My earlier two posts on food garnered a huge response. I am bit surprised because I thought that I was giving out obvious facts and information. In this article, I will delve into the red rice not only for its nutritional value but also for its broader sociological and national importance.
The red rice
In terms of nutrients and minerals, red rice is way ahead of white rice. Among others, it is rich in antioxidant called anthocyanins, which gives it the red colour. Now antioxidants are important because our body produces toxic materials such as free radicals. Free radicals causes, among many serious health conditions, the most dreaded cancer, while also altering our DNA. So eating red rice could help in reducing such risks. Red rice is also a source of magnesium, which our body loses and we need to replenish. Magnesium helps in preventing migraine, blood pressure, muscle spasm and cardiac arrests. Magnesium also regulates the calcium in maintaining healthy bones and teeth, and prevents risks of arthritis and osteoporosis. Red rice has more fibre and so it goes easy with our digestive system. Eating red rice, therefore, is much healthier as compared to eating white rice or puri-roti.
However, our rice production, and red rice in particular, is under threat from rapid urbanisation. Farmlands are going away at an exponential rate. In the best case scenario, we will still be producing, but a decreased quantity of red rice that will make this important resources inaccessible to the mass. Isn’t this bit crazy? Now against this background, it is imperative that our paddy fields in Paro, Punakha and Wangdue, the heartlands of red rice, are protected against so-called urban development.
Protecting our farmlands
Now one might think of private owners as the defaulters when we talk of uncontrolled development. Well, that’s not always the case. In fact the biggest defaulter has been the government. Just look at Changjiji in Thimphu where thousands of acres of farmland were turned into public housing. Was it not possible to build those on the slopes above Samizingkha? Similar destructions were happened in Khuruthang (Punakha) and Bajothang (Wangdue). That may be in the past. Gone. But there is now an attempt to repeat the same blunder in Paro where a large area in Hungrel Gewog (the area in the picture) is declared as Thromde. Was there a real need or a political greeds here?
My own village, Pam, in Tashigang and my land in Rangjung went down to this urbanisation madness. My poor aunt was enticed by promising higher price for the land, unrestricted loan from the banks and water, drainage, bright street lights if our village became part of the township. “Merbu nangka rang cholay mo?” (do you want to stay in darkness?) was the argument given by the proponents from Dzongkhag administration.
How many valleys and villages do we want to destroy in the name of development? Is this development by any definition? What do we eat if we replace the rice fields with concrete jungles? Cement? Japan has 130 million people but since 1952, not an inch of paddy field has gone into so-called development. Rice fields are protected by law. Ours is protected too but it seems in Bhutan the government is above the law, which is weird. If the intent is to protect rice production, whether the defaulter is government or private, the damage is the same. In China, some farmlands in Yunan and Sichuam are protected as national heritage sites. Shouldn’t we too? Protect Paro and Punakha as natural-national heritage sites?
The sociology of rice farming
Loss of paddy fields will not only affect the production and the price. There is far greater consequences to these unscrupulous actions.
Asian societies are celebrated for cohesiveness, community and collectivism where we are all live, work and grow old together. There is a growing acceptance among sociologists that one factor that influenced our collective mindset is our culture of rice growing. Rice farming requires many hands to come together during plantation as well as in harvesting. This forces people to be in social harmony and avoid conflicts and confrontations – as far as possible. By and large, communities stick with one another – because of this interdependence nature of life.
Now imagine if all farmlands are gone. Not only we would suffer from food shortage, the essence of being Bhutanese, where life revolves around the concepts of mutual trust and dependence is gone. In any case how much can we depend on the cheap unhealthy imports?
If we lose our sense of community, we will become like any other western nation – individualistic, capitalistic and profit-oriented where human relations will be purely transactional – and where every man is for himself.
I am not sure this is what we want. Or what GNH stands for.