Libya Traditional Jewelery Hangs on by Silver Thread

A Libyan woman crafts a piece of traditional filigree jewelry. Mahmud Turkia AFP
A Libyan woman crafts a piece of traditional filigree jewelry. Mahmud Turkia AFP
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Libya Traditional Jewelery Hangs on by Silver Thread

A Libyan woman crafts a piece of traditional filigree jewelry. Mahmud Turkia AFP
A Libyan woman crafts a piece of traditional filigree jewelry. Mahmud Turkia AFP

n Tripoli's Old City, young Libyans weave delicate patterns with threads of silver and gold to create traditional filigree jewelry -- reviving an art almost lost through decades of dictatorship and war.

Abdelmajid Zeglam is just 12 years old, but his minutely detailed creations are already selling fast in the streets around a Roman-era archway dedicated to emperor Marcus Aurelius, AFP said.

"I hesitated at first for fear of failing because I'm young, but my mum encouraged me," Zeglam said.

He is the youngest of 20 or so students, around half of them female, studying at the Libyan Academy for Traditional Gold and Silver Crafts, in a building that once served as a French consulate to the Ottoman Empire.

Trainees learn about precious metal alloys before studying the art of filigree, in which beads and threads of the precious materials are woven into intricate designs then soldered together to create jewelry.

"I love it," Zeglam said. "I want to become a petroleum engineer in the mornings and a jeweler in the afternoons."

Mohamed al-Miloudi, a 22-year-old civil engineering student in a baseball cap, said he had not missed a class since signing up in September.

"It's a hobby, but I'd like to make it into my trade," he said.

The institute's founder, Abdelnasser Aboughress, said filigree jewelry was an ancient tradition in the North African country.

"Craftsmen in the medina of Tripoli were trained by Jewish masters and later by Arabs, at the prestigious School of Arts and Trades" founded in the late 19th century, he said.

- Secret jewelers -
But generations of tradition were abruptly halted after Moamer Kadhafi took power in a 1969 coup.

The capricious ruler scrapped the constitution and established his "jamahiriya" -- a medley of socialism, Arab nationalism and tribal patronage.

He also scrapped the private sector, seizing companies and confiscating their assets.

Overnight, self-employed artisans lost everything: their workshops, their livelihoods and their students.

"The state reduced Libyan crafts to nothing and forced a generation of young apprentices, who should have taken up the baton, to instead leave the traditional crafts and join the army" or become civil servants, said Aboughress.

The 55-year-old was born just a few streets away in the medina, and despite Kadhafi's ban, he took up the craft at the age of 15.

Along with his father, for decades he worked in secret on jewelry for trusted clients.

Now, he hopes to pass the craft on to younger generations, as well as fighting back against a tide of "lower-quality jewelry imported from Egypt and China (which) has flooded the market".

Aboughress is working on a project to document and preserve as much of this cultural heritage as possible.

- 'People with passion' -
Student Fatima Boussoua hit out at the practice of selling old Libyan silver jewelry at cheap prices to be exported then melted down.

"It's part of Libya's artisanal heritage that's disappearing!" she said.

A dentist in her 40s who also teaches at the University of Tripoli, Boussoua has been training at the center for the past year, hoping to master the craft.

"We should be training artists to preserve our heritage," she said. "All it needs is people with passion."

While becoming a true expert takes years of training, Aboughress's students are already producing works for sale online or at the center itself.

That said, he admits the project needs financial help to buy the expensive raw materials -- as well as "moral support".

He hopes that with enough resources, he will one day be able to set up a string of other workshops across Libya.

"It's time to bring this craft back to life," he said.



Chinese Tea Hub Branches into Coffee as Tastes Change

A worker raking coffee beans during the drying process at the Xiaowazi, or Little Hollow, coffee plantation in Pu'er - AFP
A worker raking coffee beans during the drying process at the Xiaowazi, or Little Hollow, coffee plantation in Pu'er - AFP
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Chinese Tea Hub Branches into Coffee as Tastes Change

A worker raking coffee beans during the drying process at the Xiaowazi, or Little Hollow, coffee plantation in Pu'er - AFP
A worker raking coffee beans during the drying process at the Xiaowazi, or Little Hollow, coffee plantation in Pu'er - AFP

At a mountainside cafe in southwestern China, Liao Shihao brews handfuls of locally grown beans into steaming cups of coffee, a modern twist on the region's traditional drink.

For centuries, Pu'er in Yunnan province has given its name to a type of richly fermented tea -- sometimes styled "pu-erh" -- famous across East Asia and beyond.

But as younger Chinese cultivate a taste for punchy espressos, frothy lattes and flat whites, growers are increasingly branching out into tea's historic rival.

"People are coming to try our hand-drip coffee... and more fully experience the flavours it brings," Liao, 25, told AFP.
"In the past, they mostly went for commercialised coffee, and wouldn't dabble in the artisanal varieties," he said.

Liao´s family has run the Xiaowazi, or Little Hollow, coffee plantation for three generations.

Nestled in a shady valley, spindly coffee trees line its steep hillsides, their cherry-like fruit drying on wooden pallets outside.

When AFP visited this month, clusters of tourists sipped boutique brews in the airy cafe overlooking its verdant slopes.

"It's very good," said Cai Shuwen, 21, as he perched on a bar stool lifting sample after sample to his lips.

"Even though some beans are more astringent than I imagined, others have exceeded my expectations."

- Brewing success -

Every year, Pu'er's plantations sell tens of thousands of tons of coffee to major Chinese cities, according to government data.

In metropolises such as Beijing and Shanghai, a thriving cafe scene has emerged in recent years, driven by people aged between 20 and 40.

To Liao, a trained roaster and barista, coffee from his home region possesses "a creamy flavour with a silky, viscous mouthfeel".

Modern commercial plantations only sprang up in Pu'er in the 1980s, and the area is still better known for its centuries-old tea trade.

Liao's grandfather, Liao Xiugui, said "nobody knew anything about coffee" when he arrived in Pu'er a few decades ago.

At the time, the older man was one of very few people in China who had studied coffee cultivation.

But the region's relatively high altitude and temperate climate were well-suited to the unfamiliar crop, the now 83-year-old told AFP.

"The quality of the coffee we plant here is strong but not too bitter, floral but not too heady, and slightly fruity," he added.

Free from artificial pesticides and interspersed with other species for biodiversity, Little Hollow yields about 500 tons of raw coffee fruit per year.

Liao Xiugui himself drinks two or three cups a day, and credits the caffeinated beverage for keeping him spry in his advanced years.

"Drinking coffee can make you younger and healthier... and prevent ageing," he smiled.

"Also, everyone is tired at work these days... and they want to give their brains a boost."

- Richer pickings -

China's coffee output has risen dramatically in recent years, though it still lags far behind traditional powerhouses such as Brazil, Vietnam and Colombia.

Yunnan, near three borders with Southeast Asian nations, accounts for virtually all of China's coffee production, much of it concentrated in Pu'er.

On a visit to Yunnan last month, President Xi Jinping said the province's coffee "represents China", according to state media.

Keen to further expand the sector, officials have rolled out policies to improve production, attract investment and boost exports, according to government statements.

They have also merged coffee production with tourism, dovetailing with a central government push to increase domestic consumption.

Longtime farmer Yu Dun, 51, said she had opened new income streams with plantation tours, homestays and a restaurant fusing coffee with the cuisine of her native Dai ethnicity.

Her prospects were bright, she said, adding that she also earned "10 times" more revenue from her beans since learning to process and roast them herself.

"We used to say only rich people could drink coffee, but that's all changed now," she said.