Many residents of low-income areas across the United States struggle with their weight. Despite numerous healthy eating and healthy lifestyle initiatives like Shape Up Vicksburg, poverty and obesity seem inextricably linked. Figures from the Mayo Clinic show that counties nationwide with poverty rates above 35 percent also suffer from obesity rates that are 145 percent greater than those of their wealthier counterparts.
However, this positive correlation between poverty and obesity does not seem to extend internationally. In the Indian population, some of the poorest members of the community are also the thinnest members.
Nutritionists often chalk up the reversed phenomenon in the two countries to different attitudes regarding fast food franchises. In the United States, an increase in overweight and obese citizens in poor communities parallels an increase in the fast food franchises in those areas. Wendy’s and McDonalds, along with other chains, are often overrepresented in lower-income areas because most residents in such areas can often only afford to eat in such establishments.
Whereas, in India, McDonald’s exists due to foreign influence — with U.S. prices converted to rupees. Lower-income groups in India are at a “healthy” weight because they can’t afford to eat at the local Taco Bell. So, they’re eating something else.
This discrepancy highlights an issue broader than fast food. The answer to the American obesity epidemic might lie in improving Americans’ access to healthy food and in following the Indian lead.
In many low-income areas across the United States, fresh fruits and vegetables are a rare find. On my recent flight to India, I met a woman from Calvin, Okla., who complained that her local mini-mart was the only place to get food for miles. Since the mini-mart stocked mostly nonperishable goods, vegetables were rare commodities, and family dinners mostly consisted of microwave macaroni and cheese and beef jerky.
The pitiable lack-of-availability situation repeats in urban areas as well. Cities like New Orleans and Chicago hold a coveted first and second place respectively on the list of America’s top nine “food deserts” — a term coined to describe communities with little or no access to healthful food and fresh produce.
Although Washington, D.C. doesn’t fall within the envied nine, the city’s lowest-income area still struggles with one supermarket for every 70,000 inhabitants. Closer to home, the situation in West Philadelphia is only a shade better with grocery stores limited to places like Girard Vegetable Market and Fresh Grocer, two stores with a trek of 16 inconvenient blocks between them. It’s easier, and unhealthier, to head to R.V. Minimart for lunch.
In India, by contrast, while supermarkets and hypermarkets like Foodworld have sprouted on the subcontinent, most people prefer the vendor on wheels who comes to their door or stands by their street corner, selling everything from okra and spinach to mangoes and grapes. In nearly every neighborhood, rich or poor, fresh produce on wheels is always within walking distance, a sight that unifies the social classes. Some vendors are farmers who travel into the city to sell their crops while other vendors are contracted by hypermarkets that reverse the norm and roll their eggplants and beans out to their customers.
Whatever the source of the vegetables on the street carts, the ubiquitous nature of these vegetable carts keeps haggling high and prices reasonable, within a sort of vegetable-cost hierarchy that guarantees healthy food choices and avoids weight problems within India’s poorer populations. If made commonplace in the United States, they could have a similar effect here.
The concept of the mobile supermarket produce section isn’t completely foreign to America’s urban poor. Early this past May, Greensgrow Farms, a Philadelphia nonprofit, worked with Camden, N.J. officials to supply the ninth worst “food desert” with a produce oasis in the form of a food truck. Residents seem to like the concept, more inclined to include vegetables in their diet now that fresh produce is close by.
In a culture of Shoprites and Acmes, it might be difficult to accept the idea of a produce market that rolls itself to its customers without the frills of discount coupons and shelving stickers. But, grocery stores require real estate — real estate that urban jungles and poorer counties haven’t been able to set aside. Camden hasn’t had a full service grocery store in 30 years, and the newly built Shoprite there is just getting on its feet.
Mobile supermarket produce sections break the American norm, but if we can reconcile with the concept, they might be able to break the national parallel between poverty, poor nutrition and obesity as well.
If they roll with fruits and vegetables in a country of over a billion people, can’t they roll for us?
Divya Ramesh is a rising College sophomore from Princeton Junction, N.J. Her email address is divyaramesh20@gmail.com. You can follow her @DivyaRamesh11. “Through My Eyes” runs biweekly during the summer.
The Daily Pennsylvanian is an independent, student-run newspaper. Please consider making a donation to support the coverage that shapes the University. Your generosity ensures a future of strong journalism at Penn.
DonatePlease note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.