Banana Paper Takes Center Stage at Local Kite-Making Workshop

For anyone who grew up in Curaçao, kite flying is more than a pastime – it’s a rite of passage. Whether you learned it in school or your father taught you the basics on a windy afternoon, chances are this childhood activity still sparks strong memories. While it may no longer dominate public spaces as it once did, kite flying continues to live on in the hearts of many.

That sense of nostalgia came alive once again during two special kite-making workshops hosted by Farm to Crafts at Hòfi Cas Cora. Led by local preservationist and hiking expert  Frensel Mercelina, participants of all ages gathered on April 30 and May 3 to craft their own kites entirely from scratch. At the heart of the workshop was a unique and sustainable material: banana paper.

The banana paper—handmade in warm, earthy tones of beige and blush—was crafted by Taliet Marsman, a multidisciplinary artist and papermaker. With just 250 grams of dried banana fibers, Taliet produced enough paper for both sessions. The textured sheets were used to cover the kite frames.

     

From Fields to Skies

Beyond the banana paper, even the frame materials were sourced from nature. “During the era of slavery, people would use whatever materials they could find outdoors to make kites,” explains Jorge Jansen of Fundashon Fli di Kòrsou. “They made lightweight frames from dried cactus wood—called datu—and used leaves and flowers to cover the structure.”

Originally, kites were used as scarecrows to protect crops. The leaves would be glued to the frame using the mucilage from pounded kadushi cacti or the gel from the karawara fruit. Over time, especially with the influence of Catholic missionaries, kite flying evolved from functional to recreational. “Soon, kids began playing with kites,” Jansen continues. “The first kite-flying competition in Curaçao was held in 1874, and they’ve continued almost every year since.” The kite season traditionally starts during Lent and runs through July—so don’t be surprised if you spot these airborne wonders drifting through the sky after Easter.

Even today, Jansen still receives requests to make kites for agricultural use. “The demand is shrinking though, as synthetic eagle kites from China are much cheaper. You can buy one in a store for a fraction of the cost of a handmade kite,” he says. These mass-produced kites are sold worldwide to deter birds and protect harvests.

 

Born to Fly—and Sell

Frensel Mercelina lights up when talking about his entrepreneurial journey, which started at a young age. He’s been building kites since he was six, taught by his mother. Before he hit his teens, Frensel had already become a young entrepreneur, gathering natural materials from the mondi (scrubland) to craft kites that his older brother would then sell at the market. They sourced tissue paper—often used to wrap deli meats and cheese—at a bargain or recycled brown paper bags. Even kite string was ingeniously made from the plastic mesh used to package onions.

During the workshop at Farm to Crafts, Frensel’s materials were neatly laid out on a worktable: banana paper, string on spools, and shaved datu cactus wood collected from a fallen trunk. “Datu wood is very light,” Frensel says. “Even with a gentle breeze, a well-balanced kite will soar.”

Gino Martina, part of the Farm to Crafts team and Frensel’s right hand for the day, was tasked with finding flexible wood on the Hòfi Cas Cora grounds to form the all-important arch that gives kites their lift. “Even more important than height is the sound,” Frensel explains. “The humming, buzzing sound you hear when a kite flutters between trees or electrical wires is a cherished part of our island’s kite tradition.” Gino returns with eucalyptus, though tamarind, watapana, or welensali are typically used.

Even the glue for the workshop was made from a common household staple: flour. A bit of water, some heat, and stirring creates a thick paste. 

   

Kite Models and Memory

The simplest kites don’t require glue or wood at all. “The first model most kids learn is the kapo, made from a sheet of notebook paper,” Jansen says. “You fold, punch holes, and snip—easy and fun.” For the workshops, participants tackled more advanced designs.

Frensel presented several of the island’s classic kite shapes. “The Fli di Strea (star kite, also called Fli di Kòrsou) flies straight up like a rocket. My uncle used to win competitions with it every Queen’s Day,” he shares.

When Frensel constructs a v-shaped kite and asks Instituto Buena Bista (IBB) students to name it, IBB mentor Omar Martha whispers, “Fli buskuchi,” named after its resemblance to a saltine cracker. Omar, who learned kite-making from his uncles and neighbors, adds, “It’s all about passing it on.”

Other designs included the Fli Indjan (tipi-form kite), Fli Kabes di Kas (roof kite), Fli Kaha (box kite), and Fli Bentana (pane kite). “Do you know why the kite tail is so important?” Frensel asks. “It stabilizes the kite and helps prevent it from spinning or crashing.” One of the most beloved parts of a kite is the lele—a fluttering flap that creates that signature sound and adds to steering and stability.

Frensel’s passion for kite flying is infectious. Cleo de Brabander, who launched the Farm to Crafts initiative, offers another way to fall in love with the tradition: “Read The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. It’ll make you love kites in a whole new way.”

Not all kite games are harmless, however. Omar recalls a more aggressive tradition: equipping kite tails with razor blades to slice through opponents’ strings and send their kites crashing down. “It’s a last-man-standing competition,” he says. The tactic is mentioned in Cleo’s beloved novel. “Giving kids a weapon to destroy someone else’s creation? That’s not the spirit we want to pass on”, she’s quick to add.

 

Rooted in Culture

The idea for the workshop emerged when the Crafts Council in the Netherlands considered a cultural exchange with a Dutch design kite club. But Cleo chose to keep it local and grounded: “It makes more sense to start small, rooted in Curaçao’s own traditions.”

That deep-rooted connection was clear when one participant brought her father, who lives with dementia. “Kite flying brings back memories from his youth,” she said. “And memories from long ago often resonate most strongly with people facing memory loss.”

Unbeknown to the organizers, the kite workshop turned out to be more than an arts-and-crafts session. It became a gathering space across generations where memory and creativity lifted off together.

 

Did You Know?

Kites didn’t appear in Europe until around the 1600s. Their origins lie in Asia, where they were used in China for centuries—for everything from measuring height to spiritual ceremonies. In the late 13th century, explorer Marco Polo wrote about how Chinese sailors would tie criminals to giant kites and send them soaring into the skies. Source: De Vliegende Hollander: cultuurgeschiedenis van de Nederlandse vliegerverbeelding vanaf 1600.