“Traditional Oaxacan food has been exotified by the international community, but holds diminishing value among young locals. As the sons and daughters of our farmers lose interest in our traditional produce, we abandon our history, our roots and our health.” -Abigail Mendoza, Owner of Tlamanalli Restaurant, Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca
Introduction
In addition to the many farmers I had the opportunity to interview over the course of the summer, I also spoke with chefs and activists in the region who promote traditional food practices,
including production and consumption. Among those I interviewed, there was a sense of concern that traditional consumption practices are being lost and devalued when competing with imports from the United States and northern Mexico. Interviews from the previous chapter drew attention to the shift in availability of imported goods in villages in the Central Valleys of Oaxaca and how the children of farmers increasingly prefer processed foods. This chapter will examine the greater implications to health and culture that come as a result of the abandonment of subsistence farming. This examination will be done through interview analysis of food experts from the Central Valleys as well as a review of public health reports and analysis of the prevalence of processed food in these communities.
Interviews with Restaurant Owners
Abigail Mendoza, Teotitlán del Valle
I spoke with Abigail Mendoza, chef and owner at the restaurant Tlamanalli, located in the village of Teotitlán del Valle about thirty minutes outside of Oaxaca City. She gained international notoriety after preparing a meal for Anthony Bourdain on his show, Parts Unknown. Drawing on
drinks and main dishes. Much of the corn served in the restaurant comes from fields surrounding Teotitlán of which the varieties are based on the farmers’ preference, the location of their fields, and the seeds they save. Recently, however, less corn has been available at the local Sunday market, and ingredients are instead purchased at the central market in the city of Oaxaca. When I asked Abigail why there is a change in availability, she drew the connection to an unreliable rain season. Not having consistent rain during the wet season has restricted the availability of certain types of corn specially adapted to each region.
In spite of the obvious challenges to farmers posed by climate change, Abigail explained that the primary culprit of the loss of corn varieties is the parents of children who are no longer interested in traditional growing and cooking. She has noticed that within the community of Teotitlán, families purchase more foods from the mini markets which can be found on almost every street even in more isolated communities in the region. As more imported food becomes available and accessible in the mini-markets, the less interest there is in producing food for personal consumption. Abigail says she is disappointed that mothers aren’t teaching their girls how to carry out the traditional preparation of tortillas, salsas and main dishes. She also remarked on the increasing presence of meat in the local diet. While it once occupied only a small section of the plate, and was picked up fresh when available, it now can be found in abundance in the town market and mini stores. Abigail believes the quality of meat has degraded significantly the more it has become available.
While Abigail laments the loss of culture that comes as a result of fewer corn varieties available and traditional foods cooked in community households, she appeared equally concerned with the rise in obesity around Teotitlán. As a child, she worked her father’s fields
which inspired her to open Tlamanalli, but the young people she interacts with now are much less interested in working with their parents to grow produce.
Abigail does not complain without taking actionable steps to address her concerns. Over the past year, she has started a woman’s and daughter’s social group in attempt to restore value to the traditional diet of the region. There are various workshops and competitions throughout the years that teach young women how to cook using local ingredients and to encourage them to partake in this tradition at home. Abigail also teaches the importance of food in preserving Zapotec traditions. During her cooking lessons, she brings in Zapotec vocabulary and speaks about the origins their community.
I would be remiss not to take note of a final observation I made while dining at the Tlamanalli restaurant. Despite the wholesome and healthy options available on the menu, Coca Cola, both diet and regular, were available for purchase. They were the cheapest beverage item at about $2 USD, falling below tamarind or hibiscus juice. The contents of high fructose corn syrup in Coke products exemplifies the depth to which the globalization of processed foods has
penetrated Mexico’s rural countryside even for those actively avoiding it. Carina Montaño, Tierra Antigua
Carina Montaño owns and operates restaurant Tierra Antigua with her husband which prepares Zapotec cuisine in Teotitlán. She echoed many of the observations of Abigail Mendoza on the change in diet being rooted in a lack of consistent rains as well as parents not teaching their children the traditional preparation and cultivation of their food. As a Zapotec woman, Carina is saddened by the replacement of corn that she was raised growing and consuming, including the colorful tortillas and flavorsome atole drink of corn meal, water, sugar, vanilla and chocolate. For many elder members of the community “corn is everything,” their livelihood and diet are
fully reliant on this basic ingredient. While she and her husband still grow a milpa and raised their children on traditional Zapotec cuisine, they are concerned that these traditions will die with their children who work outside of the community earning a higher income than the sale of their crops would provide.
Carina’s father still works his land parcel at age 85, speaks only a Zapotec dialect and refuses to eat any of the processed foods found in the community mini-markets. According to Carina, he has no health problems, which seemed like an accurate assessment after she
introduced us. He attributes his good health to working in the fields everyday, eating only what he is able to grow himself, breathing fresh air and having a fulfilling life. He cares for his crops; corn, beans, and squash, with patience, love, and appreciation, acknowledging the gifts he receives from the earth. He suggested disappointment in the ways that others have come to view his labor as pointless. People can purchase their food today in one of the several mini-markets in town instead of going through the growing process. But he, like many community elders believes that there is significant intrinsic value in growing their own food, and as increasing numbers of young people lose their relationship to food and its origins, there is a risk of losing, or
abandoning their identity.
Observations on Consumption
Among the communities I visited, there were always at least two mini-tiendas (mini-markets) found both in the main plaza and more on residential streets. All of the stores that I visited were about 25 by 15ft, with brightly colored advertisements plastered on the windows with cartoons promoting Danon yoghurts and Sabritas (Mexico’s Lays chips). There was usually a few fruits or vegetables for purchase sitting on the counter, some avocados, onions, tomatoes, chilies and eggs. There was often a string of chorizo hung up somewhere, and cheese and ham for purchase
from a refrigerator. Racks of various chips and crackers cover the walls, and there are two or three larger refrigerators carrying a variety of sodas and energy drinks. Candies and cookies occupy a large section alongside boxed, unrefrigerated milk, Lechera (sweetened condensed milk), canned vegetables and always a big sponsored stand of Bimbo wheat products such as sliced bread, toast and doughnuts.
I asked a couple of store owners why there were so few produce options available, and all responded that it wasn’t lucrative to travel to a market to pick up fruit to sell because customers would complain that it’s too expensive as it would include the travel cost of picking up the products. Carrying produce is also not lucrative since there is a fairly small window between when fruits and vegetables are purchased and when they become overripe. Many families that own stores have done so for a while, and their income from sales has led them to let their land lay fallow. The stores are not usually the principle location for the week’s shopping, more often than not it is school children that pop in after class to grab some chips or soda. While many families in the Central Valleys still rely on what they produce as their main source of nutrients, purchases of oils, meats, bread and other snacks often supplement home grown ingredients.
I made further observations of consumption practices during my afternoons spent harvesting amaranth with farmers whom I interviewed. Harvest volunteers, mostly from nearby
and juice. The three times that I was invited for this lunch, I was surprised to find their contents to consist of white Bimbo bread (think Wonder Bread from the United States), processed ham from the mini-tienda, canned chile peppers, and a slathering of mayonnaise. This was
accompanied by agua de Jamaica (hibiscus juice) which is grown throughout southern Mexico. The juice we drank, however, was from a flavored powder with additional sugar added by our host. As I was a last minute addition to the volunteer crews, it seemed unlikely that this meal was catered for the lone gringa volunteer. One of the families with whom I shared a meal like this had a daughter and granddaughter eat with us, whom the parents casually scolded for eating too much and being overweight. The presence of processed and imported food even in the kitchens of farmers who grow their own produce demonstrates the profound role that globalization plays in these kitchens.
Health Outcomes Associated with Diet Change
A cross-case analysis of obesity rates in residential communities in Oaxaca from 1968- 2000, demonstrates the rapid rise of obesity in rural agricultural towns (Malina et. Al 2007, 717). Measurements taken in 1968 found that 7% of men and 14% of women were overweight, while 46% of men and 47% of women were measured as overweight in the early 2000s. While the study notes that the main diets of these populations did not change dramatically between the years of the study, with staples consisting of beans, corn, and chilies, there was a rise in animal product consumption including dairy, beef and eggs (Malina et. Al 2007, 717). The largest change in consumptive habits of community members was their consumption of Coca Cola, with 36% of households consuming it for lunch, and interestingly, 14% of households consuming it for breakfast in the 2000s (Malina et al. 2007, 717). Additional contributors to the the weight rise among community members was attributed the change in physical activity. The 1968 survey
found that 90% of men were farming, while in 2000, the percentage was closer to 60% with many farming only part-time to supplement their income from construction work, artisanal activities, street vending etc. (Malina et al 2007, 719). This effected the physical activity of family members as well who had always been involved in the farming process, with woman and daughters’ roles being more cooking-oriented while sons worked the fields with their fathers. Now that parents are less active in the fields, so too are their children and this physical activity has yet to ben replaced.
In her analysis of local burdens of globalization on diet and health in Mexico, cultural anthropologist Alyshia Gálvez also draws the connection between the introduction of hyper- processed foods and more sedentary jobs (2018, 13). According to Gálvez, the ability to consume foreign and/or processed imports and work a non-manual labor job are hailed as positive developments in many Mexican communities. This speaks to the urban sentiment that promotes development at all costs and that has often viewed indigenous and/or rural lifestyles as backwards, citing specifically the high rates of hunger determined by a reliance on farmed produce for nutrition. Yet, when people from rural areas arrive in urban spaces their consumptive practices remain unbalanced, this time with the inability to procure sufficient nutritious food and having to rely on foods with high caloric and sugar content. Gálvez notes that over the past five years, instant noodles have become the most widely purchased product in Mexico. The trend, she notes, is generally reflective of the growing reliance on convenient food preparation in urban food landscape in Mexican cities (2018, 5).
An increase in diet-related disease resulting from rural to urban migration after several years of settlement, referred to as the “immigrant health paradox,” is often used in relation to US-Mexico movement. (Gálvez 2018, 163). As access to produce markets and traditional diets
become more restricted, and work schedules allow for less time to prepare foods, especially among those working more than one job, consumption practices are simplified. Foods that can be prepared quickly and at low-cost takes hold over previous diets, favoring items such as
sandwiches, instant noodles, fast food, processed meats, sodas etc. No longer restricted to cross- border migration, however, this trend is, also visible within states or regions in Mexico.
Furthermore, one no longer has to leave their communities in order to experience more sedentary jobs and more speedily-prepared foods. In the Central Valleys of Oaxaca, this immigrant
paradox occurs at all three levels. Among migrants who experience negative health outcomes in the long term, issues of mental health and well-being have also become understood as affecting chronic weight-related illness (Galvez 2018, 163).
What has further affected health outcomes of families and individuals living in rural agricultural communities in Mexico, as I came to learn in the Central Valleys, is access to cash remittances from family members who have migrated. It should be noted that the processed foods found in mini-tiendas are not cheaper than produce from the market. In fact, it is the opposite; processed foods have in many ways become as status symbol, mostly accessible to families who have access to cash from either children working jobs outside of the community, or family members sending remittances from the US. This extra cash flow allows for families to purchase more processed foods, including snacks between meals, sodas, candy etc. So according to Gálvez, and my own observations among wealthier community members (defined by those receiving cash from other family members), the greater access to capital a family has in agricultural communities, the more likely their children are to be overweight and/or obese (Gálvez 2018, 166).
The following map sheds light on the profusion of mini-markets in the Central Valleys. The map highlights the density of agricultural production throughout the state of Oaxaca, denoted by the shade of green as well as establishments across all regions of Oaxaca. Data was taken from the Mexican National Institute of Statistics and Geography and does not contain complete information about the amount of mini-tiendas, though it does highlight where the highest concentrations of establishments are located. The presence or lack of mini-tiendas in communities is correlated with additional defining features of communities such as
transportation, infrastructure and presence of indigenous populations. However, the visualization of varied establishment presence is still helpful for understanding the layout of the state.
Controversy of the Mini-Tienda
Mini-tiendas are present both in Oaxaca’s Central Valleys region as well as throughout greater rural Mexico. They often appear out of place, loaded with plastic packaging that stands in contrast with the taco and tamale stalls run by woman in the town squares. Yet without access to stores like this, many community members’ food access would be fully reliant on the success of their harvest fluctuates significantly with the changing climate. In spite of farmers’ reliance on mini-tiendas to supplement their own produce, the prices do not reflect their income. Packages of chips and sodas are more representative of US prices, with a standard 20fl oz. plastic bottle of coca cola, an individual package of chips, or a can of beans costing about $.85 USD.
The function of mini-tiendas has changed in the last decade. While initially carrying a variety of packaged foods from northern Mexico in addition to local produce and homemade treats such as gelatins or cut fruit, more recently the trend has been to reduce the non-processed contents of the store. In interviews with owners of mini-tiendas, Gálvez learns that this
phenomenon has taken place largely as a result of the ease of fully switching to processed foods. This has occurred as international food corporations such as Pepsi, Coca Cola and Bimbo have begun offering delivery schemes that provide refrigeration and storage for their products in exchange for working exclusively with their company (Gálvez 2018, 91). This is an attractive option for shop owners as they are able to preserve the food for longer, and it streamlines the process for their food procurement.
Paradox of Traditional Mexican Food
In her report on the industrialization of food in Mexico, Alyshia Gálvez remarks on how Americans and Europeans have become intrigued by the concept of indigenous foods from Mexico, especially related to the colored tortilla (2018, 11). At the same time, many Mexicans
from the communities in which these recipes come from are shifting away from traditional diets, towards consumption patterns that reflect the American diet. Restaurants in Europe and the United States, such as Cosme, owned by the famed chef Enrique Olvera, are able to charge hundreds of dollars for tasting menus of indigenous staples including tamales, tortillas and mole. Yet in the communities where these traditions originate, corn varieties are being lost as the sons and daughters of farmers do not continue using their parents’ seeds, and wheat creeps into most diets, replacing maize as the principal starch.
Replacing corn with wheat dates to an attitude that arose during Mexico’s industrial revolution in the early 20th century when, some thought, corn holds indigenous communities back from further development. Wheat, on the other hand, embodied the cuisine of westernized countries that were engaging in rapid development. Wheat was equated with higher energy levels whereas corn represented the hunger and high mortality that often plagued indigenous
communities (Bértran 2010, 387). In post-revolutionary Mexico, an epoch that was supposed to