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Showing posts with label waste. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waste. Show all posts

Friday, May 18, 2012

Noticing the Culture of Paris: Waste


Depending on the part of Paris you’re in, Paris is a very clean or surprisingly dirty city.  The average Parisian—non-immigrant—is concerned with eco-friendly products and good recycling habits.  In immigrant laden areas of Paris, this is not always the case, though still is for some.  Regardless, there are trash recepticals everywhere throughout Paris, and one sees trashmen going about to collect this trash on a daily basis.  The center of Paris is usually very clean and it’s nearly impossible to find trash on the ground, though one my find the occasional box filled with empty wine bottles from the night before, if walking around in the early morning hours.  However, cigarette butts are not trash.  One cannot regard them as garbage.  Given this, cigarette butts line Paris in an astonishing way.  In any given square foot there are 1-15 cigarette butts in places near where people can sit or street curbs.

Their trash men are not “underlings” of French society the way they are in the United States—service jobs where you do your job unseen.  In fact, they talk to and joke with people on the street as they pass by picking up full trash bags and replacing them with new bags.  People have conversations with them and they do their job well.  Despite relative cleanliness of the inner-city and the well-doing trashmen, France is not afraid of trash and not afraid to admit trash/rubbish exists.  Today I walked out onto my street—a nice street in the 6th arrondisement—to see two LARGE mounds of trash in the middle of the street.  Perhaps the truck broke down, perhaps that’s how they collect trash (I’ll watch out for this again) but no one seemed in a rush to move the trash, and people walked past it without the slightest worry.  It was being taken care of, I imagine.—This is not something you would ever see on an important, well-to-do street in the United States.  Someone would have complained the second it happened, someone would be scrambling to get it off the street and out of the area, someone would be fired.  In Paris, it was life as usual, only a giant mound of trash was accompanying it.