Academic literature on the topic 'Food security – Ontario – Toronto Region'

AbstractObjectiveAlthough the sociodemographic characteristics of food-insecure households have been well documented, there has been little examination of neighbourhood characteristics in relation to this problem. In the present study we examined the association between household food security and neighbourhood features including geographic food access and perceived neighbourhood social capital.DesignCross-sectional survey and mapping of discount supermarkets and community food programmes.SettingTwelve high-poverty neighbourhoods in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.SubjectsRespondents from 484 low-income families who had children and who lived in rental accommodations.ResultsFood insecurity was pervasive, affecting two-thirds of families with about a quarter categorized as severely food insecure, indicative of food deprivation. Food insecurity was associated with household factors including income and income source. However, food security did not appear to be mitigated by proximity to food retail or community food programmes, and high rates of food insecurity were observed in neighbourhoods with good geographic food access. While low perceived neighbourhood social capital was associated with higher odds of food insecurity, this effect did not persist once we accounted for household sociodemographic factors.ConclusionsOur findings raise questions about the extent to which neighbourhood-level interventions to improve factors such as food access or social cohesion can mitigate problems of food insecurity that are rooted in resource constraints. In contrast, the results reinforce the importance of household-level characteristics and highlight the need for interventions to address the financial constraints that underlie problems of food insecurity.

Background: Food insecurity has been shown to be associated with poor dietary quality and eating behaviors, which can have both short- and long-term adverse health outcomes in children. The objective was to investigate the food security status, dietary intakes, and eating behaviors in a convenience sample of youth participating in the Maple Leaf Sports Entertainment LaunchPad programming in downtown Toronto, Ontario. Methods: Youth aged 9–18 years were recruited to participate in the study. Food security status, dietary intakes, and eating behaviors were collected using parent- or self-reported questionnaires online. Results: Sixty-six youth (mean ± SD: 11.7 ± 1.9 years) participated in the study. The prevalence of household food insecurity was higher than the national average (27.7% vs. 16.2%). Dietary intake patterns were similar to the national trends with low intakes of fiber, inadequate intakes of calcium and vitamin D; and excess intakes of sodium, added sugar, and saturated fat. Despite a low prevalence of poor eating habits, distracted eating was the most frequently reported poor eating habit. Conclusions: Although youth were at high risk for experiencing household food insecurity, inadequate dietary intake patterns were similar to the national trends. Our findings can be used to develop future programming to facilitate healthy dietary behaviors appropriate for the target community.

Abstract Objective To investigate the relationships between fish/seafood consumption patterns and food security status among First Nations (FN) communities in Canada. We estimated the contribution of fish/seafood to daily nutrient requirements. Barriers to traditional food (TF) access including fish were summarized. Methods Data were collected by the First Nations Food, Nutrition and Environment Study (2008–2018). The sample of this participatory study comprised 6258 randomly selected FN adults. Fish/seafood consumption was estimated with a food frequency questionnaire. Food security status was assessed with the Household Food Security Survey Module. The contribution of fish/seafood to protein, n-3 fatty acid, vitamin (A, B12, D, niacin) and mineral (selenium, zinc) requirements was assessed by comparison to Dietary Reference Intakes. Results Regional differences were observed in fish/seafood consumption patterns and their relationship with food security status. In the eastern regions (Ontario, Quebec/Labrador and the Atlantic region), consumption of fish/seafood and other TF was significantly higher among food insecure compared with food secure FN participants. Severely food insecure men (particularly in British Columbia, Alberta, Quebec/Labrador and the Atlantic region) tended to eat a higher amount of TF, including fish/seafood, compared with food secure and moderately food insecure men, while no difference was observed in women. Fish/seafood provided good sources of selected nutrients. However, the high cost of harvesting equipment, industry-related activities and climate change reduce access to fish/seafood and other wildlife. Conclusion Fish/seafood continues to be vital to the diet of FN communities. Focusing on policies that support FN increased access to fish/seafood has the potential to decrease food insecurity and support sustainable livelihoods. Future policies should focus on socio-economic determinants of food insecurity and support traditional harvesting and sustainable fisheries among FN communities.

AbstractAllotment food gardens represent important sources of food security for urban residents. Since urban gardeners rarely receive formal agricultural education and have extremely limited space, they may be relying on readily available gardening advice (e.g., seed packet instructions), inventing cultural strategies that consider inter-specific competitive dynamics, or making poor planting decisions. Knowledge of garden crop diversity and planting arrangements can aid in designing strategies for productive urban gardens and food systems. We surveyed 96 individual plots in 10 allotment gardens in the Toronto region, assessed crop diversity within gardens and recorded planting practices used by urban gardeners by measuring the proximity of individual plants relative to similar or different crop species. We also compared planting densities used by urban gardeners with those recommended by major seed distributers. Collectively, Toronto urban agriculture contributes substantially to urban plant diversity (108 crops), but each plot tends to be relatively depauperate. Carrots and lettuce were three to five times more likely to be planted in clusters than intermingled with other crops (P< 0.05); whereas gardeners did not appear to use consistent planting arrangements for tomatoes or zucchini. Gardeners tended to plant tomatoes and zucchini 56–62.5% more densely than recommended by seed distributers (P< 0.001), whereas they planted 147 times fewer carrots in a given area than recommended (P< 0.05). Furthermore, neither crop planting density nor crop diversity changed with plot size. The planting arrangements we have documented suggest gardeners using allotment plots attempt plant densely in extremely limited space, and are employing cultural strategies that intensify competitive dynamics within gardens. Future research should assess the absolute and relative effect of altered cultural practices on yield, such that any modifications can be prioritized by their impact on yield.

How can community-engaged scholars best undertake grounded, policy-relevant, food systems research and teaching in ways that support the capacity of—and meaningfully build on—the experiences of civil society organizations working on these issues in Canada? This paper analyzes four case studies in the context of a research project that brings together members of the Canadian Association for Food Studies and Food Secure Canada. One case was led by Region of Waterloo Public Health and faculty from the University of Waterloo; a second by the Food Security Research Network at Lakehead University in Thunder Bay and the North Superior Workforce Planning Board; a third by the national student organization Meal Exchange and Ryerson University in Toronto; and a fourth by the BC Food Systems Network. We argue that the answer to the question above lies in establishing respectful relationships and recognizing the different cultures involved, and we offer five methodological insights for building effective relationships in practice. The first is the need to disaggregate the concept of ‘community’ in order to acknowledge the distinct needs and assets of the diverse organizations and populations involved. Our second and third insights are linked: Establish the relationship around a shared vision, and <em>then</em> negotiate mutually-beneficial teaching or research projects. Fourth, practitioners should approach community-campus engagement through the framework of contextual fluidity, which includes seeing the relationships and the vision at the heart of the work, while remaining open to shifts and new opportunities. Finally, adopting community capacity building practices helps practitioners realize their shared vision.

INTRODUCTION Winter snow and ice can have a significant impact on our mobility, whether on foot or by car. Alongside plowing, arguably the greatest tool in combating snow and ice is salt. The most commonly used salt for winter maintenance is Sodium Chloride (NaCl), the same salt used in food and water softeners, is applied to roads, sidewalks, and parking lots as it is an effective deicer when temperatures are between 0°C and −12°C. Studies have shown that deicing with salt reduces accidents by 88% and injuries by 85% (Salt Institute 2017). The effectiveness of road salt, as well as its relative affordability, means that as much as four million tonnes may be applied annually in Canada for deicing (Environment Canada 2012). However, while salt is relatively inexpensive to purchase, there are a number of external costs that are becoming increasingly apparent. These include corrosion of vehicles and infrastructure like concrete, bridges, and water mains; damage and staining to the interior and exterior of buildings; impacts to roadside vegetation and soils; and the contamination of fresh water. In fact, the environmental impacts are such that it prompted Environment Canada to propose that winter salt be considered a toxic substance primarily due to the quantity that is applied annually (Environment Canada 2001). The Lake Simcoe watershed, approximately 3,400km2 in size, is situated just 20km north of Toronto, Ontario, with the southern portion of the watershed being considered part of the Greater Toronto Area (GTA), the most populous metropolitan area in Canada. As part of the GTA, the Lake Simcoe watershed has experienced and continues to experience considerable growth, and with this growth comes an increase in the amount of impervious surfaces requiring winter salting. Indeed, chloride has been showing a strong increasing trend in the urban creeks and in Lake Simcoe itself over the last 30 years. Even rural creeks are showing an increasing trend, albeit not as severe, nor are the concentrations of chloride reaching the same levels (LSRCA 2015). The highest chloride level recorded in a Lake Simcoe tributary was 6,120mg/l in the winter of 2013. Chloride guidelines for the protection of aquatic ecosystems utilize a guideline of 120mg/L for chronic exposure and 640mg/L for acute exposure (CCME 2011). While the high value recorded in the Lake Simcoe tributary greatly exceeds these guidelines, it is still drastically lower than values being recorded in larger, intensively urbanized catchments such as Cooksville Creek in Mississauga, Ontario, which sees concentrations in excess of 20,000 mg/L, the concentration of sea water, nearly every winter (Credit Valley Conservation personal comm). Similarly, in July of 2011 a small population of Atlantic blue crabs, a marine species, was found surviving in Mimico Creek in Toronto (Toronto Star: May 26, 2012). That a marine species was able to survive in this fresh water creek in summer demonstrates that the impacts of winter salt are not just limited to winter but are impacting shallow groundwater and thus summer baseflow, maintaining high chloride concentrations year round. The same is being seen in some urban creeks in the Lake Simcoe watershed, with summer baseflow concentrations exceeding the chronic guideline and trending upwards (LSRCA unpublished). While not yet as extreme as rivers in the more densely urbanized parts of the GTA, these examples foreshadow what is in store for Lake Simcoe rivers if current winter salt practices continue along with the projected urban growth. During the winter of 2012 an estimated 99,300 tonnes of salt was applied in the Lake Simcoe watershed, an amount that equals nearly 250kg of salt per capita, or ~3 times the average person's body weight in salt. This estimate was generated through a survey of local road agencies along with the total area of commercial/institutional parking lots within the watershed. The exercise served to highlight a knowledge gap around application practices and rates in commercial/institutional parking lots. The majority of road agencies were found to record annual volumes, application dates and rates whereas literature values range from 10–40% of the salt applied in a catchment come from commercial/institutional parking lots (Perera et al, 2009; Trowbridge et al, 2010; Lake Simcoe Region Conservation Authority, 2015), and a survey of winter maintenance contractors cite an average value of approximately 58g/m2/application (Fu et al, 2013) ( Figure 1 ). [Figure: see text] While these values were used in the estimation as they were the best available, observational data suggested these may be on the conservative side ( Figure 2 ). [Figure: see text] Therefore, monitoring of a 14 ha commercial lot was undertaken for the winters of 2014/15, 2015/16, and 2016/17 to better quantify the amount of salt coming from this type of land use. The winters of 2014/15 and 2016/17 saw similar applications of 1,067 and 1,010 tonnes applied respectively, while the mild winter of 2015/16 saw 556 tonnes applied. While the amounts varied somewhat each winter, the impacts downstream were consistent. Maximum concentrations recorded in the melt water reached 3.5 to 4 times the salt concentration of sea water every winter, equating to chloride concentrations of 70,000mg/L to 85,000mg/L; two orders of magnitude above the water quality guideline. As with most parking lots constructed in the last two decades, the runoff from this parking lot is captured in a stormwater pond prior to entering the receiving watercourse. Interestingly, the winter salt also caused persistent chemical stratification in the permanent pool of the pond. The pond was monitored with continuous monitors for the ice free period of 2015 and 2016 (April to December) during which the bottom water chloride concentration remained distinct from the surface chloride concentration, indicating stratification ( Figure 3 ). This has two significant implications; first of which is that this pond, and therefore many other ponds like it, may not be functioning as designed which is leading to diminished performance (McEnroe 2012, Marsalek 2003). Second is that ponds are acting as salt reservoirs, slowly releasing salt year round and contributing to river chloride concentrations that continually exceed the chronic exposure guideline and thereby exposing aquatic life to harmful concentrations during sensitive life cycle stages. [Figure: see text] To determine the extent to which the catchment land use type impacts stormwater ponds, chemical profiles were measured on three ponds in February 2017. The catchments included the 24.6 ha commercial catchment with 14 ha of salt application surface, an institutional catchment (14.3 ha) with 6 ha of salt application area that includes parking lots and roads, and a 16.4 ha residential catchment with 3 ha of salt application area comprised of tertiary municipal roads. Interestingly, all three ponds showed chemical stratification, with the severity of the stratification and highest chloride concentrations relating to the amount of salt application area in the catchment. The residential pond yielded a maximum chloride concentration of 3,115mg/L in the bottom waters, the institutional yielded 16,144mg/L, and the commercial yielded 25,530 mg/L with chloride concentrations in the bottom 0.5m of the pond exceeding that of sea water. The maximum chloride concentration recorded in the receiving watercourse downstream of the commercial lot was measured at 5,406 mg/L, well in excess of the acute guideline of 640 mg/L. These results highlight that commercial parking lots are not only receiving a significant volume of salt but are also having the most dramatic impacts on receiving stormwater infrastructure and watercourses.

The food security crisis and disproportionately high burden of dietary related disease amongst northern Indigenous populations in Canada continues to be a troubling reality with little sign of improvement. The Government of Canada is responding by developing programs to support local food initiatives for northern isolated communities. While such investments appear commendable, the impact of local food harvesting to improve food security has yet to be determined. While there are clear nutritional and cultural benefits to traditional food sources, communities face considerable barriers acquiring it in sufficient amounts because of historically imposed lifestyle changes that have increased food insecurity rates. This study responds by providing a novel multidisciplinary approach that draws from firsthand experiences working with First Nations community members in a remote subarctic region in northwestern, Ontario to estimate their community’s total food requirement and the amount of wild animal food sources needed to sustain yearly food intake. This transferrable energy demand approach will be critical for policy makers to put into perspective the amount of wild food needed to have an impact on food security rates and ultimately improve dietary related diseases. Novelty: • It will provide government policy makers information about current harvest yields in a remote northern First Nation to understand the potential contribution of traditional food to improve local food security • Provides Indigenous communities a means to assess local food resources to measure the caloric contributions of traditional foods toward household food security

Background: This two-phase study explored the impact of the social determinants of health on people living with HIV (PLWH) in Waterloo Region, Ontario, in partnership with the AIDS Committee of Cambridge, Kitchener, Waterloo Area (ACCKWA). Phase 1 explored broader experiences related to social inclusion, food security, and housing. Phase 2 expanded into decision-making and navigating challenges related to these experiences. Methods: Participants were eligible to be a part of the study if they were an ACCKWA service user living with HIV over the age of 18. The samples per phase included 9 and 11 participants, respectively, who participated in semi-structured interviews. The interviews were transcribed and coded for themes using NVivo software. Results: Each phase supported previous research related to food, transportation, housing, and social challenges. Key themes identified in both phases included challenges related to food, housing, transportation, and social life. Separately, Phase 1 and Phase 2 found themes of resilience and strategic thinking, respectively. Our findings suggested a high prevalence of misinformation related to HIV and the absence of structural resources, forcing PLWH to be resilient, and make decisions about their life and health strategically. Conclusion: Our study suggests that as PLWH demonstrate resilience, society's responsibility to protect disadvantaged populations is diminished. Through the allocation of funding towards food and housing, and educational campaigns, structural support can be established to facilitate the improvement of resources.

Farmland is an essential resource for the sustainability and security of human food systems. Preserving an agricultural land base is critical, as it is significantly affected by local, national, and global urbanization. This research introduces a case of farmland preservation in southern Ontario. This area contains some of Canada's most finite and productive soils but has an agricultural system facing enormous pressure from urban expansion. This paper reviews the farmland preservation policy framework within Ontario and provides insight into the role of different levels of government in protecting this critical resource. It also provides data at a regional level that provides the basis to evaluate the success of provincial and local policies. By tracking agricultural land conversion through local Official Plan Amendments (OPAs), this study documents farmland loss across southern Ontario between 2000 and 2017. Implemented and approved by local government and designed with public input, municipal Official Plans outline and describe land-use planning policies on how municipalities should use lands to meet community needs and desires. OPAs are formal and legally binding administrative changes to a municipal Official Plan decided through an open public process, which are required to change local land-use designations that conform with the long-term vision for growth and physical development. These OPAs may include the conversion of farmlands for non-farm uses (or, in contrast, the protection of agricultural lands). Over time, they will reveal the loss of farmlands in each community for different uses (and reflect changing priorities). Using OPAs to track the conversion of prime agricultural land is an innovative and rigorous methodological contribution, given the lack of data documenting long-term changes to the availability of agricultural lands and the impacts of urbanization on farmland conversion. Measuring farmland loss with this approach can be transferred and applied to contexts where municipalities are the entities responsible for agricultural land-use planning, outside of Ontario and beyond. Data from 36 counties/regions shows that the provincial policies and local planning framework have worked in tandem to affect the agricultural land base in southern Ontario significantly. In Central Ontario, the most urbanized area of Canada, the Province's Greenbelt Plan has significantly reduced the rates of farmland loss since 2005, while the Growth Plan and other policies contributed to enhanced municipal control over agricultural land conversion. Specifically, the Inner Ring municipalities have played increasingly active roles in agricultural land protection with both planning approaches and local initiatives. Outer Ring municipalities have seen increasing urbanization pressure. Data on farmland loss for non-agricultural use showed large-scale municipal-led urban boundary expansions and small-scale individual applications on policy changes. In Western Ontario, over the past two decades, there has been no obvious upward or downward trend of farmland loss. Most of the farmland conversion cases in this region were small-scale applications to create small lots on existing agricultural land to allow non-agricultural uses such as commercial, recreational, residential, and agricultural-related facilities. Since 2000, Southeastern Ontario, which has the smallest provincial share of prime agricultural land, has experienced limited farmland loss, consisting primarily of small-scale, individual applications on land-use re-designations (partially reflecting reduced acreages of prime agricultural land). The provincial policy impact on farmland preservation is not as evident in this region. The findings and methodology of this study contribute to the groundwork on farmland availability and land-use planning policy development and research by providing a baseline enumeration of farmland availability and the effect of farmland protection policies at provincial and municipal levels within Ontario's land use planning regime.

In 2014, telecommunications companies Ooredoo and Telenor introduced a 3G phone network to Myanmar, one of the last, great un-phoned territories of the world (“Mobile Mania”). Formerly accessible only to military and cultural elites, the smartphone was now available to virtually all. In 2020, just six years later, smartphones are commonplace, used by every class and walk of life. The introduction and mainstreaming of the smartphone in Myanmar coincided with the transition from military dictatorship to quasi democracy; from heavy censorship to relative liberalisation of culture and the media. This ongoing transition continues to be a painful one for many in Myanmar. The 3G network and smartphone ownership enable ordinary people to connect with one another and the Internet—or, more specifically, Facebook, which is ‘the Internet in Myanmar’ (Nyi Nyi Kyaw, “Facebooking in Myanmar” 1). However, the smartphone and what it enables has also been identified as a new instrument of control, with mass-texting campaigns and a toxic social media culture implicated in recent concerted violence against ethnic and minority religious groups such as the Muslim Rohingya. In this article, I consider the political and cultural conversations enabled by the smartphone in the period following its introduction. The smartphone can be read as an anomalous, hybrid, and foreign object, with connotations of fluidity and connection, all dangerous qualities in Myanmar, a conservative, former pariah state. Drawing from Sarah Ahmed’s article, “The Skin of Community: Affect and Boundary Formation” (2005), as well as recent scholarship on mixed race identification, I examine deeply held fears around ethnic belonging, cultural adeptness, and hybridity, arguing that these anxieties can be traced back to the early days of colonisation. During military rule, Myanmar’s people were underserved by their telecommunications network. Domestic landlines were rare. Phone calls were generally made from market stalls. SIM cards cost up to US$3000, out of reach of most. The lack of robust services was reflected by remarkably low connection rates; 2012 mobile connections numbered at a mere 5.4 million while fixed lines were just 0.6 million for a population of over 50 million people (Kyaw Myint, “Myanmar Country Report” 232). In 2013, the Norwegian telecommunications company Telenor and the Qatari company Ooredoo won licenses to establish network infrastructure for Myanmar. In August 2014, with network construction still underway, the two companies released SIM cards costing a mere 1500 kyats or US$1.50 each. At the time, 1500 kyats bought two plates of fried rice at a Yangon street food stall, making these SIM cards easily affordable. Chinese-manufactured handsets quickly became available (Fink 44). Suddenly, Myanmar was connected. By early 2019, there were 105 smart connections per 100 people in the country (Kyaw Myint, “Facebooking in Myanmar” 1). While this number doesn’t count multiple connections within a single household or the realities of unreliable network coverage in rural areas, the story of the smartphone in Myanmar would seem to be about democratisation and a new form of national unity. But after half a century of military rule, what did national unity mean? Myanmar’s full name is The Republic of the Union of Myanmar. Since independence in 1948 the country has been torn by internal civil wars as political factions and ethnic groups fought for sovereignty. What actually bound the Union of Myanmar together? And where might discussions of such painful and politically sensitive questions take place? Advertising as a Space for Crafting Conversations of National Identity In a report on Asian Advertising, Mila Chaplin of Mango Marketing, the agency charged with launching the Telenor brand in Myanmar, observes thatin many markets, brands talk about self-expression and invite consumers to get involved in co-creation … . In Myanmar what the consumers really need is some guidance on how to start crafting [national] …] identities. (4) Advertising has often been used as a means of retelling national stories and myths as well as a site for the collective imaginary to be visualised (Sawchuk 43). However, Myanmar was unlike other territories. Decades of heavy censorship and isolationist diplomatic policies, euphemistically named the “closed” period, left the country without a functional, independent national media. Television programming, including advertising, was regulated and national identity was an edict, not a shared conversation. With the advent of democratic reforms in 2011, ushering in a new “open” period, paid advertising campaigns in 2015 offered an in-between space on nationally broadcast television where it was possible to discuss questions of national identity from a perspective other than that of the government (Chaplin). Such conversations had to be conducted sensitively, given that the military were still the true national power. However, an advertising campaign that launched a new way to physically connect the country almost inevitably had to address questions of shared identity as well as clearly set out how the alien technology might shape the nation. To do so required addressing the country’s painful colonial past. The Hybrid in National Narratives of Myanmar In contemporary Myanmar, the smartphone is synonymous with military and government power (mobile Internet traffic in northern Rakhine state, for example, has been shut down since February 2020, ostensibly for security). Yet, when the phone was first introduced in 2014, it too was seen as a “foreign” object, one that had the potential to connect but also “instantiated ... a worldly sensibility that national borders and boundaries are potentially breached, and thus in need of protection from ‘others’” (Sawchuk 45). This fear of foreign influence coupled with the yearning for connection with the outside world is summed up by Ei Phyu Aung, editor of Myanmar’s weekly entertainment journal Sunday:it’s like dust coming in when you open the window. We can’t keep the window closed forever so we have to find a way to minimize the dust and maximize the sunlight. (Thin)Ei Phyu Aung wishes to enjoy the benefits of connecting with the world outside (sunlight) yet also fears cultural pollution (dust) linked with exploitation, an anxiety that reflects Myanmar’s approach to belonging and citizenship, shaped by its colonial history. Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, was colonised in stages. Upper Burma was annexed by British forces in 1886, completing a process of colonisation begun with the first Anglo-Burmese wars of 1823. The royal family was exiled from the pre-colonial capital at Mandalay and the new colony ruled as a province of India. Indian migration, particularly to Rangoon, was encouraged and these highly visible, economic migrants became the symbol of colonialism, of foreign exploitation. A deep mistrust of foreign influence, based on the experiences of colonialism, continued to shape the nation decades after independence. The 1962 military coup was followed by the expulsion of “foreigners” in 1964 as the country pursued a policy of isolation. In 1982, the government introduced a new citizenship law “driven as much by a political campaign to exclude the ‘alien’ from the country as to define the ‘citizen’” (Transnational Institute 10). This law only recognises ethnicities who can prove their presence prior to 1824, the year British forces first annexed lower Burma. As a consequence of the 1982 laws, groups such as the Rohingya are considered “Bengali migrants” and those descended from Chinese and Indian diasporas are excluded from full citizenship. In 1989, the ruling State Law and Order Council (SLORC) changed the country’s name to Myanmar and the anglicised Rangoon to Yangon. Thus the story of Burma/Myanmar since independence is of a nation that continues to be traumatised by colonisation. Given the mistrust of the foreign, how then might an anomalous hybrid object like the smartphone be received? Smartphone Advertising and National Narratives Television advertising is well suited to creating a sense of national identity; commercials are usually broadcast repeatedly. As Sarah Ahmed argues, it is through “the repetition of norms” that “boundary, fixity and surface of ‘social forms’ such as the ‘nation’ are produced” (Cultural Politics of Emotion 12). In her article, “The Skin of Community”, Ahmed describes these boundaries as a kind of “skin”, where difference is recognised through affective responses, such as disgust or delight. These responses and their associated meanings delineate a kind of belonging through shared experience, akin to shared identity—a shared skin. Telenor’s first advertisement in this space, Breakfast, draws from the metaphor of skin as boundary, connecting a family meal with cultural myths and social history. Breakfast was developed by Mango Marketing Services in 2014 and Telenor launched its initial television campaign in 2015, consisting of several advertisements brought to market in the period between 2014 and 2016 (Hicks, Mumbrella). The commercial runs for 60 seconds, a relatively expensive long format typical of a broadly-disseminated launch where the advertiser aims to introduce something new to the public and subsequently, build market share. Opening with images of Yangon, the country’s commercial centre, Breakfast tells the story of May, a newlywed, and the first time she cooks for her in-laws. May’s mother-in-law requests a famous breakfast dish, nanjithoke, typical of Mandalay, where May is from. But May does not know how to cook the dish and blunders around the kitchen as her in-laws wait. Sensing her distress, her husband suggests that she use his smartphone to call her mother in Mandalay and get the recipe. May’s dish is approved by her in-laws as tasty and authentic. In Breakfast, the phone is used as if it were a landline, its mobility not wholly relevant. The locations of both parties, May and her mother, are fixed and predictable and the phone in both instances is closely associated with connecting homes and more significantly, two important cities, Yangon and Mandalay. The advertisement presents the smartphone as solving the systemic problem of unreliable telecommunication in Myanmar as well as its lack of access; there is a final message reassuring the user that calls are affordable. That the smartphone is shown as part of everyday life presents it as a force for stability, a service that locates and connects fixed places. This in itself represented a profound shift for most people, in light of the fact that such communication was not possible during the “closed” period. Thus, this foreign, hybrid object enables what was not previously possible.While the benefits of the smartphone and network may be clear, the subtext of the advertisement nonetheless points to fears of foreign influence and the dangers of introducing an alien object into everyday life. To mitigate these concerns, May is presented in the traditional htamein or longyi and aingi, a long wrap skirt and fitted blouse with sleeves that end on the forearm, rather than western jeans and a t-shirt—both types of clothing are commonly worn in Yangon. Her hair is pulled back and pinned up, her makeup is subtle. She inhabits domestic space and does not have her own smartphone. In fact, it does not even occur to her to call her mother for the nanjithoke recipe, which is slightly surprising given her mother has a smartphone and knows how to use it, indicating that she has probably had it for some time. This subtext reflects conservative power structures in which elder generations pass knowledge down to new generations. The choice to connect Yangon and Mandalay through the local noodle dish is also significant. Breakfast makes manifest historic meanings associated with “place” a mapping of the “hidden” and “already given cultural order” (Mazzarella 24-25). As discussed earlier, Yangon was the colonial capital, known as an Indian city, but Mandalay as the pre-colonial capital remains a seat of cultural sophistication, where the highest form of the Myanmar language is spoken. The choice to connect Myanmar with the phone, as foreign object and bearer of anomaly, should be read as a repudiation of its bordered past, when foreigners (or kalaa, a derogatory term), including European ambassadors, were kept separate from the royal family by walls and a moat. The commercial, too, strongly evokes a shared skin of community through the evocation of the senses, from Yangon’s heat to the anticipation of a tasty and authentic meal, as well as through the visualisation of kinship and inheritance. In one extremely slow dissolve, May and her mother share the screen simultaneously, compressed in space as well as time. It is as if their skin of kinship is stretched before us. As the viewer’s eye passes from left to right across the screen, May’s present, past, and future is visible. She too will become the mother, at the other end the phone, offering advice to her daughter. There is suggestion of a continuum, of an “immemorial past” (Anderson 12), part of a national narrative that connects to pre-colonial Mandalay and the cultural systems that precede it, to the modern city of Yangon, still the commercial of contemporary Myanmar.At first glance, Breakfast seems to position the phone as an object that will enable Myanmar to stay Myanmarese through the strengthening of family connections. The commercial also strives to allay fears of the phone as a source of cultural pollution or exploitation by demonstrating its adoption among the older generation and inserting it into a fantasy of an uninterrupted culture, harking back to pre-colonial Burma. Yet, while the phone is represented in anodyne terms, it is only because it is an anomalous and hybrid object that such connections are possible. Furthermore, the smartphone in this representation also enables a connection between pre-colonial Mandalay to contemporary Yangon, breaching painful associations with both annexation and colonisation. In contrast to the advertisement Breakfast, Telenor’s information video, Why we should use SIM slot 1, does not attempt to disassociate the smartphone with foreignness. Instead, it capitalises on the smartphone as a hybrid object whose benefit is that it can be adapted to specific needs, including faster Internet speeds to enable connection to external video channel, such as YouTube.The video features young women dressed in foreign jeans and short-sleeved tops, wearing Western-style make-up, including sparkly nail polish. Both women appear to own their smartphones, and one is technically adept, delivering the complex information about which slot to use to facilitate the fastest Internet connection. Neither has difficulty with negotiating the complicated ports beneath the back cover of their smartphone to make the necessary change. They are happy to alter their phones to suit their own needs. These women are perhaps more closely in line with other markets, where the younger generation “do not expect to follow their parents’ practice” (Horst and Miller 9). This is in direct contrast to Breakfast, where May’s middle-aged mother has adopted the phone and, in keeping with conservative power structures, is already well-versed in its uses and capabilities. While this video was never intended to be seen by the audience for Breakfast, there remain parallels in the way the smartphone enables a connection within the control of its user: like May’s mother, both women in Breakfast are able to control or mitigate the foreign material through the manipulation of their device, moving from 2G to H+. They can opt in or out of the H+ network.This article has explored discussions of national identity prompted by the introduction of the smartphone to Myanmar during a moment of unprecedented political change. Breakfast, the advertisement that launched the smartphone into the country, offered a space in which the people of Myanmar were able to address questions of national identity and gently probe the discomfort of the colonial past. The communication video Why we should use SIM slot 1 reflects Myanmar’s burgeoning sense of connection with the region and presents the smartphone as customisable. The smartphone in advertising is thus positioned as a means for connecting the generations and continuing the immemorial past of the Burmese nation into the future, as well as a hybrid object capable of linking the country to the outside world. Further directions for this enquiry might consider how the discussion of Myanmar’s national identity continues to be addressed and exploited through advertising in Myanmar, and how the smartphone’s hybridity is used to counteract established national narratives in other spaces.References Adas, Michael. The Burma Delta 1852-1941. Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 2011.Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1983. Ahmed, Sara. Cultural Politics of Emotion. Edinburgh: Edinburgh UP, 2014.———. “The Skin of Community: Affect and Boundary Formation.” Revolt, Affect, Collectivity: The Unstable Boundaries of Kristeva’s Polis. Eds. Tina Chanter and Ewa Płonowska Ziarek. Albany: State U of New York, 2005. 95-111. 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