PANTAI CAHAYA BULAN, Malaysia”•Shafie Jusoh loves traditional Malaysian kites so much that he can’t get a good night’s rest unless he’s been working on them daily.
“I need to make kites everyday, if not I can’t sleep,” the 69-year-old said. He began making them when he was a young boy, skipping classes to entertain his flights of fancy.
“If you don’t do it everyday, you will lose the technique,” he added.
Shafie is among a diminishing group of Malaysian master kite-makers who have dedicated their lives to breathing life into the ancient craft.
A colourful giant two-metre kite with extended wings greets visitors at the entrance of Shafie’s dark and dusty studio in a sleepy village in Kelantan state.
“I made this kite 30 years ago. You need 25 men to fly it,” the self-taught kite-maker quipped proudly as he showed a faded photo of it soaring in the air.
A wooden table at his studio is lined with several awards from government agencies for his efforts promoting Malaysia’s kites, a national symbol, worldwide.
He recalled one particular visit to Paris many years ago, where he had brought over 30 Malaysian kites to an exhibition and all were sold quickly.
“To the foreigners, the kites are just so unique and they love it” he said.
The early morning rays stream through a rickety green window, dancing on the thick veins on his arm as he flips and turns his knife, cutting a spiny bamboo stick to perfection.
After thinning out several bamboo sticks, he bends and ties them with strings to form the main kite frame.
Separately, using a small knife, he cuts out intricate floral designs on an assortment of coloured paper. These are painstakingly pasted onto tracing paper which is then glued to the main bamboo frame.
The kite is then left indoors for a day to let the glue dry.
A ribbon is attached tightly to two ends of the kites and this produces a loud “swoosh” sound when the kite makes sharp turns in the sky.
