Jute and a Jazz Poem

The dual theme of my A to Z Challenge this year is the world of Commodities and Poetry Forms so the juxtaposition of these two themes may throw up some strange poems – could be a Heroic Ode to Heating Oil or will it merit a Haiku or a Haibun – whichever, I will be endeavouring to bring you interesting facts about commodities that may change the way you think about the stuff we variously depend on…

By commodity I mean certain items that are of both sufficient value/volume to be traded in special markets and are generally volatile enough to attract traders in “Futures” which are a way of hedging bets in the trading world of stocks, shares and commodities.

The A to Z Challenge runs throughout April and will consist of 26 posts – there are only a couple of letters for which I couldn’t find commodities but plenty of poetry forms to carry the day

Worldwide Trade in Jute and other Textile Fibres, 2022 – $285M – the world’s 1115th most traded product representing 0.0012% of total world trade.

A Jute field, Jute stems, Jute fibres and rope made from Jute.

“Jute is a long, rough, shiny bast fibre that can be spun into coarse, strong threads. It is produced from flowering plants in the genus Corchorus, of the mallow family Malvaceae. The primary source of the fibre is Corchorus olitorius, but such fibre is considered inferior to that derived from Corchorus capsularis.” quoth Wikipedia and it has a long history of use in making string, rope and traditional packaging such as hessian (burlap) sacks. You might think that this is old hat but the quest for sustainable, biodegradable materials to replace plastics in everything from rope to packaging, is leading to a renewed interest in Jute. Furthermore, the story of Jute illustrates some earlier geo-political shifts and has – in the UK been responsible for some serendipitous sweet things.

Jute fibres come from the “skin” or bast of the jute plant just as linen comes from the bast of the flax plant. The only plant fibre grown more than Jute is Cotton and other natural fibres include hemp and more recently, bamboo. Due to the nature of the Jute plant, a single fibre from the bast can be up to 4 metres long and also very strong, making them extremely effective in applications such as string and rope. Jute is sometimes called the Golden Fibre on account of its strength and cheapness. To read a briefing on Jute as a Commodity for investment – look here.

Jute is mostly grown in South Asia – especially India and Pakistan and in the mid-19th Century, it made the fortunes of industrialists halfway around the world in Dundee, Scotland. The first bales of jute fibre arrived by ship from Bengal in 1820, and by the 1890s, more than 120 jute mills were in operation, employing around 50,000 people. The industrial revolution was producing machinery that could operate in mills together with a population of cheap labour – mostly women and children – to process the fibres into products. However, those same industrialists were among the first to recognize the benefits of outsourcing because they abandoned their Scottish workers between the two World Wars and set up factories in Calcutta (Kolkata) where the labour was even cheaper and the raw material was on hand. Thus the finished product could be shipped around the world rather than the raw material and then shipping out the finished goods – in this respect Jute was an early adopter of a practice that has decimated many “First World” countries. During the Second World War, there was a great need for sandbags in particular and government subsidies protected the Dundee mills from competition from India, this kept some of the Jute mills open a little longer, but the industry really died progressively until the last shipment of jute arrived in 1998 and the last mill closed in 1999. You can see the Dundee Tapestry which commemorates the industry here.

There was an unexpected side product of shipping Jute to Dundee. There is a story of a storm-beset Spanish ship forced to shelter in Dundee and selling its cargo of oranges to an enterprising local greengrocer who, on discovering that they were bitter “marmalade” oranges – made just that! Dundee is adjacent to the Scottish Lowlands which are renowned for their soft-fruit growing and since jam was a way of preserving fruit in the pre-refrigeration era, to make marmalade was an obvious thing to do. Whether this is the real origin of Dundee Marmalade – what is certainly true, is that ships bringing Jute from India, having made a long sea passage from the Cape of Good Hope, northwards, or more likely zig-zagging back and forth across the Atlantic with the winds, would be very short of water, fresh fruit and food generally by the time they passed Spain and Portugal and so they would often call into port there before the final leg of the voyage to Dundee. The time of the Jute harvest in India meant the ships would be passing Spain/Portugal at just the right time for the orange harvest and without the need to fully stock their larders, there was room to take marmalade oranges to Dundee and keep the nascent marmalade industry going.

And so to the poem, J turns out to represent a paucity of poetic forms – the only one being Jazz Poetry “poetry that “demonstrates jazz-like rhythm or the feel of improvisation,”. Originally this was merely poetry that referenced jazz music and jazz musicians, but as Jazz has evolved, so has Jazz Poetry and the latest iteration of it in modern times is hip-hop music and the live poetry events known as poetry slams where Rap is the poetry form…So that is where I am heading today SHMG (So Help Me God).

Jute Rap

Ajay’s a worker on a jute plantation
bringing in rupees for the Indian nation
and when the harvest’s in – like done
and dusted – he moves to the mill f’yet more fun
handling jute is rough on the hands innit
and breathing in dust might be his finish

Dem original factory owners came from Scotland
its now in the portfolio of an Indian non-dom
hiding her taxes between the nations
while poor peeps like Ajay expect no vacations
either planting the jute or bloomin’ growin’ it
or working in the factory sepa-rating and spinning it

They say jute’s good – gonna be good for the planet
do away with the plastic and rubbish innit
So Ajay na worry ‘bout lack of work
Ain’t never get the chance for him to shirk…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024

Quinces and Questioning …

If you have seen my Theme Reveal for the A2Z Challenge 2022, then you will know that I am writing about becoming Vegetarian gradually as a response to the crisis in food supply chains sparked by the pandemic and made worse by the WAR in Ukraine. As well, I am keeping to the theme I originally planned of food which can be eaten in its own right as well as becoming an ingredient in other dishes…

Photo by margot pandone on Unsplash

Quince is another fruit I tried for the first time in our lockdown sojourn in Crete in the winter of 2020. Although there were virtually no cases of covid whilst we were there, the lockdown, which began two weeks after we arrived, was very strict and food was one of the few things available for interest. We lived next door to my sister-in-law and her Greek chef partner, who could not stop the habit of producing food in quantity and variety, and quince was one of the things he made for us. Not just the fruit itself, but he carefully kept the skins in water with lemon juice as he peeled them (very tough to peel) since they discolour quickly. Then, whilst the fruit, sliced, was cooking in a syrup with cinnamon sticks and star anise until it magically transformed into a beautiful shade of pink, he chopped up the pieces of skin until they were about a centimetre square, and cooked them in an even more sugary syrup. I have mentioned this Greek tradition of preserving things in syrup before and so far, we had experienced grapes, the pith of the giant lemons and now Quince skin. He cooked it until it also turned pink and thickened just short of setting like a jam. Inspired, I plucked some lemons from over the balcony, bought my own quinces from the market (highlight of my lockdown week) and some Seville oranges which are grown about towns as ornamental trees. I then made marmalade from the three things which I felt to be the best marmalade I had ever made. I hail from Oxford, and along with the annual boat race, the Dark Blue/Light Blue thing, our disdain for Cambridge (the new place, upstart breakaways) is expressed in our choice of marmalade – thick-cut for Oxford, thin-cut for Cambridge – so my marmalade was naturally chunky. It must have achieved a set quite suddenly because despite frequent samples going into the fridge, and the moment I got a set, pouring the marmalade into jars, it came out very firm, not that that’s a problem – however, on returning to England, I found quinces in an Asian supermarket and repeated the recipe with the same thick, but delicious result. I say recipe, but it was the basic jam method, weigh your fruit, cook in the minimum of added water and once cooked, add sugar equal in weight to the fruit – fuller instructions here.

Reminded by one of the comments from Tasha – I had tasted Quince before Crete in the form of Membrillo in which the quince is cooked and pureed and set as a quite solid jelly, slices of which are served on your cheeseboard to enhance the eating of cheese. Delicious!

Short and sweet today… And so to Questioning.

What I have realised in the course of writing these posts for this year’s A2Z theme – especially the half relating to gradually becoming vegetarian, is that I am constantly asking questions, about the world, about current events and about food – well ok that’s not so much new self-knowledge, but realise I feel the need to proselytise about those issues. It makes me angry when I see cynical or misleading marketing by the food industry, or see around the news headlines about the war in Ukraine to the way in which the fallout from Putin’s hubris is falling on the whole world. But it also gives me joy to share the knowledge of food that I have enjoyed gathering over the years, or to try and instil a questioning attitude in others, because the world, it’s food, and our relationship to it is complex. Does that spoil my basic enjoyment of food, not at all, anymore, I imagine, than an obstetrician’s knowledge of childbirth spoils their wonder at the birth of their own children or maybe every baby they see come into the world… I hope my joy in sharing comes across and is not seen as man-splaining…

If you have a favourite, marmalade, or any other food story, or you want the answer to a food question, or feel the need to share food thoughts of your own – feel free to comment, please…