You know who they are. Almost without exception, they wear the same clothes every day. Mind you, they seem so dirty that even if they were changed, you would hardly know the difference. Mostly, they are female, but oddities exist everywhere.
More to the point, they know who you are. And they are likely more darned familiar with you and your habits than the Chinese government. At least where it counts. They know what you eat, what you drink, are “au fair” with your “waimai” delivery guys, and most importantly, they know what time you take your rubbish out.
Say hello to the the retirees who spend their days and evenings prowling residential communities, stopping at each and every bin for the treasure trove therein. Cardboard is their favourite; lightweight and easy collected, not exactly worth its weight in gold, but capable of producing more than a few “fen” and the feeling of doing something worthwhile.
With aluminium drinks cans and plastic bottles their next preferred items, these recycling grannies are the “first mile” in China’s hitherto unregulated recycling industry.
But a dark cloud now hangs on the horizon for the friendly old ladies who are always happy to see you and your refuse.
As The Nanjinger has reported over the last few months, the city shall introduce mandatory rubbish segregation by year end. Sorting and collection points are to be set up in every residential community in the city, while there will be separate plans for enterprises.
Before getting to the nitty gritty, it’s worth remembering Shanghai’s experience, as the first city in mainland China to implement a rubbish segregation scheme last year. On 1 July, the Shanghai Municipal Domestic Waste Management Regulations came into force, stating that rubbish need be separated into recyclable waste, hazardous waste, residual waste and household food waste.
While not startlingly different to recycling policies in many western countries, the move had Shanghai citizens up in arms.
Regarding the Regulations as a joke, the Shanghainese revelled in pointing out the case of milk tea. Theoretically, its recycling would entail leftover milk going down the toilet, the pearls going to household waste, the cup to residual waste and finally, the lid to recyclable waste.
In Nanjing, the plan, at least on biodegradable paper, seems to be a little more simple. According to the “Regulations on the Management of Domestic Waste in Nanjing”, the city is also implementing a four-fold classification system; recyclables, hazardous waste, kitchen waste and other waste.
Domestic waste sorting and collection points in urban residential areas shall be divided into two types, namely class I and class II. A class I collection point shall be no less than no less than 20 square metres in size and be capable of serving 300-500 households. It should be a standalone facility easily accessible by rubbish collection vehicles and ancillary utility providers.
Class II collection points will offer many of the same features and connectivity, but will be smaller, at 6-10 square metres, serving no more than 200 households.
In theory, rather than dump our rubbish in the nearest bin outside our home, or just outside our front door as some are want to do, our daily waste disposal ritual will likely involve a considerably longer walk to the nearest collection point.
In reality, it is difficult to believe that sufficient collection points will be established, especially by year end.
Furthermore, individuals who do not follow the new classification system could face a fine of ¥200, while companies can expect to be hit with anything between ¥5,000 and ¥50,000. Media has also speculated that in addition to the fine, those who disobey might also have points deducted in China’s now-infamous Social Credit System.
So this is what we are up against. But will it work? And how about our recycling grannies? Will they be out of their little earner, or will they be fined also, for interfering in the process?
That’s where we return to Shanghai for a glimpse at what’s possibly in store.
Laing Hyde is a Shanghai expat who is an ardent supporter of the city’s rubbish classification system. At least he is now. Speaking with The Nanjinger, he said, “At that moment in 2019 when rubbish-sorting hit Shanghai, it felt like the ultimate inconvenience”.
“We can now say that having rubbish-sorting is less inconvenient than having a virus pandemic.
“Yes, we need to keep two or three different bin bags in our house now. And we have to walk a little further through our gated community before dumping those bags. But we don’t need to worry about fixed time windows for collection; the big bins are useable when unmanned, and emptied frequently enough to prevent overflows.
“And the initial fears about surveillance cameras punishing us for wrongful dumping haven’t been borne out (yet).”
As for the grannies, the Shanghai variety is a sturdy, entrepreneurial breed. While there are now fewer public bins, they are still regularly tapped for booty. Others who are involved report that the grannies now negotiate directly with the community sorters, as the official sorter likely has no direct financial stakes in the rubbish being collected.
Institutions, on the other hand, had a decision to face last year. Should they pass the burden of trash separation onto their staff and customers, or should they handle the separation in-house?
Early indications have suggested that Shanghai residents must be at least as disciplined when outside the home as in; McDonalds, for example, temporarily had separate bins for different trash.
Since then, most public places in Shanghai have seem to have settled on a simplified trash-separation system.
In many work places, the only criterion for separation is “dry” and “wet”. While appearing simpler, the process in fact requires back-breaking separation work by cleaning staff after every food-delivery window.
If all this is any indication of where Nanjing may be headed, we may be seeing the year out as we saw it in, with another fundamental shift in our way of life. For the grannies, they are experienced enough to know that the only constant in China is change.
While no system is perfect, it cannot be denied that changes in Nanjing’s methods of waste disposal are now an absolute necessity. But are the proposed plans more of a mere attempt at paying lip service to the concept of recycling?
Back in Shanghai, Hyde concluded, “From the perspective of this resident, it feels like a step in the right direction”.
