Taiwan Today

Some 17 years have passed and Cai Pei-wun was only 9 years old at the time, but she still remembers clearly her first glimpse of the workers at her mother's factory as they rolled, twisted and braided rice straw into rope. "They were sweating under the scorching sun, but laughter could be heard all over the place--it was like they were actually playing instead of working," she says. "My mother noticed I was fascinated, and she told me I had the potential to excel in the trade. She even said I might take over the factory some day."

As it turns out, Cai's mother knew her daughter pretty well. After that first visit to her mother's company, Cai began to spend most of her free time helping in the rice fields and on the factory floor. As soon as she was old enough, she even started driving the pick-up truck that transported rice stems, or rice straw, which is the raw material used to make the rope. "I really wanted to help," Cai says. "I had seen my mother working so hard ever since I was a child. Her passion for rice-straw weaving must have gotten to me."

In 2007, at the age of 24, Cai did in fact succeed her mother to become the owner of the company. Formerly doing business under the name Yung Cheng, the company is now called Ximeinuowa, a transliteration of the Japanese word shimenawa, which means sacred rope.

Peng Qiao-ling, Cai's mother, explains that ancient Japanese tradition holds that rice is a gift from the gods, so rice-straw rope has long been made in Japan as a way to thank them, pray for blessings and ward off evil spirits. Today, shimenawa is frequently used by adherents of Japan's Shinto religion as a way of demarcating sacred space, with the rope frequently seen on the gates or walls of temples, shrines and homes. It is also tied to sacred landmarks like rocks and trees that are thought to be inhabited by spiritual beings. According to the tradition, the sacred rope must be replaced each year during New Year celebrations.

Bonus Harvest

Most other crafts that utilize rice straw use the leftover stems after the rice grains have been harvested. The stems used to make shimenawa, however, must be cut from 70 to 80 days after planting. The reason, Peng explains, is to make sure the rice stems retain adequate nutrition, as the maturing plants begin to send most of the available nutrients to the rice grains as they develop. Harvesting the stems early works to the advantage of local rice farmers, since the shorter growing period enables them to squeeze in an additional crop each year. Even better for the farmers, green shimenawa straw typically sells for the same price as mature rice.

Once gathered by special harvesting machines, the rice stems are sent to the factory, where they are heated in large barrels for 10 hours. Cai explains that as traditional shimenawa is green, this curing process is used instead of drying the stems in the sun, which would bleach them. After curing, the straw is sorted by hand before being made into different sizes of shimenawa.

Shimenawa has been made in Miaoli County for export to the Japanese market since 1988, when a Japanese shimenawa manufacturer visited the county to investigate Taiwan's rice straw and comparatively less expensive labor. He found suitable straw but nobody who knew anything about the craft of making shimenawa. Undaunted, he started offering free classes to teach locals the necessary skills. From this beginning, the industry soon developed into one in which Japanese buyers placed the orders and provided samples of the finished product, while Taiwanese workers harvested the rice and made the ropes. The relationship benefited both sides--the Japanese had found a cheaper source of shimenawa, as the cost of the raw material and labor had become expensive in Japan, while the people in Miaoli had found a way to generate some extra income.

Peng Qiao-ling's godmother was one of the first shimenawa manufacturers in Miaoli County's Gongguan Township. Although Peng occasionally helped at the factory, she put most of her time into running an accounting firm she had started in Taipei County. Some 18 years ago, however, shortly after her firm bought its first computer, she came to the realization that she needed to find another line of work. "I knew we were going to rely a lot on that thing, but I sat in front of the monitor for hours trying to figure out how it worked without much success," Peng says. "In fact, it was really frustrating. I finally gave up and said to myself: 'This is not for me! I'm finding myself another job.'"

In 1991, after handing the operation of the family's accounting firm over to her two eldest daughters--Cai's older sisters--Peng started looking for a new job. As it happened, her godmother was considering retirement, so Peng decided to buy the rope factory. "I wasn't thinking too much about the future of the trade," she says. "I was looking for a new career and thought that even though shimenawa was Japanese, manufacturing it was actually a unique and localized industry for Gongguan that deserved to be continued."

Job Opportunities

After it is cured, the final rolling and braiding of the rope is mostly done by part-time workers outside the factory. "It's a welcome side job for local housewives and older people," Cai says. "The learning curve is short and working at home means the housewives can take care of their kids and other chores at the same time." From April to October, depending on the number of orders Ximeinuowa receives for the year, the company may hire as many as 150 locals, many of whom are new immigrants that have married Taiwanese spouses. "It's difficult for the new immigrants to find a full-time job, so part of their income actually depends on us," Cai says. "But for the company, these workers are one of the reasons why we are still here."

Peng recalls that during the local industry's heyday during the early 1990s, there were several shimenawa factories in Gongguan, and business was reasonably good for all of them. But within a few years, these labor-intensive factories were either forced out of business or relocated to Southeast Asia or mainland China, where labor costs were lower, and Peng's factory became the last one manufacturing shimenawa in Taiwan. The elimination of its local competitors, however, did not result in more orders for Ximeinuowa. The company's business dropped from the 10 or so 20-foot shipping containers of shimenawa it had produced in the 1990s to just three or four containers a year by the early 2000s. Peng found that she was often forced to dip into some of the income generated by the family's accounting firm to buy raw materials, maintain machines and pay workers. "I admit I didn't see much of a future in the business then," she says. "I guess I was just hanging in there without thinking too much."

Much to Peng's surprise, however, things began to improve around 2005, as the Japanese buyers shifted their shimenawa orders back to Taiwan after finding that the quality of products made elsewhere was substandard. In 2008, Ximeinuowa exported 12 shipping containers of shimenawa to Japan, representing a 20 percent growth rate over 2007. "We haven't been--and probably won't be--able to compete against mainland China or Vietnam on price, but we've been concentrating on supplying quality products on a consistent basis," she says. "Apparently, the Japanese learned that 'you get what you pay for' and returned to us."

Shrinking Margins

But even though Ximeinuowa had made something of a comeback, it still had problems making ends meet, given the industry's shrinking profit margins. Cai Pei-wun explains that the company had not been able to raise prices for nearly 20 years, even as production expenses continued to increase. "I thought the company had no future," she says. "The whole thing seemed simply too labor-intensive to be profitable."

Thus, although she was emotionally attached to the shimenawa trade, Cai began attending classes at Yu Da College of Business in Zaoqiao Township, Miaoli County. She graduated in 2004 and found a "normal" job at a bank shortly thereafter. The bank job lasted only for a year, however, as Peng, trusting a mother's intuition about her daughter, managed to persuade Cai to take over the business. "She used some 'tactics' on me," Cai says with a smile. "She claimed that she had some health issues and had to retire. By the time the results of her physical exam came out--she turned out to be fine--I'd already resigned from the bank."

So after a short detour into the world of banking, Cai took the reins in 2007 as the company's third owner. Since learning that her health was not in danger, Peng has continued to play a role in the company, mostly as a designer. Unlike the company's former business model, which focused on making shimenawa for the export market, Cai sought to develop sales opportunities in the domestic market. The mother and daughter recreated Japanese designs of door and wall decorations, combined shimenawa with auspicious symbols made of ceramics and visited Japanese restaurants all over Taiwan to pitch their products. However, most of the restaurants were run by Taiwanese owners who were unfamiliar with shimenawa and showed little interest in purchasing the products.

Back to the Future

The person who triggered Cai's interest in the company developing its own designs is former ROC Tourism Association head Stanley Yen, who visited the factory in June 2007 while on a trip aimed at investigating and promoting Miaoli's tourism resources. "He said that using rice straw to make bags, footwear and other things used to be part of daily life for people in Taiwan," Peng says. "These things have been replaced by modern products, but the craft is still special and has the potential of drawing the interest of local and foreign tourists."

Tourism and product development, however, were a little beyond the capability of a company that had been focusing on basic manufacturing for nearly two decades. Peng and Cai therefore joined the Small Golden Town project, an effort launched by Gongguan Township aimed at developing the local tourism industry by combining the resources of the area's restaurant, accommodation, agricultural tourism and crafts industries.

Help also came from the Innovation and Incubator Center of National United University in Miaoli. The first thing the center proposed was changing the name of the company from Yung Cheng to Ximeinuowa. "Yung Cheng was too common and sounded like it could be the name of any factory, but Ximeinuowa is catchy and tells people what we're doing," Cai says.

The Innovation and Incubator Center also suggested that the company arrange DIY classes. Ximeinuowa acted on the suggestion and today, tourists and students on field trips are introduced to rice culture and get a chance to try their hand at weaving simple items such as small rope decorations. There are also weaving courses for Gongguan residents held at the factory, as well as at community universities in the neighboring townships of Tongxiao and Yuanli. Participants in the courses can learn the craft of making shimenawa for their own enjoyment, or they can even apply to become contract workers for the company.

Expanded Offerings

In the past year or so, while Cai has been busy promoting the craft, Peng has concentrated on developing new designs. Some of her more popular efforts are the animals of the Chinese zodiac, which rotate every 12 years. For 2008, the design was a woven straw rat; this year it is an ox. Another well-received design is a souvenir knot that combines the rope with small ceramic objects or figurines of traditional gods commonly seen around Taiwan. All of the ceramic items are made by a local company. And to expand their product lines, Cai and Peng also hired a designer who focuses on combining rice straw, shimenawa and functional items such as penholders or clocks.

Although the income from the domestic market--including the DIY classes, teaching at community universities and local sales--only accounts for one-tenth of Ximeinuowa's annual revenue, this does not seem to worry Cai too much. The reason for her optimism is the resurgence of sales to Japan brought on by the company's emphasis on quality products. The factory's profit margin may be thin, but it is still able to generate a steady income, allowing Ximeinuowa to avoid tapping into revenue from the family's accounting firm.

The factory's earnings also allow it to invest in developing new designs and products targeting the domestic market. "Taiwan is a rice culture and people here are sentimentally attached to rice," Cai says. "The market is definitely there--we just have to tap it with the right products and the right approach."

As the actual making of shimenawa for the Japanese market is outsourced to contract workers, there are usually only a handful of fulltime employees in the factory these days. The designs of the products they work on may have been updated, but the rest of the scene remains much the same as it was 17 years ago: the smell of green rice, the sorting, rolling and weaving of the straw and the sound of laughter--as if the workers are actually playing instead of working.

Write to Jim Hwang at jim@mail.gio.gov.tw