described the sojourn as "dangerous and difficult." He told me: For the papermakers, it is not dangerous...The bark is delivered to their doors. They do not have to deal with dangerous insects like scorpions, or having to travel such long distances to collect the bark. They have it easy. The jonoteros are not an organized group and, although they usually travel to San Pablito together, they compete against each other in selling their bark. They experience great insecurity in both collecting and selling their goods. While they supply the necessary material needed to make amate paper, they often sell the bark for less than it is worth, in order to have enough pesos for their return trip home. The San Pablito papermakers know this and often wait until the end of the day to make an offer. Moreover, the price the jonoteros receive is based on the money available and circulating within San Pablito. If sales of paper have been slow or nil, the papermakers have little or no money to buy bark. The jonoteros are sometimes forced to sell at below cost. Often the papermakers request that the jonoteros leave the bark on credit, to be paid for on their next trip. This is difficult for them. They must sell all of the bark they bring to San Pablito. Their goods represent a week's work, it will rot if they do not sell it, and they need to return home to their villages. They therefore sell their amate fibers by the end of the day at prices that usually do not reflect the value or the time spent collecting them. Most jonoteros do not have rights to land or control over access to amate trees and, therefore, have no incentive to harvest the bark sustainably. The insecurity of the market also causes them to collect as much as they can when the bark is available, paying little heed to future repercussions. There are no obvious remedies to the amate dilemma. Clearly this complex problem requires solutions at various levels. On the papermaking side, the papermakers need an expanded and stable market. Product development would add value and lead to a larger, more diverse market. Researching the sustainability of other resources for papermaking may allow the papermakers to continue making paper and to move into other markets. Agricultural waste products--such as corn husks, banana leaves, and sugar cane--could be used for making paper, and new techniques could be introduced through workshops. In addition, organization is a primary issue for the papermakers. If they worked together rather than against one another, as they have historically done, their efforts would be more profitable. Presenting these alternatives to the papermakers as means for income generation may spark their interest in pursuing them. Furthermore, educating consumers better about this unique paper industry may help to promote socially responsible purchases. As for the jonoteros, creating incentives for harvesting sustainably will depend on creating a reliable, consistent market, which includes fair prices for the final product as well as for the raw material. One way that they could get more for their bark would be to create a warehouse. If the bark extractors could build a surplus of dried bark, they could sell it to the papermakers without worrying whether their goods would spoil. They would be able to ask higher prices and to store barks that were seasonal and harder to find. Unfortunately there is neither capital nor credit available to them, nor are they organized to search for such funds. On the other end, the papermakers could also benefit from organizing a coalition to raise paper prices. Amate paper, a beautiful, supple paper with an important history, is now in crisis. It would be terrible to lose this art form. I hope this article sheds some light on this weakened paper industry and that better educated consumers will help halt the extinction of a pre-Colombian tradition, aid in the economic success of a large number of families, and alleviate current deforestation in and around San Pablito, Mexico. Notes 1. An earlier article by the author on the process of making amate paper appeared in Hand Papermaking, vol. 9 num. 2, Winter 1994. A sample of amate paper was included in that issue.---Ed. 2. El arbole de amate y especias afines usadas en la produccion de papel, por Bravo, Carlos y Maria Turok, Ciudade de Mexico, 1995, escrito por Conejo Britanico. 3. One grant was from the Inter-American Foundation, and the other from the Student International Discussion Group at Duke University.