Before the dispersal of the sit-ins in Rabia neighborhood, the village of Karamos in Al Sharqia Governorate had known nothing but work, as its 1,000 houses constituted a thousand papyrus factories. Today, only two houses are still making papyrus, while the other houses are waiting the end of the crisis and the return of tourism.

Karamos’ neighboring villages call it the village of ‘the priests of pharaohs.’ No other village has been successful in the profitable farming of papyrus. This is why they are referred to as priests with a sacred and puzzling secret.

Before the dispersal of the sit-ins in Rabia neighborhood, the village of Karamos in Al Sharqia Governorate had known nothing but work, as its 1,000 houses constituted a thousand papyrus factories. Today, only two houses are still making papyrus, while the other houses are waiting the end of the crisis and the return of tourism.

Karamos’ neighboring villages call it the village of ‘the priests of pharaohs.’ No other village has been successful in the profitable farming of papyrus. This is why they are referred to as priests with a sacred and puzzling secret.

“We were supposed to become a trademark, like Nokia,” says Abdurrahman Sayed, a 40-year-old villager. “Papyrus is Egypt’s trademark, which tourists eagerly look for when they visit Egypt.”

Built of mud bricks, each house is a small factory. Those who do not make papyrus transport it to Cairo and sell it to merchants or transport its raw materials to the village. Even the poor find a way to make a living from this industry. “During the high season, you see it reflected in the faces of villagers as we see people having fun and purchases increase. But in hard times, it shows in our greetings to each other,” says Sayed. Now, there are many depressed faces in the streets.

Forgotten plant

Until 1978, the village was unnoticeable.  A few ruins and some gold, utensils and papyri dating back to the Pharaonic era might suggest that the village was once important. But that position was diminished and forgotten, just like papyrus, which was once a well-known product of ancient Egypt before it became extinct.

The town is just like papyrus; a dead invention brought back to life. Four centuries later, the re-discovery of papyrus needed an Egyptian priest’s will that took its strength from patience and hope; he is Dr. Hassan Ragab, an inventor who was the first to plant papyrus 1000 years after it disappeared.

Born in 1911, Ragab was a multi-talented man. He believed in science and was passionate and full of strength, like an ancient Egyptian priest. When he was the ambassador to China, he saw a plant that looked very similar to the photo of papyrus in the Egyptian Museum and which is also engraved on temples. He decided to become a full-time researcher and went back to Egypt only to discover similar seeds in Wadi El Natrun. He researched them in his farm in Yakoub Island, until he arduously produced a plant similar to the one engraved on ancient temples and the Egyptian Temple. In 1977, after 16 years of research, he started planting it in the Pharaonic Village, which was later brought to Karamos by Dr. Anas Mustafa.

From five to five hundred acres

“In the beginning, owners of touristic bazaars around the pyramid area knew nothing about papyrus,” says Sayed. “Mustafa offered displaying the plant in their stores free of charge. There was a big demand for it by foreigners so store owners asked for large amounts of papyrus. It all started when Mustafa trained 15 girls. And 33 years later, 500 acres have planted with papyrus.”

Same price for 30 years

Ali Hussein, 25, was only nine-years old when he learned the craft of producing papyrus. He worked two shifts starting with chopping papyrus. When he got older and with his father’s help, he along with friends of his started their own business making papyrus in cheaper and easier ways. He uses a kind of paper that does not need chemicals. They are called “cooked papers” and they produce brown papyrus – the easiest project for young people here.

Saada Saleh has three children and a profession that takes all her time. She used to work with her father in his factory, slicing and packing papyrus. Since she got married, nothing has changed except for her workplace. She now helps her husband who cultivates the farm and sells papyrus.

“The income from papyrus saved my husband and father from traveling abroad to work. My relatives in other villages vainly looked for such opportunities and most of them traveled abroad. But now it is a different story. I might agree if he gets such an opportunity because the industry has become too expensive,” explains Saleh.

Saleh produces nearly 40 papers a day or 280 papers a week for one pound per sheet of paper. At full capacity, however, her factory can produce at least 3,000-4,000 sheets of papyrus. Saleh only complains of chlorine and potash, which leave burning marks on her hands.

“In 1980, we used to sell one papyrus for one pound and in 2013 we are charging the same one pound” said Sa’eed Abdussalam, a history teacher whose main income is generated from papyrus trade rather than teaching.

 “Although raw material prices have multiplied dozens of times, papyrus prices are still the same. Raw materials are not subsidized although papyrus is important for tourism and constitutes a symbol of Egypt. Besides, handcrafts are important and we master a handcraft we can compete in globally. As far as I know, all products we buy from China are made by productive households, just like us, and the state there is responsible for marketing their products. Our experience has made the Pharaonic Village which used to plant papyrus prefer buying it from us instead of planting it because it is cheaper. Tourist groups still come to the village to learn how we have managed to reveal pharaohs’ secret. We at least demand developing and promoting the village for tourism.”