Narrator: This is one of the last places in the world
that makes papyrus paper.
People in this small Egyptian village
reinvented the ancient process in the 1970s.
And the industry thrived selling papyrus art to tourists.
But today, there's little demand for the paper,
and the plant is nearly extinct in Egypt.
Those that remain are determined to carry on
this piece of Egypt's history.
We visited Al-Qaramous to see how the ancient craft
is still standing.
Atef Mohamed Shehata spends about two hours
harvesting papyrus by hand from the single acre he owns.
It takes a year for a papyrus seedling to grow to this size.
After it's cut down, it grows back in one or two months.
At one point, the village's land was filled with the plant,
but today there are only 10 acres left.
Atef carries the plant about a mile to his workshop,
where he employs seven people.
They chop the stalks based on the size they want the paper.
Then workers spend the entire day
cutting the papyrus into thin strips using a fishing line.
This method is more efficient than the ancient process.
Narrator: But it's still exhausting.
The strips soak in hot water mixed with potassium hydrate
for a couple days.
The chemicals speed up the fermentation process.
Narrator: Then, they rinse the strips with water and chlorine
to lighten the color.
Workers lay out the wet papyrus strip by strip.
Each sheet of paper has two layers --
one vertical and one horizontal to strengthen it.
Then the stack goes into the compressor to dry.
Narrator: After that, the sheets are sandwiched
between pieces of cardboard to soak up
any leftover moisture.
Narrator: Atef sells the paper to artists across the village,
including Saied Tarakhan.
He started out farming the plant,
and today he works as an artist.
Narrator: But since the COVID-19 pandemic put a halt on tourism,
he's struggled to find a market.
He had to close down his shop and lay off his workers
just a couple weeks ago.
Now he works out of his home.
Narrator: All of Saied's paintings include
ancient Egyptian motifs, to pay homage to papyrus' origin.
Narrator: Egyptians invented papyrus paper at least 5,000 years ago,
replacing clay tablets and revolutionizing the written word.
They used it for things like marriage contracts
and shopping lists.
They also turned the plant into a weaving material
for sandals and baskets.
Cheaper paper made from wood pulp or plant fibers
eventually replaced papyrus paper,
and the plant became nearly extinct in Egypt
by the early 1800s, until an art professor and an engineer
brought back seeds from other African countries
in the 1970s.
They set up plantations and workshops in Al-Qaramous,
and papyrus became the center of the local economy.
Narrator: Almost everyone in the village was involved with
processing raw materials or making artwork
to sell to tourists.
Saied got into papyrus because his cousin
was the art professor who helped revive it.
He remembers it as a turning point for the village.
Narrator: But after the Arab Spring uprisings in 2011,
tourism in Egypt crashed.
The country saw a 63% drop in visitors
over the following years through 2016,
and the market for papyrus paper nearly vanished.
A decade later, the industry had just started to recover
when the pandemic hit.
Saied has gotten just one order in the past week.
A painting like this normally sells to tourist shops
for 50 Egyptian pounds, or $3.
Bigger and more detailed pieces go for
up to 500 Egyptian pounds, or $32.
But with sales down, Saied has had to work another job
to keep his business afloat,
and he says he'll do everything he can to save the art.
Narrator: Atef is also determined to keep Egypt's history alive.
Narrator: And with Egypt's tourism industry
expected to recover this year,
Saied is holding out hope for papyrus.