(from an upcoming issue of
Daegu Compass)
After hearing that I’ve been here for
five years, Koreans often ask me what it is that I miss most about
the USA. My family? My friends? My house? My mother tongue? The
food? All good guesses, and I’d hate to try to say which one sits
at the top of my list. But there’s something else that nobody ever
seems to consider: being able to give back to my society as much as I
take from it. In a word, responsibility.
It’s nearly impossible for foreigners
here to take an active role in standing up for our beliefs, in
working to make the city we live in a better place. I’ve heard
about and met so many people who were vegetarians, foodies,
activists, or volunteers back home, who have been reduced to
earner/consumers, not through any particular fault of their own, but
simply because it’s so difficult to be anything else here. We
can’t vote, and even if we could, how would we have any idea who to
vote for? We don’t have the freedom to remodel our homes to make
them more energy efficient. We have a tough time searching out and
participating in meaningful volunteer opportunities. And, even at
our schools and hagwons, where we all see a million things we’d
like to fix, we’re often next to powerless. It almost seems like
the best we can hope to do is take shorter showers and turn off the
lights when we leave the room.
There is one thing we can do, though,
that’s just as easy here as it was back home, one instance in which
it doesn’t matter that you look and speak different from just about
everyone else. I’m talking about shopping. If you’re one of
those who have decided to put their idealism on hold, I want to let
you know that there’s no need to do so. Your cash here is just as
good as anyone else’s, and there are tons of ways to put it to good
use.
Personally, I’m into food. Food is at
the nexus of so many crucial issues, from environmental degradation
to women’s rights, from individual health to social justice, from
the slow death of rural communities to the explosion of cities and
the expansion of corporations. Name a social or political problem –
I guarantee you that someway, somehow, food links in. And, because
we all eat three or more times a day, we have thousands of
opportunities a year to make our dollars (yeah, ok, not dollars, but
whatever) count.
One of the single best things you can
do for your health, for society’s, and for the planet’s, is to
support local, organic farmers as much as possible. This cuts down
on fertilizer in the water, reduces the amount of pesticide in your
food, decreases the amount of fossil fuel used to bring your food to
your plate, tends to keep farms small and diversified, and leaves all
the plants and animals involved – including us! – safer and
stronger.
Or, at least, so one hopes. It all
depends on what the word “organic” means. I thought I pretty much
knew the answer, but in order to get a little more clarity, I decided
to talk to someone a bit more informed. So, on a recent trip to Sweet
Persimmon Village in Changwon, Gyeongsangbukdo, where I occasionally
volunteer by picking persimmons or teaching kids how to sow and
harvest potatoes and rice, I sat down for a chat with Mr. Gang
Chang-guk (강창국). Mr. Gang’s
family has been farming persimmons for several generations, and Mr.
Gang himself graduated with an MS in Agricultural Science from Seoul
National University. He has been studying and experimenting with
organic agriculture for years, and his farm produces persimmons at
each level of certification, in addition to rice, watermelons,
strawberries, and all the food that he and his family need for the
year. He pulled out a bunch of documents and we went through them
together. Here’s what I learned:
Various public and private groups are
authorized to grant certifications to farmers; no matter which one
the farmer chooses to go through, though, all certifications in Korea
share some basic ground rules, laid out by the National Agricultural
Products Management Service (NAQS). First of all, farmers who apply
for certifications of any type have to be willing to open their farm
to inspectors at any time, and have to have produce samples inspected
before sale. Second, they must only use government-approved
varieties of low-impact fertilizers and pesticides, always keeping on
hand detailed information about which and how much. Third, they have
to keep detailed records of their yields and who they sell their
produce to. Fourth, they must demonstrate a constant yearly decline
in the amount of pollutants in the soil and water at their farms.
Fifth, they may not make use of any GMO seeds. Finally, there are some other non-binding
standards that farmers are expected to work towards. They are
encouraged to rotate crops, to plant beans and clover to restore the
health of the soil, to refrain from treating their products with
x-rays, and to take care with their own natural fertilizers and
pesticides so as not to disturb farmers nearby. All of these rules make for healthy soil, plants, animals, people, and communities.
The lowest-level certification is
“저농약농산물.” Jeo is
Chinese for low, while nong, yak, nong, san, and
mul mean “farm,”
“medicine/poison,” “farm,” “production,” and “stuff,”
respectively. Produce carrying this Low-Pesticide Produce
certification
has been grown with less than half
the chemical fertilizer
used on standard farms
has
been sprayed with pesticide less than half as
frequently as standard produce (at
regulated doses)
has
been grown without weedkiller; pesticide is applied only
to the produce itself
has
had its final pesticide treatment more than twice as far away from
the harvest dates as the minimum required by law.
The mid-level certification is
“
무농약농산물,” where
Mu
means “none.” Produce
bearing this Pesticide-Free
Produce certification
meets or
exceeds all the criteria for the Low-Pesticide Produce
certification
has been
grown without any chemical pesticides at all
has
been grown with less than one third
the chemical fertilizer of standard produce
This certification, when applied to
animals, is called “무항생제축산물,”
where Hang means “combat,”
saeng means “life,”
je means “drug”,
and chuk means “animal.” Meat, eggs, and
dairy with this certification come from animals that have been given
feed without added antibiotics or antimicrobials.
The highest-level certification is
“유기농농산물,” in which
Yugi means “organic.”
Organic produce:
meets all the
standards for Low-Pesticide and Pesticide-Free produce
certifications, plus
has been
grown without any chemical fertilizers or pesticides for a minimum
of two years for annual plants and three years for perennial ones
Meat
that has been certified organic is called “유기농축산물”
and, in addition being
antibiotic-free, has been given feed that itself meets the criteria
for organic certification.
When you’re shopping, keep an eye out
for these emblems They’re usually placed prominently on
the front of packages, and, ideally, will have some information just
underneath about who certified the product and precisely what
certifications it lives up to. NAQS-certified products are available
in all of the Local/Organic specialty shops around Daegu, as well as
in most mid- and large-size supermarkets. Isn’t it fantastic that
you can support organic farmers, and all that they stand for, simply
by buying and preparing whole, healthy, delicious food? Chow down.
For information about Daegu stores
specializing in eco-friendly produce, to receive weekly or monthly
organic produce deliveries, or for more on other ways of making a
greener Daegu, check out the group Daegu Green Living on Facebook or
visit our blog at
http://noksaeksari.blogspot.com.
Most of the official information quoted above is available at the
English version of the NAQS website,
http://naqs.go.kr/english.
