Chinatown

The other night, walking home, I saw a Chinese man run down his steps, unlock his bicycle, and ride away into the darkness. He was heading for the river, carrying a fishing rod. A few days later, I read an article in the NYT about the explosion of underground fishmongers in Chinatown -- people selling a few fish, fresh caught from the East River, spread out on a towel in the street. Needless to say, this can't be good for you.

There's been such a flurry in the news about unregulated products from China these days. All kinds of toys, all kinds of food. The craziest thing of all, which appeared and disappeared almost unremarked upon, was that the Chinese government executed, yes, executed, as in put to death, Zheng Xiaoyu, the minister in charge of food & drug regulations. He'd been taking bribes and the quality of inspection had suffered. And so they shot him in the head.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/07/09/AR2007070900689_pf.html

Clearly, that extremely extreme response was a symptom of market panic, not a humanitarian act to protect those harmed by the products -- China needs the money from its exports, so people better buy them. People are less likely to buy them if they are laced with poison, no doubt.

Sadly, it makes you question everything you pass by on the bustling streets of Chinatown. Is the 50 cent bunch of cilantro soaked in pesticide? Are the comfy plastic slippers tainted with lead? I'd always shied away from the fish exposed to traffic fumes all day long, but the vegetables seemed fresh and, well, cheap. And who could resist those little yellow mangoes? But I'm getting off point.

What the flack from China did NOT seem to do, was raise questions about regulations here in the U.S. As if our economy isn't equally market driven, and as if our regulation of food (and toys) isn't powered by large corporate producers. You may have noticed the boom in organic products of all kinds -- not just vegetables, but everything from macaroni & cheese to marshmallow fluff. Now, come on. How transparent is this? Your kids shouldn't be exposed to pesticides, so let's make all their favorite foods available in an "organic" version, and charge their parents seven times the price.

http://tooniemoonie.com/joomla/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=4&Itemid=1

It makes you wonder -- what if the death penalty was an option in the United States for dealing in less-than-optimally regulated food? What if Annie, of Annie's organic mac & cheese, lied about what really lurked in her white powdery cheese envelope, and she was murdered by the state? What if some pesticide drifted across the fields to Mr. Dole's organic bananas -- and put him at risk of lethal injection?

On a less hypothetical note, take a look at this. Bush appointee Lester Crawford failed to disclose his stock options in an agriculture biotech company while heading up the FDA. And chaired the FDA's Obesity Working Group while owning (and lying about owning) snack food stock. How far is that from the crimes of Zheng Xiaoyu?

This far. In America, it merited three years probation.

How many trees...

One of my refuges here in New York is a thin green slice of park that runs along the island between the river and FDR Drive. Crickets chirp among the rose bushes, and morning glories scramble up the hurricane fence, awake before everyone else. Kids play soccer and baseball, and Chinese men and women do their exercises, facing east. I lie in the grass and look up at the bridge, arching silver against the sky. Across the water, the rusted cooling towers of the Domino Sugar factory glint amber in the sun.

The scene settles in like a photograph: blue sky, aging smokestacks, the geometry of steel. The picture of urbanity, with its layers of progress and decay. The perfect almost-autumn day. But its beauty has a dark side for me now. About four years ago, I developed an intolerance to common toxins. I can no longer ignore the fumes those smokestacks once produced, or the soot that falls from the well-traveled bridge. Chemical sensitivity makes you fear the things you used to love.

At the edge of the park is a construction site. Dumptrucks rumble past, a bulldozer clambers up a pile of earth like a slow, yellow dinosaur. Once, I could watch a building being built for hours. Now, I keep to the other end of the park, fearful that the dust in the air [PM10-- particulate matter less than 10 microns in diameter], will make me achy, dizzy and numb.

http://www.sustainablebuild.co.uk/PollutionFromConstruction.html

Factories were once pure adventure. I would sidestep a surprise blast of combustion, or jump a puddle of unknown oily sludge, admiring the rise of smokestacks and the tangle of pipes, amazed at the fact that these parts came together, Rube Goldberg-like, to create something, anything-- it didn't matter what. Now it matters.

http://www.brownstoner.com/brownstoner/archives/2007/09/toxically_chall.php

I grew up in a city of bridges. To me, they were steel sculptures, silhouetted against mountains or sky. But now, I cannot help consider the traffic that travels them-- and its exhaust.

http://asthmaregionalcouncil.org/about/documents/ComparingToxinsinTobaccoandCarExhaust.pdf

But here in my park, there is green all around me. Isn't it safe here? I have read that trees absorb exhaust, creating more oxygen for us to breathe. There's a barrier, three or four trees thick, between me, my picnic blanket and the highway. At least 25 trees. But is this tiny forest of bark-blasted plane trees enough? How many trees do we need?

After I little research, I learn that 17 trees, over their lifetime, absorb enough greenhouse gasses to balance one year's car exhaust emissions. Two mature trees produce enough oxygen for seven or eight people to breathe. But nearly a million cars enter Manhattan every day. And nearly two million people live here. Can these trees possibly take all that on?

http://www.environmentaldefense.org/documents/6117_AllChokedUp_NYCTrafficandHealthReport.pdf

http://www.oasisnyc.net/resources/street_trees/tree_value/mn.asp

I am afraid the cars are winning.