This was written for Vandana Shiva's quarterly journal "Bija," but I foolishly missed the publication deadline........As someone who has lived most of her life in North America, the supermarket is a familiar sight. Until recent years, I found them almost comforting. I could go to any city or town in North America and find a store that sold almost every kind of food imaginable. Aside from a few minor cosmetic variations, the stores and even their contents were virtually all the same. The stores were relatively large, with wide aisles lined with the same brands of packaged, canned, and frozen foods. Dairy products and meat would be in the back, and fresh produce were inevitably at the side of the store farthest from the entrance. I could navigate my shopping cart through the aisles of any store with remarkable predictability and rarely had difficulty finding whatever I might be looking for. When I was finished, there would be a long row of cashiers waiting to take my money and put my purchases in disposable plastic bags.
As I grew more aware of the politics and ecology of food, I gradually became more concerned about the amount of waste created by these large stores. They required huge paved parking lots to hold the cars that brought the customers. They used vast amounts of electric power to run the air conditioners in summer, the heaters in winter, and to keep the huge open freezers and refrigerators running. The foods seemed to contain more packaging than food, and the plastic shopping bags piled up faster than I could reuse or recycle them. Then I started reading the ingredients on the food packages, and began to stay as much at the edges of the grocery store as possible, where they keep the fresh produce and dairy. As I became even more aware of the food I was eating, where it had come from, and who was profiting from it, I began to shy away from the supermarkets in favour of my local farmers' market. I enjoyed the busy, bustling trip to the market every Saturday morning, and I particularly liked meeting the people who grew the food I was about take home and cook.
What may seem surprising to most people in India is the fact that I consider it a privilege to shop at the farmers' market. I go out of my way to buy food this way, even though there is always a supermarket a closer my house. Going to the market means shopping at prescribed times and sometimes paying more money for my food. To me, the personal connection with the farmers, the knowledge about what I am really buying, the freshness, and the feeling of empowerment I get from stepping outside the corporate food system is liberating and empowering, even as a busy university student living on a tight budget. I feel lucky just to have a farmers' market in my city. Although they are becoming more popular, many towns in North America don't have farmers' markets. In the city where I lived as a child, the only place to get food is from a big supermarket.
When I am in India, one of the things that gives me great pleasure is food. I love the flavours and the freshness. I love how easy it is to find healthy vegetarian meals. I love the chai and the snacks available from vendors in the markets. And I especially enjoy shopping for food. I take great pleasure in going to the milk stand for dahi, the bakery for sweets, and the market for spices. I can't help but smile when I hear the subji-walla call out today's produce as he wheels his cart past my flat. I don't miss those huge, cold, impersonal, “efficient,” factory-like supermarkets at all.
Given all this, you can imagine my shock when I heard that supermarkets were opening up in cities across India. Was this the death of the small market, the fruit cart, and the neighbourhood vegetable vendors? Was this freshness, convenience, and character going to be given up in favour of generic, air-conditioned supermarkets owned by large corporations that sell more packaged than fresh foods? I had to see some of these stores for myself to get an idea of what was coming.
My first stop, in April 2007, was at a Reliance Fresh outlet in the Delhi suburb of Faridabad, one of nine stores opened in the capital region since January. Rather than being located in a market, the Fresh store was in a small shopping complex with underground parking on a busy road. There were no other shops in the immediate vicinity. Above the flyover next to the shopping complex was a huge billboard advertising the bargains and convenience offered at Subhiksha, a similar chain of grocery stores. When I first entered the Fresh store, I was strangely relieved and disappointed at the same time. The store was about the size of a small restaurant – hardly the massive hypermarket I was expecting. (Some can be as large as a skating rink or sports arena. One popular Brazilian supermarket chain is even named “Big.”)
Basically, the Fresh store was a pared down copy of a typical western grocery store. Although smaller, the feeling and look of the store was very North American. The security guard at the stop entrance didn't ask me to leave my bag with him while shopping. There were employees handing out plastic shopping baskets to customers on the way into the store. They even had wheeled shopping carts available, which made me immediately aware of the fact that, unlike most shops in India, the goods in the store were displayed on shelves along aisles wide enough to push the shopping carts through. The people inside – mostly women – looked very affluent. Just like back home in Canada, the produce was kept off to the side, so that I had to walk through aisles of packaged foods in order to reach the fresh fruits and vegetables.
On the self-service shelves there were a lot of basic dry goods like rice, flour, and sugar. I noticed half an aisle of various forms of sugar, which seemed far out of proportion to the amounts of staples such as grains. There were also instant dosas, parantha mixes, pickles, biscuits, and chutneys with brand names like “Mother's Pride” and “Maggi.” There were also some American-style products such as ketchup, mustard, and relish. Some products were made in India, while many others were imported from other Asian countries. There was salad dressing imported from the United States, which contained the ubiquitous high-fructose corn syrup, an ingredient that is apparently not yet used in food manufacturing India. American brands of soft drinks such as Coke and Pepsi were made in India and contained sugar. The North American versions of these and most other packaged foods no longer contain any real sugar, which has all been replaced by corn-based sweeteners. These corn sweeteners have been associated with numerous health problems including obesity, diabetes and other metabolic disorders.
Once I made it through the packaged food aisles to the fresh produce, I again noticed a striking similarity to western supermarkets. Fruits and vegetables were displayed in wooden crates slanted outward for a better view. Prices of most items were posted on signs along with the name of the food and a UPC barcode. Some of the items were local, but many of these so-called fresh foods were imported from outside India. I even found red delicious apples grown in Washington State on the west coast of the US. These are the very same apples that can be found in any supermarket in North America. They even had the same identifying sticker on every individual apple. When caught taking photos by a manager, I was told that taking pictures was against company policy. I was welcome to walk around and “enjoy the ambiance” of the store, but I would not be permitted to photograph anything. No reason was ever given for this policy. I did get in a few good shots before I had to put my camera away.
The prices on the produce were per kilogram, and were given in rupees and paisas, which seemed highly unusual to me. Nobody charges Rs14.45 for anything; it's usually Rs14 or Rs15, if prices are fixed at all. I could only guess that this was done to resemble the way prices are posted in North America, in dollars and cents (because the smaller denominations are commonly used there). Perhaps it is a way to increase the price slightly while still having it appear low, as is commonly done in the west. Most people focus on the first number (e.g., Rs14) and don't pay attention to the amount after the decimal point. This adds up if you are purchasing several kilos of a product, but we tend not to think about that.
On my way toward the cash registers, I passed by the frozen food section. There were a few large, stand-up glass-front freezers displaying frozen packaged foods. There were frozen paranthas and other instant meals along with a variety of frozen vegetables. I even found McCain Superfries, a pre-cooked frozen French fry product made by a Canadian company that recently opened a factory in Gujarat state. (Most of the French fries made in this factory are destined for McDonald's restaurants across India). Near the store's exit were about three or four checkout counters where Fresh employees scanned barcodes and packed customers' purchases in disposable plastic shopping bags. The cashier lines were set up so that anyone waiting in line would be standing next to a display of chewing gum, candy, and chocolate bars from Cadbury and Nestle.
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Although relieved that the Reliance Fresh store I visited wasn't a sprawling hypermarket, I wasn't convinced they didn't exist somewhere in Delhi. I visited several others in Delhi and surrounding areas, and all were quite similar. Some of the Delhi outlets were in busy market areas as well as on major roads, and most were about 2000 square feet in size. I still wanted to see a hypermarket, so I hired a car and set out for Gurgaon. Here I found Spencer's Hypermarket, part of the first hypermarket chain in India. Spencer's is an Indian chain started by a Britain 140 years ago. It was part of a large, busy suburban shopping mall. Once inside, I felt like I had immediately left Asia—I could have been in any hypermarket in North America (with the exception of the large number of staff available to assist me at Spencer's). This was a massive store offering everything from books and CDs to groceries, toys, appliances, ready-made western clothing, and mobile phones.
The grocery section was in the middle of the huge store, and the fresh produce was in the middle of the food section. It was surrounded by frozen foods, packaged products, cleaning products, and international foods such as British and American biscuits, potato chips, sauces, canned goods, and bottled drinks. The foods were predominantly packaged, and were a mix of desi and imported. I saw familiar brands from home like Ragu tomato sauce, Nabisco biscuits, Kraft, Quaker Oats, Nestle, Ritz Crackers, Oreo cookies, and McCain frozen French fries. I even found Nestle ghee for sale. Many traditional Indian foods were dressed up as western foods: frozen, instant mixes, and other types of “heat and serve” preparations. The entire store was immaculate. There was also a ready to eat pizza stand called US Pizza. It seemed that the ideals of hygiene and convenience were for sale more so than food.
I wanted to take some photos of the Spencer's store, but again photography is against company policy. Here, “No photos allowed” was posted on a sign at the entrance. One thing that really struck me about this store was the prices. The woman in front of me at the checkout line spent nearly Rs2000 for four small bags of groceries. I purchased a bottle of Wish Bone salad dressing (from the US, containing high-fructose corn syrup), a package of McCain frozen potatoes (from the factory in Gujarat), and a small bottle of laundry soap for Rs195.45. The total was rounded down to the nearest five paisas. However, bananas were only Rs2.50 each, and onions were offered at Rs9.50/kg. I couldn't tell whether they were local or imported, although I did find more Washington apples with their familiar stickers.
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Why am I so concerned about supermarkets in Delhi? What’s wrong with cool, clean stores, fixed prices, and the convenience of one-stop shopping? Nothing, if that’s what it was really about. Supermarkets are convenient, and comfortable, and they can be cheaper than shopping at smaller shops. But it is important to think about what is being given up in exchange for these things. Entire books have been written about this issue, but I’ll keep it brief here.
Some of the people most affected when supermarkets become the predominant source of food are the small shopkeepers. Inevitably, local markets, bakers, and vendors can’t compete with the whole package offered by supermarkets. They can’t offer everything in one place. They don’t have the huge buying power of a large chain, and eventually they can’t compete in price either. Eventually, these small neighbourhood shops close and more than just a few local jobs are lost. We loose the connection to community that comes with buying from the local market. We loose a part of our culture. Sometimes whole market areas close down and we are left with no place to shop except the supermarket. (Recall how lucky I feel to have the option to shop at a farmers’ market in my city in Canada.) When we lose that choice we lose a lot of power. When we have no option but to shop at the supermarket, the corporations running the supermarkets get to decide what to sell, where they get it from, and what to charge. We can’t go in and ask the clerk to bring back that particular variety of melon or apple that we love but haven’t seen in years. We have to buy the Washington apple with the little sticker on it.
All those processed packaged foods for sale in supermarkets come with more than just convenience. They come with excess packaging that fills up the landfills and litters the streets. They are manufactured in factories that pollute and drain the water supply. They also contain preservatives and artificial ingredients that have been linked with cancer, obesity diabetes, and other health problems that affect a growing number of Indians. They contain excessive amounts of fat and salt. What seems at first like efficiency and modernization can have unwanted consequences.
Finally, we can’t forget about the impacts of all this on local farmers and biodiversity. Big supermarket chains need a constant supply of foods, which means they prefer to buy from large farms. Because they are the major buyer, they also get to dictate the price and the conditions of sale. Seasons don’t mean much in the world of supermarkets. Many people in the west where supermarkets are more prevalent don’t even realize that fruits and vegetables are seasonal. We have a constant supply of everything, because it is imported from wherever it happens to be in season. While this may seem good for the consumer, it means eating food that has traveled long distances, and that has been grown from seed bred or engineered to produce durable (as opposed to tasty or nutritious) foods. This reliance on imports, while possibly less healthy than eating fresh, seasonal produce, has important environmental impacts. Shipping perishable foods around the world produces a lot of greenhouse gases and other pollutants. The focus on durable varieties and consistent supply is a risk to biodiversity. If the supermarkets only want two varieties of potato, farmers stop growing the other varieties because they can’t sell them.
Ultimately, all these issues relate to control, which is unbalanced in favour of the corporations that own the supermarket chains. Farmers and consumers are forced to adapt to the needs of the corporation, while being told that we are being offered more and more choices. What we have now realized in the west is that the seemingly endless choices on offer at the supermarket are really just the same few ingredients in different packages, and it becomes harder to find real, fresh food. Is it really worth giving up sovereignty over our food supply for a little bit of convenience and air conditioning?
