In Singapore, I put out my black bag for collection every day for ten years and it became someone else's problem. Recently I moved to an area of Ubud where here is no garbage collection. Now, my garbage is my problem. I have an opportunity to see how much I generate in a week, and it's not pretty.
I started asking other Ubudists what they did with their household waste. Impeccably politically correct individuals suddenly turned vague and wouldn't meet my eye. "I have no idea where it goes." "Oh, Made looks after it." "Doesn't it get collected?" Well, no. It gets buried or burned or thrown over the wall to decorate the bank of the ravine. It doesn't just go away.
Now, my mother started sorting recyclables 20 years ago. She meticulously flattens empty tins and removes labels from bottles. Peggy freezes garbage so it won't start to smell between weekly municipal collections; searching through her icebox can be quite an adventure. There was no way I could throw my garbage over the wall and forget it. Peggy would hunt me down.
Then I discovered IDEP. This modest Yayasan has quietly developed several exciting and very practical environmental projects around Bali over the past few years. When I pleaded for a solution to my garbage dilemma, I discovered that IDEP had partnered with Terra Capita and come up with a great little half-day course for household pembantus and gardeners. They also design courses for homestays, restaurants and other businesses.
An Eco-Trainer first teaches your staff the basic principles of garbage separation and recycling, then they learn how to manage a domestic compost pile. IDEP can even supply a pest-proof metal compost container and delivers carbon material to keep it smelling sweet. Suddenly your garbage is reduced by over half as kitchen scraps are turned into fertilizer for your garden. The Eco-Trainer calls your staff one week and then one month after the training to ensure that the new operation is problem-free.
Your staff is given literature in two languages. One sheet explains in words and drawings how to maintain the compost. Another gives details of a new program by Bali Buddha to collect plastic and paper from your home every week for recycling. (They even supply stylish cloth bags on bamboo frames to store the stuff in the meantime.) Another measurable portion of your household waste is off your hands.
Now that you have a healthy compost pile, what are you going to do with all that fertilizer? IDEP/TerraCapita offer a course to train your staff to make a small, organic kitchen garden or, if you prefer, a team of Eco-Trainers will come and put in a herb and vegetable garden for you and show your staff how to maintain it. There is even a course on worm farming.
For only a hundred thousand rupes my pembantu Wayan got a crash course in environmental sustainability, the volume of my household waste has been reduced by about 75% and I acquired the reputation of a certifiable eccentric. Talk about value for money.
Balinese visitors now watch in amazement as Wayan carefully washes a yogurt pot and a couple of torn plastic bags. My Indonesian is still pretty basic, but I can follow the conversation by its context. "Why are you washing the garbage?" "Ibu saves it." "What for?" "People come in a truck and take it away." "Why?" "Recycle." And Wayan goes into her routine on waste separation.
Her friend glances at me out of the corner of her eye. I know she has heard the story of how I once bought a new jemuran at Delta and left its large cardboard wrapper on the counter. ("Ibu, box is where?" "I left it at the store." "But Ibu, naked!") She may have heard the market ladies talking about the way I decline their plastic bags and put my chillies and limes straight into a cloth bag, naked. Yes, one crazy Ibu.
But Wayan now runs our household on very environmentally correct lines. Every once in a while she will come across a piece of paper I have inadvertently tossed in the kitchen bin. "Ibu, recycle!" she reminds me gently.
