I had heard that supermarkets were beginning to infiltrate the
food system in Oaxaca, so in my search to understand just how much of the
globalized food market had made it into the city, I sought out the largest and
most powerful Mexican equivalent to the big box stores that frequent the United
States. When I entered Chedraui, I felt instantly comforted by its expansive
size and bustling atmosphere. Here was a store where I could buy anything and
everything I needed at a fixed price, removing the complication of
inconvenience and haggling (a process that is clearly infinitely better than
the supermarket model, but I am a product of my culture, what can I say?). 
As I began to pay more attention to my surroundings, I
started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. Everything around me seemed to
be enlarged, as if someone had used an imaginary air pump to increase the sizes
of all of the products. With an upper-average height of 5’7”, I felt small for
one of the first times in my adult life. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I noted
that soft drinks came in at least 1.5 liter bottles, even as large as 10 liter
jugs! Sugar was available in 5kg bags, sugary cereals were almost entirely
“family” sized, and some of the largest containers of mayonnaise I had ever
seen took up a quarter of one aisle. Vegetable oil, a newer popular alternative
to cooking with lard, filled an entire side of an aisle. As we are familiar
with in the United States, we have variety of sizes to a certain extent, but it
is largely separated between universal superstores such as Walmart or Target
and bulk-buying stores that require a membership like Costco or Sam’s Club.
Here, it is as if Walmart and Costco combined to present a new breed of store,
accessible to all with convenient volume and undeniable bargains.
After getting over the shock of the size and volume of the
products, I took a closer look at what the products being sold were and where
they came from. Three distinct patterns stood out to me. First, products such
as Florida’s Natural orange juice and California Sunrise milk sat innocently in
the refrigerated section. After nearly four months in Oaxaca, this was the first
time I had ever seen refrigerated milk in Mexico in any store. Similarly,
Johnsonville Sausages caught my eye, which after closer inspection revealed to
be from Wisconsin. Now, I could understand transporting goods from California
or Florida given their relative proximity to Mexico, but Wisconsin? That’s a
long way to go just to deliver some salami. 
The second thing I noticed were the brands that I was
accustomed to seeing in the U.S., but with proud labels on the packaging
sporting “Hecho en Mexico” (Made in Mexico). Philadelphia Cream Cheese, a Kraft
brand, and Knorr, a Unilever company which makes sauces and stocks for soups,
both proved to have processing plants in Mexico somewhere. The question is,
where? A quick internet search led me to discover that Unilever has plants in
Lerma in Campeche, and Tultitlán and Naucualpan in Mexico City, while Kraft has
five in Tijuana, Monterrey, Guadalajara, Merida, and Mexico City. I can’t
pretend I wasn’t surprised to see these products with Spanish labels and
ingredients in the Mexican supermarket. I had ignorantly assumed that most of
those products would be sent out of Mexico once produced to countries where
they were already integrated into the food culture. Seeing them here was a
distinct wake-up call to the reality that these products are now an established
part of the food culture here, too.
The other thing I found to be odd was the way in which
English packaging was adjusted to serve the Mexican community. Instead of
changing the packaging entirely as some companies had done, others instead
preferred to just slap a sticker on the back with the ingredients and nutrition
information in Spanish. Apparently, this type of packaging is something that
you can find even in Burlington, in the Old North End, if you buy products from
small markets that sell ethnic foods. As someone who isn’t particularly
cultured to eat foods from other countries, I had no idea that this packaging
could be found elsewhere. It seemed a practical, yet haphazard way of getting the
job done. To me, it stood out in an otherwise sterile and organized shopping center.
The fact that this type of supermarket exists in Oaxaca City raises a lot of questions. Even though small community markets are still used on a daily basis, stores like Chedraui are primed and ready to take over the food market. What will happen if this comes to fruition? Furthermore, who's to say once shopping centers in the city are the norm, their reach won't begin to creep into rural villages? What will remain of the strong food culture of Oaxaca? In Vermont, we place a strong emphasis on economic solidarity, taking back the market, and shortening the distance from farm to table. Here, big box stores are moving in faster than the opposition can keep up. I can't help but wonder what this invasion is going to do for the health of Oaxacans, who haven't traditionally been accustomed to sugary drinks, refined grains, and the higher levels of sodium and fat found in processed foods. Already there has been a rise in obesity and diabetes, almost par with the U.S. If Oaxacans spend more of their time shopping in supermarkets, who knows what will happen? I know I will certainly be on the lookout, waiting to see what changes are in store! |
| Seen here is professor Cynthia Belliveau enjoying our visit to Chedraui |
My name is Heather Skillman, and I am a junior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences studying Public Communication with minors in Spanish and Global Studies. While in Oaxaca, I have been a part of the Global Health track, learning about the public health system and how it functions within Oaxacan cultural and social norms. In my free time here I have enjoyed visiting the pueblos, buying many more artisanal items than I need, and eating as much good food and cake as I can!
