My organically-grown watermelons were never in any danger
of exploding this year.
Food security has always been a prime concern of the Chinese state, from ancient times to the present. When I visited China as part of a New Zealand student group tour in 1974 I was impressed by two symbols of how important – and precarious – food security is in such a populous country.
At a large communal farm we were shown the emergency grain store – a huge barn stacked to the ceiling with sacks of rice. In the museum at the tombs of the Ming Dynasty emperors, alongside the opulent clothing and other artefacts of the imperial families, the typical possessions of those who built the tombs were displayed. These included a small china bowl, broken in three pieces but wired together so that it was still able to hold the meagre meals of its owner, who was too poor to buy a new bowl.
No wonder the term 'iron rice bowl' was later coined to refer to guaranteed, well-paid employment – it can't be broken and it never loses grain. Although 'iron rice bowl' jobs (and welfare supports) have been slashed in recent years in China, and many people are suffering as a result, overall food quantity remains the concern of the state at the highest level. Stocks of grain are regularly checked, and Chinese companies are buying and leasing land and farms as far away as Africa and New Zealand in order to produce food for China.
But while quantity is assured this way, the quality varies wildly, from excellent organically-grown food through to utterly toxic chemical-contaminated food. The toxic food ranges from the tragic (the children killed and maimed by melamine-contaminated milk formulas) to the ludicrous, such as the exploding watermelons which were reported widely this week. This has been attributed to the misuse of forchlorfenuron, a growth accelerator, sprayed on the melons during wet weather (although other reports say that the weather conditions themselves are to blame). Certainly all the sprayed melons started exploding, and could not be eaten by humans.
In the centre of Beijing in July 1974 I was struck by the huge watermelons being sold on the streets. They were stacked on the footpaths, in rows up to five metres long and piles about a metre high. At the end of each row a vendor with a chopping block and chopper cut them to the desired size. A big slice for quenching thirst in the summer heat, or half a melon to take home for the family. I don't expect that happens any more, even if there are still melons fit to eat in China. There are probably 'health' regulations to prevent it. China, like everywhere else, puts the industrial cart before the healthy horse when it comes to food safety and quality.
No comments:
Post a Comment