There was a time when many people in Taiwan were intimately familiar with rice straw, a material that can be used to make any number of things. The straws could be tied on one end of a stick, forming a broom. They could be bundled together and burnt as a torch, used to make thatched roofs, or turned into bags for carrying various commodities.
But with the passage of time, Taiwan has also undergone an incredible number of changes. Straw is used to make fewer and fewer goods, and not surprisingly, the number of people with a first-hand acquaintance of straw is dwindling every year.
One group in Taiwan—the Straw-Sandal Mound Cultural and Educational Association—is doing its best to reverse this trend. Its goal is not only to preserve the memory of straw, but also to reintroduce it into the everyday lives of as many people as possible.
“Since 1998, when the association was founded, our teachers have held a number of classes on how to make sandals, artwork and landscape design objects using rice straw,” Hun Kuang-fun, director-general of the SSMCEA, told Taiwan Today April 27 in Caotun Township, located in the middle of central Taiwan’s Nantou County.
“To date, more than 1,000 adult students have attended classes at the local community college to learn straw-weaving techniques,” he continued. “Hundreds of kids have also taken part in our holiday camps, where they have great fun making straw art.”
According to the association, Caotun Township first got its name during the Qing dynasty (1644-1911), when the town served as a transit point on the way from the busy ports of Changhua County to the hinterlands where many indigenous tribes used to live. At Caotun the traders would rest and grab a bite to eat—and often they would buy a new pair of sandals there as well, throwing their old ones away.
The discarded shoes formed a pile that grew higher and higher, and eventually the place came to be called Caotun, which translated into English means “mound of straw.” Making straw sandals became a means of livelihood for many local residents, while for others it was only an avocation.
“Straw is ideal for sandal making because of its soft, flexible and non-slippery characteristics,” Hun said, adding that these properties were well understood by the many fishermen, cart pullers and other laborers who bought the sandals, and who would never dream of going to work without their straw shoes.
“But the sandals are not just comfortable and functional; they are also surprisingly durable. This is because kenaf, a strong plant with very strong fibers, is also used in making the shoes,” Hun said, adding that it was only natural that the public would take a liking to such a sturdy yet comfortable product.
“The relationship between straw and kenaf can be understood by using an embroidery analogy—the kenaf is to the yarn as the straw is to the thread,” he explained.
According to Hun, several steps are required to make a genuine pair of rice straw sandals. During the preparatory stage, the straw and kenaf are dried in the sun. Then the straw is struck repeatedly to make it fluffy, while the kenaf is rolled into long ropes by hand.
“The actual process of making the sandals begins when the weaver fastens the kenaf rope to a band around the waist,” a teacher from the association said. “Then the rope is wound around some spikes on top of a wooden device, so that two separate circles appear, forming the basic structure of the sandal.”
The sole is made by slowly knitting the straw upward and downward across the kenaf rope, Hun said, adding that 30 knitted rows are needed to make a sandal big enough for a typical adult.
“Then the weaver has to add six loops to the right and left sides of the sandal, to allow ropes to pass through them, be tied, and function as shoestrings.
“The last step comes when the weaver turns the sandal upside down and trims off the messy parts,” the teacher said. If not satisfied with the finished product, workers will sometimes adjust a sandal’s thickness, depending on the purposes the footwear is made for.
Mastering the craft takes years, and making straw sandals is never an easy job, according to the association. Even experienced craftsmen have to spend more than an hour to make one pair of shoes. Some quit when still in the apprentice stage of their training because the rough texture of the kenaf hurts their skin.
Although fewer people are aware of the value of straw-based products these days, SSMCEA has still managed to thrive, with its 20 straw-weaving experts engaged not only in making sandals but also in creating works of art. Its mission is to bring sandal-making techniques up to date, while also exploring other possible applications of rice straw.
Lin Bi-hsia, a teacher of physical education at Caotun Junior High School, has worked for many years in the straw-art field, and her list of accomplishments, which she proudly describes to visitors, includes a dozen lovely shrimps and 99 potted roses.
“I could not say exactly how long it took me to finish the straw rose pedals. I have to teach at school during the day, so the only time I had to work on them was at night. The biggest challenge was folding the straws, which can break very easily,” she said. A single broken stalk could ruin an entire work, she added.
“Compared with the elaborate roses, the shrimps were not that hard to make,” Lin said. “Inside their bodies I placed some steel wires, around which I knitted and coiled the straw to make the joints and exoskeleton of the shrimps.”
Her artworks are now on permanent display at the National Taiwan Craft Research and Development Institute, where other exquisite straw animals and utensils made by her fellow artisans can also be found.
According to Hun, the association’s efforts of the past few years have helped it win great acclaim from both the public and private sectors.
In an annual straw art competition held by the ROC Council of Agriculture, the association grabbed the top two seats last year, outperforming all other contestants.
“We have given first place to ‘Dragon Dance,’ because it so vividly depicts the traditional dragon dance commonly held to bring about a year of good harvest,” said the COA judges.
“The dancers’ vigor is well represented, and the work reminds us of the kind of cheerfulness found in traditional agricultural societies—a cheerfulness that has been partly lost in today’s world,” they added.
“Affection,” which came in at second place, shows a cow licking her young calf and a farmer taking care of them. “The straws were arranged in round plates so that the prickly surface of the piece would resemble the natural texture of cattle skin,” the COA said.
“The artists’ performance is very innovative and impressive,” it noted.
Hun said that just weeks ago the association received a request from a nearby temple to make a straw statue of Mazu, a popular goddess worshipped by the people of Taiwan.
“The buyer said the plain, elegant feel of straw is a perfect match for the goddess’s pristine image,” he said.
Currently working on the statue, the association has many plans for the year.
“We will continue straw classes in the community college; we also plan to submit newer creations to the COA competition, which we hope will again win some top prizes,” Hun said.
“Via the beauty of straw art, we hope that the young generation can come to better appreciate Taiwan’s staple plant, and also to remember the close relationship we once shared with the natural environment.” (HZW)
Write to Aaron Hsu at pj1210meister@mail.gio.gov.tw