RECYCLING is a hot environmental topic in many parts of the world. Plastic bags are being taxed in Ireland and will be against the law in Australia next year and in Italy the year after. In the UK and some American states, importers and retailers of electronic equipment are legally responsible for recycling their goods. Manufacturers have to fund recycling schemes, while retailers must offer take-back services to customers. In other words, “You sold me that microwave; now, you take it back!” And of course for a long time now, people in many countries have separated their rubbish from their garbage, tin, and glass and placed it outside their homes in special containers during certain hours of certain days or failing that have driven to specially located receptacles to place the right stuff in the right place. If it all seems a little confusing, not to worry: We don't have that problem in Jeddah. All of our recycling is instantaneous, automatic, and free. Seriously, have you ever wondered what happens to all the junk you throw away? That is, not only the refuse of everyday life, such as, leftover food, newspapers and magazines, but also all of those items that you have had great emotional difficulty parting with over the years that finally get tossed out in a monumental spring cleaning – clothes that no longer fit (yes, you were always going to lose weight), machines that you were going to get fixed (and now they don't even make those machines anymore), or old files, papers and letters from people you no longer even remember. So what happens after you bite the hard hoarder's bullet and decide to downsize and divest yourself of it all? Well, of course, you wrap it all up in black plastic bags or even pack it neatly in cardboard boxes, and you take it down to the street to the nearest bright blue dumpster and toss it in to await pickup by Jeddah's highly efficient sanitary engineers in color coded bright blue uniforms. And that is when Jeddah's recycling system kicks into high gear. For before you have returned to your flat, someone is carefully rummaging through the very same dumpster opening all of your neatly wrapped parcels and deciding what might be useful or not. Now we all know that this goes on as a sort of informal, cottage industry, and we are glad that someone is providing the service (since the city is not) and delighted that someone may actually be profiting, if even in a very small way, from our throwaways. In fact, you see residents putting bread and other still edible food in clean plastic bags and hanging them on the outer edges of the dumpster for someone to use. It is a sin to waste good food and to fail to recycle all the stuff that we accumulate. And as we don't know where to go or what to do with it, we are glad to have someone help us out. However, unfortunately, these recycling entrepreneurs are not always as tidy as they might be, and the next day you may find that dress or pair of trousers you could no longer fit into unceremoniously lying on the sidewalk like a murder victim chalk figure from a CSI episode. It is at that point that you may even start to wonder if someone is sitting somewhere with a nice cup of tea and reading all of your old letters – well, maybe they can remember who they were from. Speaking of which, I remember years ago when I was working in a small town in Africa, that a female teacher newly arrived from Europe had a big spring cleaning one day, throwing away lots of stuff in the nearest rubbish bin. Later that day as she was at her door receiving the school principal and his wife for tea, she was extremely chagrined to see a joyous band of young children singing and dancing up and down the street wrapped in her discarded bras and pantyhose. And for weeks afterwards the whole town every morning received its freshly baked bread wrapped in her letters from home. It made breakfast an event to be remembered, and we were all a bit sad when the supply ran out. Well, things have not reached that stage here in Jeddah, but still: You have to laugh. __
