In these times, it does sound valid to say that breastmilk is still best for babies up to two years. I do not know of any time more apt to proclaim that nugget of wisdom other than today. You only have to listen to the news to know why. China was caught in a scandalous storm a few weeks ago after authorities have discovered that some of the milk products produced and distributed in the Chinese markets were contaminated with an ingredient feared for endangering the lives of lactating babies on feeding bottles. The culprit, they say, is melamine, an industrial chemical which should be the last and least thing in this world to find its way in infant formulas.
Back home, DTI Secretary Peter Favila has been making his rounds in local public markets. Apparently, his decision to personally visit and inspect dairy outlets and stores that sell milk products is a response to the paranoia stirred by the incidents back in China. The fact that some of our retailers in this country are vendors of milk in carton boxes and plastic containers and tetra packs with unmistakeable Chinese insignia on them is reason enough to raise suspicion and rethink our dairy purchases. Natural human instinct to steer away from things that would cause our demise and deprivation is most likely to engulf the most of our sensibilities.
Just a few days ago, we bought some bread at a local bakery. Letting my eyes wander around the small stall while waiting for our ensaymada to be handed over to us, one thing caught my attention: a laminated coupon bond with a full paragraph written on it, stating that the shop do not use milk products from China for their goods. It sought to extinguish any fear from their patrons as it hanged just in front of the cashier, visible enough for the buying customers to come across it as they line-up to pay. I dare not mention the name of the establishment. Suffice it to say, though, that it owes its name to that girl with golden locks of hair with the family of three bears nowhere in sight. And no, it isn't Little Red Riding Hood and the Three Hairy Bears.
Some have even suggested that this milk paranoia might soon take its toll on the masses, especially those who linger below the poverty lines, and even the ones deeply buried under it. One premise of the theory is that Chinese milk products in aluminum canisters or what have you are extremely cheap its ridiculous. But there's a catch, which brings us to another premise: in exchange for a lame price, the milk products either have already expired or have been contaminated with the dreaded chemical. Or probably both, which is the worse thing that could happen. Either way, our anorexic brethren who can't afford to buy the popular brands of milk are tempted to spend what little sum of earthly dimes they have on these inexpensive Chinese brands of milk just to nourish the frail bodies of their brood. With the current onslaught of melamine in the Chinese markets, and perhaps in stores closer to home, the destitute and impoverished Filipinos are in deep shit. That's the theory.
In practice, however, I find it hard to buy the lines of that thinking simply because of one thing: surprise, surprise, even the families sullied by their shortage in material wealth are hardly in a position to buy or bargain for milk, or whatever imaginable way there is to acquire that "complete food." You have a family of six children, perhaps more, waiting for a piece of meal to land on their empty plates and, hopefully, to fill the wide gap in their small intestines; you gaze inside your wallet that has also been inflicted by financial anorexia, and you have to wonder why you have to buy a cheap milk for one or two when there is a monumental need to feed a dozen skinny kids of your own. To cut the chase, why buy a container of milk which, for all you know, has death written all over it when you can buy something else, something which can stuff mouths to the brim or, at the least, enough for the tongue to savor for a fleeting moment? Like vegetables, assuming they don't grow a few in their backyards, and would have to take short foot sojourns to the wet market, which presupposes that they have a backyard in the first place, or that they can still walk.
In this side of the world, there's little chance you'll be seeing poverty-stricken families buy milk, let alone Chinese milk. Hell, they're already in deep shit they won't be committing harakiri soon enough by buying and drinking that poison. Unless, of course, they already want to punctuate their lives, losing hope faster than they can lose their last breath in this earth. Ours is an archipelago that grows poverty like a formidable and fruitful business. You only have to look at the government and think for some time to know why.
Other interesting bits of suspicion include the idea that America is out to wipe-out the population of communists by mixing toxic chemicals with Chinese dairy products, thereby nipping the young Chinese buds before they could grow a communist mind; the idea that the Chinese government is behind the milk mayhem, with the agenda of, what else, trimming their swollen population; the idea that the mad milkmen behind all these is spewing vengeance by forcing the competing brands to lower their prices, done with the magic of melamine, funneling the demand levels and pulling them to a grinding halt, right at the heart of a communist country where capitalists thrive and breed like rabbits.
I don't know if the Western slogan "got milk?" has anything to do with all these. Since that American tagline encourages the purchase of cow's milk, maybe it can ease the mass anxiety by substituting melamine for milk, or goth for got. By then, the phrase would either read "got melamine?" or "goth milk?" which, of course, doesn't make too much of a sense other than figuratively transforming the image of milk from good to bad, or better to worse. With that horrid impression, might awaken and realize that, alas, breast milk is still the best for babies up to two years, like what those old commercials say at the end.
Unfortunately, teenagers and adults can no longer feed on that bulky region of their mothers' chest. So there you go.
Back home, DTI Secretary Peter Favila has been making his rounds in local public markets. Apparently, his decision to personally visit and inspect dairy outlets and stores that sell milk products is a response to the paranoia stirred by the incidents back in China. The fact that some of our retailers in this country are vendors of milk in carton boxes and plastic containers and tetra packs with unmistakeable Chinese insignia on them is reason enough to raise suspicion and rethink our dairy purchases. Natural human instinct to steer away from things that would cause our demise and deprivation is most likely to engulf the most of our sensibilities.
Just a few days ago, we bought some bread at a local bakery. Letting my eyes wander around the small stall while waiting for our ensaymada to be handed over to us, one thing caught my attention: a laminated coupon bond with a full paragraph written on it, stating that the shop do not use milk products from China for their goods. It sought to extinguish any fear from their patrons as it hanged just in front of the cashier, visible enough for the buying customers to come across it as they line-up to pay. I dare not mention the name of the establishment. Suffice it to say, though, that it owes its name to that girl with golden locks of hair with the family of three bears nowhere in sight. And no, it isn't Little Red Riding Hood and the Three Hairy Bears.
Some have even suggested that this milk paranoia might soon take its toll on the masses, especially those who linger below the poverty lines, and even the ones deeply buried under it. One premise of the theory is that Chinese milk products in aluminum canisters or what have you are extremely cheap its ridiculous. But there's a catch, which brings us to another premise: in exchange for a lame price, the milk products either have already expired or have been contaminated with the dreaded chemical. Or probably both, which is the worse thing that could happen. Either way, our anorexic brethren who can't afford to buy the popular brands of milk are tempted to spend what little sum of earthly dimes they have on these inexpensive Chinese brands of milk just to nourish the frail bodies of their brood. With the current onslaught of melamine in the Chinese markets, and perhaps in stores closer to home, the destitute and impoverished Filipinos are in deep shit. That's the theory.
In practice, however, I find it hard to buy the lines of that thinking simply because of one thing: surprise, surprise, even the families sullied by their shortage in material wealth are hardly in a position to buy or bargain for milk, or whatever imaginable way there is to acquire that "complete food." You have a family of six children, perhaps more, waiting for a piece of meal to land on their empty plates and, hopefully, to fill the wide gap in their small intestines; you gaze inside your wallet that has also been inflicted by financial anorexia, and you have to wonder why you have to buy a cheap milk for one or two when there is a monumental need to feed a dozen skinny kids of your own. To cut the chase, why buy a container of milk which, for all you know, has death written all over it when you can buy something else, something which can stuff mouths to the brim or, at the least, enough for the tongue to savor for a fleeting moment? Like vegetables, assuming they don't grow a few in their backyards, and would have to take short foot sojourns to the wet market, which presupposes that they have a backyard in the first place, or that they can still walk.
In this side of the world, there's little chance you'll be seeing poverty-stricken families buy milk, let alone Chinese milk. Hell, they're already in deep shit they won't be committing harakiri soon enough by buying and drinking that poison. Unless, of course, they already want to punctuate their lives, losing hope faster than they can lose their last breath in this earth. Ours is an archipelago that grows poverty like a formidable and fruitful business. You only have to look at the government and think for some time to know why.
Other interesting bits of suspicion include the idea that America is out to wipe-out the population of communists by mixing toxic chemicals with Chinese dairy products, thereby nipping the young Chinese buds before they could grow a communist mind; the idea that the Chinese government is behind the milk mayhem, with the agenda of, what else, trimming their swollen population; the idea that the mad milkmen behind all these is spewing vengeance by forcing the competing brands to lower their prices, done with the magic of melamine, funneling the demand levels and pulling them to a grinding halt, right at the heart of a communist country where capitalists thrive and breed like rabbits.
I don't know if the Western slogan "got milk?" has anything to do with all these. Since that American tagline encourages the purchase of cow's milk, maybe it can ease the mass anxiety by substituting melamine for milk, or goth for got. By then, the phrase would either read "got melamine?" or "goth milk?" which, of course, doesn't make too much of a sense other than figuratively transforming the image of milk from good to bad, or better to worse. With that horrid impression, might awaken and realize that, alas, breast milk is still the best for babies up to two years, like what those old commercials say at the end.
Unfortunately, teenagers and adults can no longer feed on that bulky region of their mothers' chest. So there you go.
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