In the U.S. you take the trash out to the curb once a week and it's collected. Here in Zambia, a crucial element in this system is lacking. The government doesn't pay anybody to clean up the trash. This translates to garbage being virtually ubiquitous. In the streets, in the gutters, in the bushes. Often people will dispose of their own trash by burning it. Everywhere you go, people are burning piles of trash. Even before you see the smoke rising, inevitably the smell of burnt peanuts wafts to your nose. I don't know why I have such a strong association with this smell as peanuts specifically, but there is nothing to be done about it. Charred peanuts have inscribed themselves in my nasal passages when it comes to the putrid smoke that infects a surprisingly large area around the fire.



This picture was taken on the side of a dirt thoroughfare leading to Mtendere, one of the poorer compounds in Lusaka. Sometimes you'll see kids sifting through the rubbish looking for something to put in their mouth, edible or otherwise. My friend Gesh asked me if there was anything like this in U.S. He was furious at the Zambian government for allowing this to be the standard of the capital city. Witnessing the amount of trash every and anywhere has made me realize how little I know about what really happens to trash after we take it to the curb, but it must be at least a semi-sufficient solution compared to the waste problem here.