The Cage Egg Trap

This article first appeared on The Hoopla on December 11, 2013

One of my favourite restaurants in Sydney has its kitchen right at the front, with a big glass window that lets you peer in as the chefs weave their culinary magic. There’s always a queue to get in, so there’s always plenty of time to enjoy the show.

The last time I visited I looked on in awe as one of the young cooks grabbed a couple of eggs from a carton, one in each hand, and meticulously cracked them right down the middle. The gooey insides poured out and hit the hot frying plate with a satisfying sizzle. The shells were neatly cast aside and the cook reached back to the box to apprehend his next pair of victims, all in a matter of seconds.

My eyes trailed his lightening-fast hands back to the carton – and caught the words ‘cage eggs’ printed on the side.

I’ve been a believer in free range even longer than I’ve been a self-righteous vegetarian. My Nan had chooks when I was a kid, so I’ve grown up with the ideal of hens happily scratching in the dirt as they eat kitchen scraps. The whole concept of battery farms, where beaks are cut off without anaesthetic and birds live their whole lives in a space no bigger than an A4 piece of paper, has always seemed unconscionable.

There is no way I’d buy cage eggs and buy into that gruesome business.

Now with the ACCC announcing it is launching proceedings against two producers – Snowdale and Pirovic – because of claims they are misleading customers by using the term “free range”, you have to wonder if it’s possible to avoid cage eggs at all… even when you make a clear choice in the supermarket.

But what about when you have less control over your choices?

There I was, standing with a friend outside one of my best-loved eateries, just about to get to the front of the line and the delicious treats inside. Could I walk in and order lunch, knowing that every vegetarian option on the menu included one of those factory-farmed eggs?

I could. And I did.

Although on this visit, I just couldn’t enjoy the flavours and textures in the same way. Probably due to that overwhelming taste of guilt in my mouth.

Since then I’ve been thinking about how many other cage eggs end up on my plate. Sure, the inner city hipster cafes I frequent proudly promote their use of organic free-range, but I’ve never seen that kind of proclamation on a menu in Chinatown, or at the RSL clubs I visit with my Nanna. I’ve never asked the ladies who make my egg sandwiches in the cafe at work if I could check their cartons for a free-range logo. And I’ve only just realised that eggs are used to make countless other products I buy, from egg noodles to pasta, cakes, custard, mayonnaise and even red wine, where egg whites are used to remove excess tannins.

The Australian Egg Corporation has reported a substantial decrease in the number of cage eggs sold in retail outlets over the past five years, but they’ve been hesitant to release the figures on how many cage eggs continue to be produced in total. Only about a third of Australian eggs make their way onto supermarket shelves in cartons, most of the rest are used locally in food production. According to the latest figures, just over half of the eggs now sold at retail are cage eggs, but the percentage of cage eggs sold for food production is estimated to be substantially higher.

Animals Australia say that there are twelve-million laying hens confined in battery facilities around Australia today, which is over 70 per cent of the total laying stock.

Last month the Woolworths supermarket chain committed to phasing out cage eggs from their shelves by 2018. More strikingly, they also said that they will stop using cage eggs as an ingredient in their home brand products. According to Woolworths, the primary motivator for the decision is rising consumer concern for animal welfare. The company reported that 70 per cent of the eggs they sold in 2009 were cage eggs, but now that figure has dropped to just 50 per cent. Customers are willing to pay a little more if that leads to a little less suffering and they’ve delivered that message in cold, hard sales figures.

Organisations like Animals Australia, Animal Liberation and the RSPCA have been advocating loudly for an end to battery-produced eggs for years. Public campaigns have circulated images of hens crammed into cages, sometimes pecking themselves or their cage-mates to death because of distress and cramped conditions. But even those types of shocking images haven’t been enough to shut down the industry.

Another tactic has been to put pressure on governments to outlaw battery farms, or to at least enforce labelling standards that give consumers a genuine choice to support free-range production. Bills sponsored by Greens or independent members have been made their way to state parliaments right around the country, but all have been defeated.

So the announcement by Woolworths was a big deal. It’s both a genuine win for animal rights and also a triumph for consumer advocacy. One of the biggest Australian retailers has been swayed by consumer sentiment, proving that small ethical choices can make big transformations in the food industry. It’s got me wondering how many letters it will take from people like me before that favourite restaurant of mine will consider making the shift to free range. Or how few.

I'm Gay And I Love Weddings

This article first appeared on New Matilda on 27 Nov 2013

Many heterosexual couples are altering their own marriage vows in support of marriage equality. That means a lot to Danielle Buhagiar - who would like to throw a killer wedding of her own

The wedding was in Red Hill, a picturesque little town nestled in Melbourne’s Mornington Peninsula. The ceremony blended elements of the bride’s Jewish heritage with some of the more flamboyant flourishes of her professional life in the theatre.

Under a traditional Chuppah wedding canopy, the female celebrant led the couple to circle each other, an act usually reserved solely for the wife-to-be. A glass was smashed to a chorus of mazel tov and later groups of dancers hoisted the newly-weds into the air on chairs. Throughout the day there was a lot of laughter, a lot of tears and a lot of fabulous outfits.

I’m gay and I love weddings. Except for the part in every ceremony where I’m reminded that I can’t have one. But it’s inspiring to see more and more supportive heterosexual couples are teaming up their vows with a statement about equal marriage rights.

The most poignant moment for me at the Red Hill wedding came just before the vows, during the official part of the ceremony known as the "monitum". The term translates from Latin to mean "a warning".

In every official Australian wedding, the celebrant is required to remind the guests that:

“Marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life.”

While those words were being read the bride turned around to the big group of gays in the room, which included some of her closest and oldest friends, and mouthed an apology.

The Australian Marriage Act states that every official marriage ceremony (other than those officiated by a religious minister) needs to include those words and the celebrant made it clear that she was only reading them because it was required to validate the marriage.

My female partner and I had heard those words before and knew to expect them. We also knew to expect that uncomfortable feeling that comes each time they’re recited and we’re reminded once again that relationships like ours can’t be celebrated with a ceremony like this.

But this time, on the request of the bride and groom, the celebrant expressed a hope that one day Australian marriage laws would change to be more inclusive of all the relationships represented in the room.

Other progressive and sensitive friends of mine have had similar statements made at their weddings. They recognise that those words and the current marriage laws set up a hierarchy of relationships.

They also know that their gay friends would put on killer wedding parties if they were allowed and believe that they should have just as much right to wear killer heels down the aisle if they choose, regardless of their gender or that of their partner.

Some heterosexual couples like the Australian Rugby star David Pocock and his partner Emma have publicly stated that they won’t get married until their gay friends have that right too. It’s a decision that’s incredibly magnanimous and it means a lot to the marriage equality movement and to people like me.

Weddings are fabulously fun and such a special celebration of two people intensely in love. They bring together families and friends from all over the world for a big group love-in that inevitably ends in lasting friendships and memories. Weddings are too good to give up. In fact, I’d like to encourage more of them.

And with all that love in the air, perhaps wedding ceremonies are the perfect place to do some gentle persuading. At that pivotal moment when everyone in the room is captivated by an incredible love story, a small statement about unfair laws that diminish other loving relationships can be a really powerful thing. It might change a few minds and one day it might even lead to a change in legislation.

Until that happens, wedding ceremonies will be a constant reminder to gay people that they’re different and that their relationships aren’t considered significant enough to deserve such a special celebration.

Cuba Has A Currency Problem

This article first appeared on New Matilda on 8 Nov 2013

Determined to take the trip "before Castro dies" my partner and I recently spent a couple of weeks exploring Cuba, which has been a socialist stronghold since 1959. One of the first things we noticed as we entered the arrival hall was the abundance of official-looking uniforms filled by official-looking people.

In a country where more than 80 per cent of the population is employed by the government, there’s no shortage of bored public servants on hand, often less than friendly but always authoritative and ready to steer you onto officially sanctioned paths.

After clearing customs we walked out of the arrival terminal in search of a place to change our foreign dollars into local currency, which is only available inside Cuban borders. We approached an airport worker carrying a walkie-talkie as well as a laminated pass and against our better judgement let her bundle us into a taxi as she reassured us that the driver would take us to change our money.

The taxi drove just 200 metres then stopped. The driver told us to get out and change our dollars inside a different part of the terminal, while he waited outside with our luggage locked in his boot. All the stories of scams that we’d been told by past visitors came rushing back. There was no better option in sight and dusk was fast approaching.

As we stood in the queue at the currency exchange counter for nearly 45 minutes (our first taste of the inefficiencies of socialist bureaucracy), we became increasingly anxious and increasingly sure that we’d bid adios to our luggage. So we were overjoyed when, after finalising our transaction, we found our driver waiting patiently outside. He drove us direct to our hotel and only charged us the usual overly inflated tourist fare, to which we happily added a reasonable thank-god-you’re-not-a-thief gratuity.

Where we had a less positive experience was at the currency exchange desk itself. When it was finally our turn at the window, we handed over the cash we’d brought with us to a disdainful young women who changed it into Convertible Pesos, known on the island as CUC. Cuba has been using a dual currency system since 1994 and the CUC is the currency designated for tourist use, while locals deal primarily in Cuban pesos.

After counting out our pile of notes numerous times, the cashier handed them over and we were sent on our way. But, with our own quick ad-hoc conversion, it seemed that we’d been short changed so I stepped back to the window and asked for the receipt that had conveniently not been handed over with the currency.

With no hint of embarrassment or concern, the Cuban cashier feigned surprise, did a search of her desk for a couple of minutes, then handed over a crumpled receipt and the extra $20 CUC that was missing from our pile.

It was surprisingly brash behaviour from a Cuban official. However, as we got to know Cuba better, we soon understood why a young government worker would risk their job to filch a few notes from unsuspecting travellers.

One CUC is worth about 25 regular pesos and the average monthly wage in Cuba is around 450 pesos. So the single $20 CUC note missing from my pile was equivalent to almost a whole month’s earnings.

It’s not just the value of the currency that’s attractive. There are many things in Cuba that can only be bought with CUC, including most imports. Items like new clothes, pens, schoolbooks and even soap are only available to those who hold Convertible Pesos. Most Cubans in public service jobs (remember, that’s more than 80 per cent of the population) get paid in Cuban pesos. They need to save them and buy CUC to be able to purchase many basic items.

So it’s easy to understand why a government-employed cashier who hands out thousands of dollars of CUC to foreigners every day might try to slip a note aside for herself. It’s also easy to understand why a taxi driver, who gets paid in CUC every time he picks up a tourist, wouldn’t risk driving off with a boot-full of luggage when getting caught would mean losing one of the most lucrative jobs on the island, and missing out on a tip worth half the average monthly salary.

The Convertible Peso was introduced to Cuba as a mechanism for bringing foreign currency into the country through tourism and investment. It has contributed to creating the very thing that the Cuban Revolution had intended to eliminate – a class system. There are now two distinct classes in Cuba: those who have CUC and can enjoy the coca-cola shipped in from Mexico, and those who don’t, some of whom can be found approaching tourists on the street asking if they have spare clothes to leave behind.

This disparity is not only creating tension in Cuban society. It’s also creating a massive brain drain as some of the best and brightest young Cubans are leaving government professions in schools and hospitals to work in the tourist trade. While a medical doctor earns around 500 Cuban pesos a month, or around $25 CUC, a taxi driver can easily make that amount in a day. The Cuban sex-tourism industry is also thriving.

The problems have been publicly recognised by the Communist government for some time. A key demand of their 2011 Party Congress was that the dual system be scrapped. However it was only last month that President Raul Castro finally announced that CUC would be phased out.

Businesses that used to trade only in CUC will now be able to take payments in local currency, although many of the items in those stores will still remain out of reach for the average Cuban until steps are taken to increase the wages of government workers.

Castro hasn’t outlined a course of action or given a deadline for the end of the dual system. As with most things in Cuba, the process is likely to be frustratingly slow. But the announcement was seen as a positive step that has been widely embraced by the Cuban people.