As you have probably heard, cantaloupes exported from Honduras have been accused of causing a salmonella outbreak that has affected 50 people. The FDA has essentially banned cantaloupe import, at least from the company responsible, which has major ramifications for the cantaloupe export industry. The Honduran government has responded to this crisis in various ways: earlier this week, Honduran president Mel Zelaya was interviewed on CNN and broke open a melon, cut a slice, and proceeded to feast on it without fear; yesterday, three top Honduran officials traveled to Washington to fight the ban.
So while North Americans are fearing death by melon, some Honduran workers are fearing death by starvation. Ok, that's a little dramatic, but according to yesterday's newspaper, 1,800 employees have already been laid off. In a country whose major economic activity is exporting, one anomaly in the market can be almost catastrophic, at least for the people who are absolutely dependent on the foreign market for their livelihood.
Perhaps this warrants a comment on export in general. In February, Amanda and I had the opportunity to visit the largest shipping port in Central America, just up the road from San Pedro Sula in Puerto Cortez. As I said before, Honduras is an export country. It ships coffee, bananas, pineapples, watermelons, cantaloupes, clothing, mangoes, car harnesses, papayas, grapefruit, plantains, and much more all over North America and Europe.
Environmentally, those are a lot of miles of shipping.
Economically, Honduras is absolutely dependent on the markets in other countries.
If the coffee market is flooded with cheap coffee from Asia, Honduran farmers make nothing. If the banana crop is wiped out by a hurricane, the country takes a major economic blow. What does it mean, as a North American, to be tied to Central America in this way? Our tastes and whims have such a direct effect on families in Honduras being able to eat, yet we don't know much about where our food and consumer products actually comes from -- the faces behind those who sew our shirts and pick our mangoes. When you meat a struggling coffee farmer who pleads with you to buy fairly traded coffee, it demands a new sense of urgency. By choosing to not buy fairly traded coffee, I'm essentially telling him that his life is not worth the few dollars more per pound I would have to pay. All of our consumer choices have a direct effect on actual people, and this realization has been haunting me, and will continue to haunt me as I begin to rethink my consumer choices now and in the future.
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4 comments:
Jon, why did you delete your comment? What's your email address?
Andew, Sorry I had left a long-ish comment and then meant to change it to make it shorter, then forgot step 2 after doing step 1. I didn't really know you folks were in Honduras until I stumbled on this website by accident (I blame Danita for not telling me, but she merely took the tack of pretending like you've been there forever, and I should have known it instinctively). Anyway. I happen to be coming to Honduras next week. I'm coming with a medical brigade from Shoulder to Shoulder. We'll be spending the majority of two weeks in San Jose Negrito (out near Progresso? (is that where they make the soup?). Go figure. My email is jon.sommers@gmail.com.
Dear Andrew & Amanda, that was a wonderful piece you wrote about the exports especially the coffee. Wonderful food for thought. Grandma C said there weren't too many imports when she was a girl. I am glad we have them now but we sure take them for granted. Grandpa says "Hi and thank you for the message." We will be seeing Zach in LA next week and hope he'll have a good time here. Hugs & kisses from all of us here.
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