Weather Cheats Tom

Unpredictable Summers: A Fruit Grower’s Battle with Climate, Politics, and Global Warming

“There is not enough warmth this year—fruits should have ripened by now,” says Tom Price, an orchardist in Western Australia. He shakes his head: “I can’t help it.”

Tom, a 65-year-old orchardist in the picturesque valley of Roleystone, Western Australia, takes pride in growing some of the finest varieties of stone fruit: Dapple Dandy, Sweet Henry, Arctic Jay, and Arctic Star nectarines. Above all, he prides himself on his lifelong expertise in synchronizing fruit cultivation with the unpredictable rhythms of nature.

“I have done this for the last sixty years,” Tom claims, recounting how he started working on his family farm at the tender age of five. “I know how to do this—yeah,” he insists to anyone who dares question his experience.

Yet this summer, Tom finds himself entirely taken aback. The weather has failed to deliver the heat needed to ripen his crops on schedule. He had meticulously planned his harvest to hit the market ahead of other growers to command peak prices. Instead, he waves a frustrated hand in the air and grimaces, his expression betraying a deep sense of hopelessness.

A Land of Contradictions

For someone from the Himalayas, Australia is a land of striking contradictions. When it is winter back home, it is searingly hot Down Under.

While much of the world worries about the overarching threat of global warming, a farmer like Tom finds that even a 30°C summer isn't warm enough for his orchard. Winter here is chilly when it rains, yet pleasant when it doesn't. While Australians are busy harvesting fresh fruits and vegetables, people up north in the Himalayas are stocking up and preparing to endure the harsh winter cold.

The political landscape reflects these contradictions just as starkly. While world leaders gather at the Copenhagen Climate Summit to tackle global emissions, politicians in Australia debate the proposed Emissions Trading Scheme (ETS), with critics dismissing it as an unnecessary burden on taxpayers.

Opposition Leader Tony Abbott argues that an ETS would cost the average taxpayer an extra $1,100 per year, leading his party to fiercely oppose Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s climate policy. In a twist of irony, Tom needs more warmth for his harvest this summer; Tony Abbott sympathizes with the immediate economic pressures on everyday Australians, while Rudd attempts to curb future warming altogether.

Caught Between Climate and Policy

In a subtle way, neither Tom nor Tony seems to feel the heat in the same way climate activists do. Meanwhile, average Australians—the blokes and Sheilas—are largely detached from the intense political heat brewing within the Rudd government. As an outsider, I struggle to make sense of it all as well.

Critics argue that Kevin Rudd is striving to position Australia—and himself—in the international limelight at Copenhagen. But for Tom, climate variation isn't an abstract policy debate or a political talking point. It is an urgent economic reality right now. Because his fruit is late to ripen, he won't be able to fetch the premium prices he had projected.

Weather patterns are taking their toll on Tom's livelihood, even as the combined forces of national politics and global economics dictate the terms of his future. As world leaders debate and environmentalists rally in Copenhagen, one thing remains clear: nature will likely continue to keep farmers like Tom guessing.

May God help him navigate the harvest ahead. 

My Blogs: Where and what is made?

My Blogs: Where and what is made?

Poverty (India)

Reflections on Jaigaon: Poverty, Slums, and the Economic Horizon

March 13, 2009 — The street was littered as ever. A pack of sheep grazed on discarded paper, plastics, and spoiled fruits and vegetables. Along the roadside, polythene sheets were spread out to display Chinese electronics, coins, and clothes, while hawkers pushing carts (thelas) of bhel puri, peanuts, and coconut shouted out their offers. Taxis, tempos, and auto-rickshaws honked endlessly to carve a path through the dense crowd of people and vehicles.

Among the throng, young girls carried infant siblings balanced on their hips—one arm wrapped tightly around the baby, the other tugging at the shirts or pants of passing Apas and Amas to signal their presence in this bustling square.

While Bhutan rarely sees widespread begging, the border town of Jaigaon seems flooded with it. Awed by their reality, passing Bhutanese shoppers automatically hand out small change—anywhere from five to a hundred Ngultrums—to these children.

These children spend most of their days on the streets, returning to the slums at night. Their homes are makeshift huts crafted from polythene salvaged from town garbage dumps. I have even seen some residing in abandoned underground sewage tunnels in the suburbs. Most of these children have parents who hold regular jobs at construction sites, in local restaurants, or in red-light districts; the children are sent to the streets to earn extra income. Many of these families are believed to have migrated or been displaced from Bangladesh.

Whenever these children press for money, passersby instantly hand over whatever loose change they can find in their pockets or purses just to avoid a scene. But there is little escape: if you don’t give, they follow you; if you do, a dozen more join them.

Yet, Jaigaon remains a bustling paradise for enthusiastic shoppers, sellers, and hawkers alike. One can find practically anything here—from cheap street food to luxury vehicles—and if an item is out of stock, vendors deliver it the next day. As much as Jaigaon represents a vibrant example of local entrepreneurship, it is equally a sanctuary for displaced people struggling to survive, and an eye-opener for anyone unfamiliar with poverty up close.

Poverty and Slums in India: The Impact of a Changing Economic Landscape

The following section incorporates insights adapted from a column by Hari Sud—a former investment strategies analyst, international relations manager, and retired Vice President from C-I-L Inc.

Western media headlines often report that 25% of Indians live on less than $1 a day, while 70% live on less than $2. However, these metrics can be misleading because they fail to account for how money holds different purchasing power in different economies.

Using Purchasing Power Parity (PPP)—which evaluates income based on the cost of local goods and services—presents a more accurate picture. On a PPP basis, India’s lower-income tier effectively earns closer to $7 a day. While still low, it reflects a different economic reality than flat exchange-rate headlines suggest. Nevertheless, extreme poverty and urban slums remain critical challenges that breed hopelessness and require direct integration into broader economic strategy.

What Drives Urban Slums?

Urban slums are born from a vicious cycle: population growth, rapid rural-to-urban migration in search of work, low incomes, and a lack of affordable housing.

• Historical Migration: Following independence in 1947, expanding urban industries drew cheap labor from rural areas. Migrants built makeshift shelters near their workplaces. Over time, single structures grew into sprawling settlements of thousands.

• Political Patronage: Local political structures often provided rudimentary utilities (like basic electricity and water) to convert these settlements into reliable vote banks, institutionalizing unauthorized slums.

• Socioeconomic Diversity: Slums are not occupied exclusively by the destitute. Second-generation residents who have secured employment often remain because urban centers lack affordable formal housing.

Today, major urban hubs face significant housing deficits—Delhi, Mumbai, and Kolkata contain massive informal settlements, and even newer, planned cities like Chandigarh face similar pressures.

Can Economic Growth Solve the Crisis?

If sustained economic growth rates continue, per-capita GDP will rise significantly over the coming decades, generating millions of jobs in manufacturing, construction, and services.

However, structural transformation takes time:

1. The Short-to-Medium Term (Next 10–20 Years): Economic growth alone will not instantly erase slums. Rising urban populations could initially strain existing infrastructure further unless paired with aggressive urban renewal and low-cost housing development.

2. The Long-Term Outlook (25+ Years): As median incomes rise, families naturally transition into planned housing developments. Combined with rural economic growth—which slows desperate migration to cities—slum growth is expected to plateau and eventually decline.

Global Lessons: US, UK, and China

The struggle with urban poverty is not unique to South Asia:

• The United States: During the early 20th century, rapid immigration and post-Civil War migration created dense urban ghettos in cities like New York and Boston. Industrialization, postwar economic expansion, and large-scale infrastructure investments eventually absorbed these populations into formal housing and stable employment.

• Great Britain: Pre-industrial cities in Britain suffered widespread urban squalor. The rapid expansion of manufacturing during the Victorian era quadrupled national wealth and created widespread factory employment, gradually dismantling industrial-era slums.

• China: Post-1949 China controlled urban migration through the strict Hukou (residence permit) system, preventing rural squatters from establishing informal urban settlements. Modern state-led infrastructure investment transformed urban housing rapidly, though rural-urban income disparities remain.

Conclusion

Ending extreme poverty and urban slums requires a dual approach: sustained economic expansion paired with targeted urban housing policies.

While economic growth alone will not transform towns like Jaigaon overnight, long-term national prosperity remains the primary engine capable of providing rising generations with better alternatives, stable housing, and dignified livelihoods.

Where and what is made?

The Flat World, Our Choices, and the Toys That Shape Tomorrow

An Adidas cap is trendy and comfortable. I fell in love with a wallet the exact moment I saw it. A Prospirit digital watch has every function I could possibly need. I bought them all—along with a few other things—while shopping in Australia. Awesome.

Each of these purchases, and many more I may or may not mention in this blog, shared one striking thing in common: none of them were made in Australia. I know the underlying answer is offshoring, cost-cutting, and the complex mixture of pleasant and unpleasant realities brought on by globalization.

My Adidas cap was made in Bangladesh, another was made in China, and the purse was crafted in India. I paid an awesomely huge price in Ngultrum (which is at par with Indian Rupees) for each of them. Having read Thomas L. Friedman’s book, I was enlightened: the world is flat now. These products are designed in the West, assembled in lower-cost countries, and brought back to fetch higher price tags.

The Geography of Quality and Desire

This raises a question: why aren’t these same global brands supplied to markets like Bhutan in the same way? If the cap was made in Bangladesh, why are products sent to markets differently?

The obvious answer is purchasing power, which third-world consumers are still building. Over time, consumers in developing nations might lose their connection to traditional brand prestige. An Adidas cap made in the developed world might not hold the same magical appeal for us anymore. By the time third-world consumers finally acquire the full ability to purchase, they may have outgrown the taste for it.

I know India produces quality leather goods—they are masterfully made in Kolkata, Bengaluru, and many other cities. I have used them, alongside other Indian products. Yet, for the longest time, my heart chased "foreign" goods. Foreign meant products from Australia, Europe, and America—not India, China, or Bangladesh. I took pride in owning them. I still do. But maybe not for much longer.

Where is the Western world heading with outsourcing, offshoring, and Foreign Direct Investment? Don’t you think Western nations are slowly losing the brand image they worked so hard to build for decades? Maybe, or maybe not. I think it ultimately depends on what we truly value: the brand name, or the simple purpose the commodity is meant to serve.

Or perhaps the answer lies in a timeless teaching of Buddhism: always in a hurry to get nowhere.

The Changing Tides of Global Trade

It is a fascinating paradox for a consumer from the third world. One day, I might think of asking my Bangladeshi friend to send me a cap meant for an Australian market—and gently remind him that he cannot charge the price he charges his Western customers. After all, we are closer neighbors. Or, I might not ask at all and simply settle for what is proudly marked Made in China.

Susan, who lives in Fremantle (a suburban town in Perth), says she can't trust anything Chinese. I never really did either. God help us both. Yet, China is striving relentlessly to become the factory of the world. The Chinese are ambitious and hardworking people—qualities that might practically become the dictionary definition of "Chinese" in the near future.

Bhutan has yet to establish free trade with China, but Chinese products have filled our markets for a long time. There is even a dedicated shop right in front of the Post Office in Thimphu for Chinese imported goods. When a glass is overfilled, it spills. In the past, we only got the spills, and it was messy. Now, Chinese goods are taking deliberate shape.

Once in a while—or maybe all the time—I buy Chinese toys for my daughters. I am reminded of the news coverage in Europe back in 2007 when certain Chinese products failed safety standards, yet Chinese toys remained everywhere.

It was clear then that China had adopted a brilliant long-term marketing strategy. They are teaching the next generation to grow up comfortable and familiar with Chinese products from the earliest stages of life.

Familiarity and the Future

Have you ever wondered why we can't live without Ema Datshi? The answer is simple: we grew up eating it every single day. We miss it after just a few weeks away from home, craving the burning sensation of hot chillies on our lips and mouth, even in grueling 40°C Australian heat.

China's marketing strategy is just as simple.

My daughter is growing up eating Ema Datshi, but she is also playing with toys from China. She will develop trust in those products while sleeping with Chinese Barbie dolls and teddy bears in her bedroom. Do I have to worry about that? I honestly don't know.

But one day, my daughter might never look for an Adidas cap made in the USA, Australia, or the UK. And I have a feeling that day might actually come true.