Why does the export authority control organics?

A vertical garden at the Navdanya farm.

“Organics in India fall under the domain of the export authority--and that's deeply insulting.” Dr. Bhatt’s voice was filled with emotion. “There are good reasons for harmonizing organic standards with the rest of the world, but it’s not just Westerners who have a right to eat healthy, organic food! Indians, even poor Indians, have just as much of a right to eat good food. Rather than growing organics for foreigners—which is what putting organics under the export authority implies—we should be growing organic produce to ensure India’s own nutritional security.”

Organic and sustainable farming is Dr. Bhatt’s expertise and passion. He’s worked closely with Vandana Shiva over the past decades and now helps direct Navdanya, a network of seed keepers and organic farmers in India. I was speaking with Dr. Bhatt at the Navdanya farm, a lush block of fields in which Navdanya staff and volunteers cultivate and store seeds from heirloom varieties of mustard, wheat, millet, and other traditional Indian crops. Farmers also come to Navdanya for workshops on organic farming.

Farmers attending a workshop on organic techniques.

The visit was part of an “organics fellowship” organized by an innovation firm (modeled on IDEO) based near Delhi. The other three fellows—a designer, a filmmaker, and a principal from the innovation firm—and I set out to explore organic food in India from a multidisciplinary perspective. We spoke with retailers, organic and non-organic farmers, experts, and others involved in the organics ecosystem. 

People get into organics for different reasons: The owner of a small retail store, for example, prides herself on the quality of the craft organic products she sells, and on making sure the farmers with whom she works get good, fair prices. She says she’s, “In it for the farmer, not looking to provide cheap organic food to Delhi.” 

Satish, from a much larger-scale operation with a very different mission, gave us a different perspective. He manages the North India purchasing of fresh food for Spar, the world’s largest food retail chain, which recently opened its first hypermarket in Delhi. They stock a variety of organic produce, but find that organics make up far less than 1% of sales. Although Satish sees organic as a growing market, it’s limited by the lack of a year-round supply from certified farmers, and the small base of customers currently aware of organics and willing to pay a 30-300% premium. But with a special area in the wholesale market that would facilitate streamlined connections to certified farmers, he thinks retailers could easily create demand for organic food. 

Navdanya stores seeds from these heirloom crops in a seed bank.

Right now, India has streamlined systems to send organic food abroad, not to sell it domestically. Is it a surprise that more than half the organic food produced in India is exported?

What role should organics play in India? In other emerging or developing economies? If you’re interested in exploring these questions some more, join the other fellows and me for a panel and discussion this Friday at the UnBox design festival in Delhi. 

"Leveraging Agriculture to Improve Nutrition and Health"

For all those interested in the broader context for my research on supermarkets and fruit and vegetable markets in India, I wanted to belatedly link to materials from a conference I recently attended on "Leveraging Agriculture for Improving Nutrition and Health." You can also check out my e-poster.

When you ask for a raspberry in India...

"Rasbhari" fruit in a round bundle.

When my Hindi teacher told me the name for this small orange fruit, a little like a sweet tomatillo, was "raspberry," I thought he must be mistaken. But no! The Hindi name for the fruit is "rasbhari," which comes from "ras" (रस), meaning "juice," and "bhari" (भरी) meaning "full."

The English name for the fruit is the cape gooseberry. They're all over Delhi's fruit and vegetable stands right now, artfully bundled in balls like a pincushions, with papery leaves stuffing the inside and the berries studding the outside like bright orange pin heads. The berries are sweet with a slight sour edge, and pop in your mouth like a cherry tomato. Perfect for a snack while walking to the metro!

Goats wearing cardigans!

Everyone's favorite topic of conversation right now in Delhi is the chilly weather. Men are donning sparkly (!) sweater vests and women are bundling layers of sweaters on top of saris and salwar kameez suits. This week I saw my favorite example of protection against the cold in Sangam Vihar--one of New Delhi's largest and oldest unauthorized neighborhoods--where I've been collecting data for my study on fruit and vegetable purchasing habits and preferences. Among dilapidated roads and smells that testify to the sewage and drinking water crisis in Sangam Vihar, I was amused to see dozens of goats looking grandmotherly in cardigans and sweaters. Almost every goat had one!

A young man walks his sweatered goat in Sangam Vihar. I tried to shoot a picture of this particular goat with his front legs up on a store counter, looking too human for comfort!

Sustainable community in the shadow of the Taj Mahal?

This Sunday, a friend and I woke up at 5 AM, fumbled into warm clothes, and drove out to some mustard fields just south of the Taj Mahal to watch six weddings take place simultaneously.

We were in a town called Dayalbagh, an "intentional" community near Agra, the home of the Taj Mahal. The six brides all shared a ceremony. They were required to wear the same simple dress and yellow headscarf. The weddings took place in the fields at dawn, the time of day when everyone in the village puts in a few hours of agricultural work. In fact, my friend and I spent about 15 minutes pulling out weeds from among the mustard plants before we joined the crowd gathering around the wedding. The weddings don't take place every day--this was a special Sunday--so I'm more interested in writing about the weeding than the weddings.

Weeding in the fields at dawn in Dayalbagh.

I first learned about Dayalbagh at the Indian Horticultural Congress two weeks before, when I saw a poster about the sustainable cultivation practices there. The two women presenting the poster described an ideal community: Community members voluntarily work in the fields every morning, dowries are outlawed and women are empowered to organize sustainable industries, and solar panels power the university. It all sounded too good to be true! They urged me to visit.

My friend and I arrived late Saturday night to a delicious meal, complete with roti made from flour farmed in Dayalbagh and yogurt from cows we would visit the next morning. Our host was incredulous that we didn't make our own yogurt. She sent us back with a bit of her culture, and we're using it to make our own back in Delhi.

I had been dubious about whether people actually volunteered in the fields as the poster described. But when we woke up before dawn the next morning and drove out the fields, they were packed. Multiple trucks packed with fifty-plus people each headed through the fog to the fields. We weeded side by side with the director of the university and doctors--everyone had professions of different ranks, but became equal in the fields every morning.

Even after a day of touring the community, I still don't quite understand how it functions. I'll return in January to learn more!

Making Thanksgiving stuffing without an oven

In case it's helpful to anyone else currently living without an oven, I just made pretty delicious stuffing on the stove! I sauteed some onions and garlic, threw them in a pan with dried bread cubes, and added two eggs beaten with milk and Italian seasoning (the only non-Indian seasoning we had). After cooking for a few minutes on the stove (flipping it to cook through), it tasted like Thanksgiving! 

Growing organics for Delhi

This week I had the chance to learn more about The Altitude Store, a social enterprise building the limited demand for organics in Delhi and helping small farmers find markets for their produce. Ayesha Grewal, the founder, works with small farmers in the Himalayas to process their crops into high-value organic products like apple juice and marmalade. She has recently started selling the vegetables that these farmers grow as well.

On Wednesday, I hopped out of my auto at The Altitude Store in Delhi's Shanti Niketan Market just in time to see the last of the organic vegetables packed up for delivery to households in Delhi. Then Ayesha and I headed out through Delhi traffic to visit the farm where she gets her organic eggs and poultry. As we drove through the farm gates, we were welcomed by three enthusiastic Rottweilers and a French farmer named Roger. Roger's farm has provided organic vegetables and free range eggs and poultry to Delhi since 1994. After a lovely French lunch–made  almost entirely from food grown on Roger's farm–Ayesha and Roger inspected the growing lettuce, baby carrots, and arugula and discussed the order for Friday's delivery.

Ayesha and Roger discuss the crops growing on Roger's farm.

Although his kindness and commitment to organic agriculture impressed me, Roger isn't the kind of person Ayesha founded The Altitude Store to support. The store's mission is to improve livelihoods for the small farmers in the Himalayas; these farmers, whom I'm hoping to visit soon, provide most of the products Ayesha sells. But selling specialty products like the baby lettuce grown on Roger's farm helps her build a customer base for the products that come from the small farmers.

After bidding adieu to Roger and his dogs, Ayesha and I headed to a green oasis of organic and biodynamic farming: her own family's farm in Rajasthan. Along with Roger's farm, this farm supplements what the Himalayan farmers can grow. This ensures that all the vegetables her customers want are available. Out in the fields, Ayesha showed me how the amla trees planted in the fields provide shade in the hot Rajasthani summer (and are perfect places to hang a net that provides even more shade). The trees lose all their leaves in winter to allow the sun to come through when needed. They also fix nitrogen in the soil. Ayesha is looking for recipes for delicious products to make with the healthy amla fruit, so let me know if you know of any!

A bicycle tire protects the bottom edge of this

 wicker stool (but it got put on a little late).

The amla trees were only the beginning of the interesting natural innovations that keep this farm functioning. Re-used bicycle tires find new lives holding together the walls in the cow shed and protecting the bottoms of wicker chairs. Planting nasturtiums, garlic, and marigolds keeps pests away from the lettuce. As we drank chai made with fresh milk from Ayesha's two cows and sweetened with honey from the hives on the farm, I found myself wishing there were some way we could help all India’s farmers build farms like this. Is there a way to make organic, biodynamic farming work on a large scale?

Although recent reports have shown frighteningly high levels of pesticides and chemicals on fruit and vegetables sold in Delhi, few people are currently willing to pay the extra cost of Ayesha’s organic products. But I think entrepreneurs like her play an important role by providing healthily grown crops to those who can and will pay—supporting organic and biodynamic farms where they do exist—and building greater awareness of and more demand for pesticide-free produce.

Surveying lettuce fields on the farm in Rajasthan.