The secret? A mangy and uncooperative weed.
From Weeds to Paper
To rebuild the community, Rafisura and her husband didn’t need to look beyond their own backyard. Cogon grass, dubbed the “enemy of the farmers” because of its weed–like qualities, could be harvested to make a functional product—handmade paper.
By leveraging farming know–how, the Rafisuras sought to teach unemployed community members to use local plants and flowers to make paper. The organization, comprised of a mere ten people, was named SHAPII—Salay Handmade Paper Industries, Inc.
The first attempt at making cogon grass into paper was not only labor intensive, but a bit unsightly. “It looked like an egg carton,” said Rafisura.
So she applied her background in the sciences, experimenting with different solutions to create a viable product.
“Handmade paper is not only an art, it’s a science,” said Rafisura.
With limitless patience, the SHAPII team tried using salago bark (highly prized in Japan for its sheen) and abaca bark (with a consistency like cogon grass). They even found pineapple and banana yielded beautiful paper.
In order to build business capacity, Rafisura traveled around the world—to India, China, and the United Kingdom—to learn about the multicultural uses of handmade paper.
Rafisura’s vision for SHAPII is centered on holistic development. Even its flag, equal parts blue and pink with a strip of green through the middle, represents gender equality and environmental responsibility.
Working at SHAPII creates a positive identity for the community, said Rafisura. “Our members take pride in being Filipino and creating beautiful things,” she said. “We have a renewed sense of love for our country.” SHAPII impacts about 10 percent of the entire population of Salay, according to Rafisura.
Rafisura says that many have found a major boost in confidence through their work at SHAPII, especially women. “Women have improved their self esteem by 200 percent,” said Rafisura. “They are prouder, more beautiful because they can now work.”
Maybe it’s the group’s mantra, “Yes, the Filipino can!” which employees recite daily, that has engendered such change. Or maybe it’s Rafisura’s steadfast determination to meet seemingly insurmountable challenges over the years.
But she would never take the credit. “It is a beautiful story that I am so happy to be a part of,” Rafisura said. She insists that it is God’s doing, not her own, that has brought peace back to Salay.
Photo courtesy of Ten Thousand Villages
