Scrambled eggs from two eggs with Lithuanian bread for breakfast every day? What?

 

"THE FRENCH eat foie gras, the Icelandic devour hakarl (fermented fish with an aroma of urine), Americans give thanks by baking tinned pumpkin in a pie. The range of human foods is not just a source of epicurean joy but a reflection of ecological and anthropological variety--the consequence of tens of thousands of years of parallel yet independent cultural evolution.

And yet, as choice has proliferated in other ways, diets have been squeezed and standardised. Even Parisians eventually let Starbucks onto their boulevards. Dan Saladino, a food journalist at the BBC, reminds readers of what stands to be lost. In "Eating to Extinction" he travels far and wide to find "the world's rarest foods". These include the murnong, "a radish-like root with a crisp bite and the taste of sweet coconut"; for millennia it was a primary food for Australia's Aboriginals, before almost vanishing. The unpasteurised version of English Stilton, meanwhile, was salvaged from hygiene rules by an American enthusiast who renamed it Stichelton.

The book's overarching theme is the rapid decline in the diversity of human foods over the past century.

 

Inside the stomach of a man who died 2,500 years ago, and whose body was preserved when it sank into a Danish peat bog, researchers found the remains of his last meal: "a porridge made with barley, flax and the seeds of 40 different plants".

 

In east Africa, the Hadza, one of the last remaining hunter-gatherer tribes, "eat from a potential wild menu that consists of more than 800 plant and animal species". By contrast, most humans now get 75% of their calorie intake from just eight foods: rice, wheat, maize, potatoes, barley, palm oil, soya and sugar.

Even within each of those food groups there is homogenisation. Decades of selective breeding and the pressures of global food markets mean that farms everywhere grow the same varieties of cereals and raise the same breeds of livestock.

Why should anyone care about having 25 varieties of wheat when a single one can be optimised to produce more grain, in more reliable fashion and with a guarantee of the same taste, year after year? For the same reason that fund managers seek to diversify their assets. In an ever-changing world, diversity is an insurance policy. The pressures of climate change and rapidly spreading diseases make that insurance all the more important.

The unhappy fate of the Large White pig is a case in point. Picture the quintessential farmed swine--pink, long-bodied, almost cartoonlike--and you will probably be imagining a Large White. Originating in England in the 19th century, the Large White quickly put on weight (ie, meat) and could be kept inside or out. From England, it was exported to Europe, Australia, Argentina, Canada, Russia, America and China. Today, it fills the world's biggest industrial pig farms.

But in the past few years African swine fever has swept through such farms, from China to South-East Asia, Mongolia and India. By summer 2020 it had reached Europe--and may have killed nearly half of China's pigs and a quarter of the world's. Homogeneity made the planet's piggy population a pathogen's playground.

Such stories remind readers of the stakes, but the real delicacies in Mr Saladino's book are its tales of people who have tried to resist the shrinkage of diets, sometimes heroically. Nikolai Vavilov, for example, founded the world's first seed bank, in Leningrad (now St Petersburg). He and his disciples gathered more than 150,000 seed samples before he was sent to a prison camp under Stalin. In 1943 Vavilov "was claimed by the very thing he had spent his life working to prevent: starvation".

His seed collection, however, lives on thanks to the immense sacrifice of the conservationists he inspired. Under siege by the Nazis, and with Vavilov stuck in prison, they moved hundreds of boxes to a freezing basement and took turns standing guard over their trove of genetic diversity. "By the end of the 900-day siege", writes Mr Saladino, "nine of them had died of starvation." Among them was the curator of the rice collection, found dead "at his desk, surrounded by bags of rice".

Mr Saladino offers many wonderful vignettes of indigenous food cultures. The most enchanting involves the symbiosis between the Hadza and a feathered collaborator, which evolved over thousands of years. He witnesses an elaborate singalong between his host and a small black-and-white bird--and realises that the exchange is guiding his party to a baobab tree, at the top of which is a honeybee hive. The bird can find the nest, but "can't get to the wax it wants to eat without being stung to death". For their part, the humans "struggle to find the nest but armed with smoke can pacify the bees".

Later that day, Mr Saladino's group arrives at an isolated hut beside a well. Inside are branded biscuits and sugary pop--tokens of a global food industry that continues its relentless march.

Eating to Extinction.

By Dan Saladino." [1]

·  ·  · 1.  "Refined tastes; Rare foods." The Economist, 23 Oct. 2021, p. 76(US).

Ukraina niekada neišsikapstys iš krizės - Lietuva be reikalo švaisto resursus, paremdama Ukrainą

 

„Vladimiro Putino dujų diplomatija kelia siaubą ukrainiečiams.

 

    Kai ledinis vėjas barškina jo biuro langus, Sergejus Šapkinas panardina sausainį į medų ir apmąsto išgyvenimo meną. Jis yra Rytų Ukrainos kaimo Pavlopilo meras. Kai 2014 metų vasarį prasidėjo pilietinis karas, ponas Šapkinas žinojo, kad jo kaimui gresia pavojus. Vienoje pusėje buvo prorusiški separatistai, apginkluoti Kremliaus. Kitoje pusėje, buvo Ukrainos nacionalistų - maištininkų pajėgos. Jei jie kovotų dėl Pavlopilo, kaimiečiai žūtų.

 

    Taigi ponas Shapkinas, dėvintis megztinį,  kalbėjosi su vyrais su ginklais. Jo kaimas neturėjo jokios strateginės vertės, tačiau jame buvo parduotuvių. Jis pasiūlė separatistams ryte įeiti neginkluotiems ir pėsčiomis nusipirkti maisto ir cigarečių. Tą patį Ukrainos kariuomenė galėtų padaryti kiekvieną popietę. Tokiu būdu jie nesusidurtų vieni su kitaia ir nepradėtų šaudyti. Tai pavyko-Pavlopilyje nebuvo kovų, o vietiniai liko gyvi, išskyrus tuos, kurių traktorius atsitrenkė į miną.

 

    Nuo 2014 m. rugsėjo mėnesio paliaubos atėjo ir praėjo, o atsitiktiniai šaudymai tęsiasi Rytų Ukrainoje. Spalio 12 d., ES ir Ukrainos aukščiausiojo lygio susitikimo Kijeve dieną, stebėtojai suskaičiavo beveik 300 paliaubų pažeidimų, įskaitant 77 sprogimus. „Kiekvienas turi slėptuvę“, - sako ponas Šapkinas. "Visi esame pasiruošę su žvakėmis, plaktukais ir deglais. Ir mes visi turime supakuotus krepšius, jei netikėtai turėtume pajudėti."

 

    Dabar, artėjant žiemai, ukrainiečiams kyla dar vienas rūpestis: kad Rusija vėl išjungs dujas.

 

    2009 m. ji dviem savaitėms nutraukė dujų srautą per Ukrainą. Tai Rusijai kainavo daug, nes jos dujos turi praeiti per Ukrainą, kad pasiektų klientus Europoje. Tačiau netrukus ji gali pumpuoti dujas į Vokietiją nauju dujotiekiu „Nord Stream 2“, kuris aplenks Ukrainą. Kai jis bus atidarytas-o tai gali įvykti netrukus, nors ir susidurs su teisiniais ir diplomatiniais iššūkiais-V. Putinas galės beveik savo noru nutraukti tiekimą Ukrainai.

 

    Techniškai Ukraina dujas perka ne tiesiogiai iš Rusijos, bet iš tolesnių šalių, tokių, kaip Vengrija. Tiesą sakant, ji ima rusiškas dujas rytuose ir toliau perduoda savo dujas, kurios gaminamos Ukrainos vakaruose. Taigi, jei srautas per Ukrainą sustotų, šalies rytai patektų į bėdą. „Mes esame dujų įkaitai“, - sako 25 km į pietus nuo Pavlopilo esančio uostamiesčio Mariupolio meras Vadimas Boičenko.

 

    Spalio 12 d. Kijeve Europos Komisijos pirmininkė Ursula von der Leyen patikino ukrainiečius, kad Europa apsaugos jų energetinę nepriklausomybę. Jie nėra nuraminti.

 

 

    Prezidentas Volodymyras Zelenskis ieško prieglobsčio savo šaliai NATO ir ES viduje. Bet tai neveikia. NATO narės nenori išplėsti savo principo „ataka prieš vieną yra išpuolis prieš visus“  šaliai, kurią Rusija jau užpuolė. Ir ES turi pakankamai sunkumų, integruodama korumpuotas buvusias komunistines valstybes, tokias, kaip Vengrija, todėl neįsileisdama didesnės, kaip Ukraina.

     

 

    Pasitikėjimo trūksta iš abiejų pusių. Pirmasis J. Zelenskio geopolitikos skonis buvo tada, kai prezidentas Donaldas Trumpas paragino jį tiekti kompromatą apie Joe Bideno sūnų, su užslėpta grėsme, kad nuo to gali priklausyti Amerikos parama Ukrainos saugumui. Ukrainos požiūriu, prezidentas Bidenas nebuvo daug geresnis. Siekdamas įtvirtinti santykius su Vokietija, gegužę jis atsisakė sankcijų, kurios galėjo užblokuoti „Nord Stream 2“.

    

 

    Vakarai norėtų paremti reformą Ukrainoje, tačiau tai nėra lengva. Korupcija yra gausi. Oligarchai dominuoja ekonomikoje, kontroliuoja dvi dideles politines partijas ir kitus įstatymų leidėjus išlaiko. TVF nesiryžta mesti pinigų valstybei, iš kurios akivaizdžiai nebaudžiamai buvo pavogti milijardai.

 

    Oligarchai yra įsitvirtinę viešajame gyvenime sudėtingais būdais. Apsvarstykite Mariupolį, kuris karo metu beveik pateko į prorusiškas pajėgas. Šauktiniai, kurie turėjo tai apginti, ruošėsi bėgti. Miestas buvo išgelbėtas, kai vietinis plieno baronas Rinatas Akhmetovas paragino savo darbuotojus į gatves, o kitas oligarchas Ihoras Kolomoiskis apginklavo miliciją. Matydami, kad milicininkai yra pasirengę kautis, liko ir Ukrainos kariai. Nuo to laiko Mariupolis tapo nuo kovų bėgančių žmonių prieglauda: jų yra ten       100 000 iš 540 000 gyventojų. Miestas atrodo kur kas gražiau, nei 2014 metais. Didelės investicijos pagerino autobusus, kelius, parkus ir šiukšlių surinkimą. Planuojamas naujas oro uostas ir universitetas.

 

    Visuomenės nuomonė taip pat pasikeitė. Prieš karą du trečdaliai Mariupolio gyventojų palaikė prorusišką politinę partiją. Ši dalis sumažėjo perpus. Tačiau Rusija vis dar turi ranką ant Mariupolio gerklės. Nuo 2012 m. jo uoste perdirbtų krovinių kiekis sumažėjo perpus, pirmiausia dėl karo, paskui dėl to, kad V. Putinas apsunkino didelių laivų pasiekimą iš Juodosios jūros. Kritikai svarsto, ar sveika, kai miestas taip priklauso nuo vieno magnato. Sakoma, kad A. Akhmetovas yra turtingiausias Ukrainos žmogus.

 

    Zelenskis, buvęs komikas, pažadėjo sumažinti Ukrainos oligarchų poveikį. Tikimasi, kad jis netrukus pasirašys naują įstatymą, pagal kurį jo paskirta komisija galėtų priskirti „oligarcho“ titulą visiems, kurie yra labai turtingi, finansuoja politinę partiją ir kontroliuoja žiniasklaidos turtą. Dėl to visiems, kuriems suteiktas toks pažymėjimas, būtų sunkiau pritraukti kapitalą.

 

    Kritikai pastebi, kad J. Zelenskis turi glaudžius ryšius su J. Kolomoisky, vienu prieštaringiausiai vertinamų oligarchų, kurio televizijos kanalas vedė laidą, kuri įgalino prezidentą išgarsėti. Jie nerimauja, kad įstatymas gali suteikti M. Zelenskiui per daug diskrecijos, kad galėtų karvoti savo priešus ir priversti juos parduoti savo televizijos kanalus jo draugams. „Tai skirta priversti oligarchus elgtis politiškai“,-sako Daria Kaleniuk iš NVO Antikorupcijos veiksmų centro. - Bet netrukdytų jiems būti oligarchais.

 

    Viena iliustracija, kaip oligarchai silpnina Ukrainą, yra mažmeninė dujų rinka. Daugelyje namų dujos gaunamos iš įmonių, kurias kontroliuoja Dmitrijus Firtašas, magnatas, turintis rusiškų ryšių, gyvenantis Vienoje ir kovojantis su ekstradicija į Ameriką dėl įtariamos korupcijos. Jo įmonės turi didžiulių nesumokėtų skolų valstybiniam didmeniniam tiekėjui „Naftogaz“. Tai pinigai, kuriuos būtų galima investuoti, siekiant padidinti vidaus dujų gamybą. Tuo tarpu M. Zelenskio paskirtas naujas „Naftogaz“ generalinis direktorius sutiko išmokėti valstybei riebius dividendus iš firmos šalčio dienos fondo. Tai padės M. Zelenskiui tiesti populiarius kelius, tačiau Ukrainoje mažiau liks pirkti skubios pagalbos atsargas, jei V. Putinas pradės stiprinti savo energetikos politiką“ [1].

·  ·  · 1.  "Winter is coming; Ukraine." The Economist, 23 Oct. 2021, p. 50(US).

Ukraine will never emerge from the crisis - Lithuania is wasting resources unnecessarily in supporting Ukraine

 

"Vladimir Putin's gas diplomacy terrifies Ukrainians.

AS AN ICY wind rattles the windows of his office, Sergei Shapkin dips a biscuit in honey and ponders the art of survival. He is the mayor of Pavlopil, a village in eastern Ukraine. When civil war started in February 2014, Mr Shapkin knew his village was in danger. On one side were pro-Russian separatists, armed by the Kremlin. On the other were loyalist forces. If they fought over Pavlopil, villagers would die.

So Mr Shapkin, a cardigan-wearing former history teacher, talked to the men with guns. His village was of no strategic value, but it had shops. He suggested that the separatists enter in the morning, unarmed and on foot, to buy food and cigarettes. The Ukrainian army could do the same each afternoon. That way, they would not bump into each other and start shooting. It worked--there was no fighting in Pavlopil, and the locals stayed alive, apart from one whose tractor hit a mine.

Ceasefires have come and gone since September 2014, and sporadic shooting continues in eastern Ukraine. Just on October 12th, the day of an EU-Ukraine summit in Kyiv, monitors counted nearly 300 ceasefire violations, including 77 explosions. "Everyone has a shelter," says Mr Shapkin. "We're all prepared with candles, hammers and torches. And we all have bags packed in case we suddenly have to move."

Now, as winter approaches, Ukrainians have another worry: that Russia will turn off the gas again.

In 2009 it shut off the flow of gas through Ukraine for two weeks. This cost Russia a fortune, since its gas needs to pass through Ukraine to reach customers in Europe. Soon, though, it may be able to pump gas to Germany via a new pipeline, Nord Stream 2, that bypasses Ukraine. Once it opens--which could be soon, though it is subject to legal and diplomatic challenges--Mr Putin will be able to choke off supplies to Ukraine almost at will.

Technically Ukraine does not buy gas directly from Russia, but from downstream countries such as Hungary. In reality, it takes Russian gas in the east and substitutes its own gas, which is produced in the west of Ukraine, for transmission onwards. So if the flow through Ukraine were to stop, the east of the country would be in trouble. "We're gas hostages," says Vadim Boichenko, the mayor of Mariupol, a port city 25km south of Pavlopil.

On October 12th in Kyiv Ursula von der Leyen, the president of the European Commission, assured Ukrainians that Europe would protect their energy independence. They are not reassured. 

 

President Volodymyr Zelensky seeks shelter for his country inside NATO and the EU. But this is a non-starter. NATO members do not want to extend their principle of "an attack on one is an attack on all" to a country Russia has already attacked. And the EU has enough trouble integrating corrupt ex-communist states such as Hungary without admitting a grubbier, bigger one like Ukraine.

 

Trust is lacking on both sides. Mr Zelensky's first taste of geopolitics was when President Donald Trump urged him to supply dirt on Joe Biden, with a veiled threat that American support for Ukraine's security might depend on it. President Biden has not been much better, from a Ukrainian perspective. To cement relations with Germany, in May he waived sanctions that might have blocked Nord Stream 2.

 

The West would like to support reform in Ukraine, but it is not easy. Corruption is rife. Oligarchs dominate the economy, control two of the bigger political parties and put other lawmakers on retainer. The IMF hesitates to throw money at a state from which billions have been stolen with apparent impunity.

 

The oligarchs are entrenched in public life in complex ways. Consider Mariupol, which nearly fell to pro-Russian forces during the war. The conscripts who were supposed to defend it were about to flee. The city was saved when the local steel baron, Rinat Akhmetov, urged his staff onto the streets and another oligarch, Ihor Kolomoisky, armed a militia. Seeing that the militiamen were ready to fight, Ukrainian soldiers stayed, too. Since then, Mariupol has become a haven for fugitives from the fighting: 100,000 out of a population of 540,000. The city looks far nicer than it did in 2014. Hefty investment has improved its buses, roads, parks and rubbish collection. A new airport and university are planned.

Public opinion has shifted, too. Before the war two-thirds of people in Mariupol supported a pro-Russia political party. That share has fallen by half. Mr Putin's aggression has alienated the people he claims to defend. So the kind of "hybrid warfare" that worked in Donbas, where Russia stirred up local ethnic Russians to demand secession, will not work in Mariupol, says Mr Boichenko. Yet Russia still has a hand on Mariupol's throat. The amount of cargo processed in its port has fallen by half since 2012, first because of the war, then because Mr Putin made it harder for big ships to reach it from the Black Sea. Critics wonder if it is healthy for a city to depend so much on one tycoon. Mr Akhmetov is said to be Ukraine's richest man.

Mr Zelensky, a former comedian, has vowed to cut Ukraine's oligarchs down to size. He is expected to sign a new law soon that would allow a panel he appoints to label as "oligarchs" anyone who is very rich, finances a political party and controls media assets. This would make it harder for anyone so labelled to raise capital.

Critics note that Mr Zelensky has close ties to Mr Kolomoisky, one of the most controversial oligarchs, whose television channel hosted the show that propelled the president to stardom. They worry that the law might give Mr Zelensky too much discretion to cow his enemies and force them to sell their television channels to his friends. "It's to make oligarchs behave, politically," says Daria Kaleniuk of the Anti-Corruption Action Centre, an NGO. "Not to stop them from being oligarchs."

One illustration of how oligarchs weaken Ukraine is the retail market for gas. Many homes get their gas from companies controlled by Dmitry Firtash, a tycoon with Russian ties who is living in Vienna and fighting extradition to America for alleged corruption. His firms have huge unpaid debts to Naftogaz, the state wholesale supplier. This is money that could have been invested to increase domestic gas production. Meanwhile, a new Naftogaz CEO appointed by Mr Zelensky agreed to pay the state a fat dividend out of the firm's frosty-day fund. This will help Mr Zelensky build roads, which are popular, but will leave less in the kitty for Ukraine to buy emergency supplies should Mr Putin ramp up his pipeline power politics." [1]

 

·  ·  · 1.  "Winter is coming; Ukraine." The Economist, 23 Oct. 2021, p. 50(US).