IT’S GARBAGE TIME IN TAIPEI

Pre-game Analysis

They’re fast. They’re sharp. They’re the most efficient. They arrive the earliest and are the last to leave. They’re punctual, accurate, and cooperative. A quarter to the event is the time they assemble. Upon arrival, they help each other put down their bags at the precise location , then they gather in the least noticeable corner. Though they come from Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines, they seem to have no problem communicating with one another. Averaging around 5 feet tall, these tiny ladies usually carry a much heavier load as individuals than anyone else at the scene, and they also perform the best in the paint. There seems to be consent for a unified outfit among them: hair pulled back into a ponytail, a washed-out, hand-me-down T-shirt with an oversized cartoon character in the front, denim trousers that wrap to the ankles and showcase the rear, and a pair of flat-bottom open-toe flip-flops that are sometimes a tad too small for their already small feet. The only occasional accessory is an umbrella. They wear no more or less in freezing cold or scourging hot.

The second group that arrives is “the Dudes”. These are not your average healthy buffed sunny boys with six packs; these are 60-odd-year-old Dudes with men boobs and walking canes. Watching how slow and clumsy they are, one might find it difficult to imagine that, 5 decades ago, these Dudes were lean mean killing machines who believed they were fighting for freedom and democracy. Some of these veterans left their families behind in China and moved to Taiwan with Chiang during the war. Most of them ended up marrying Taiwanese women and starting new families. However, if they’re out here at the scene, that usually suggests celibacy. Let me tell ya, no wives would ever allow their husbands to be walking around in blue-n-white striped PJ bottoms with a big hole in the crouch area that opens and closes as they walk.

There’s always immediate tension in the group of the tiny ladies as soon as the Dudes arrive. First they change the group formation into a horseshoe with the opening gap facing the general direction where the Dudes are. They take turns keeping an eye out while carrying on a lively conversation in Tagalog-Thai-Bahasa-Indonesia. The Dudes also keep an eye on the tiny ladies, but they do so in a much creepier, “you-don’t-wanna-know-what-goes-through-their-minds” kind of way. It’s kind of like what goes on between boys and girls in 6^th or 7^th grade. The only difference is that the tiny ladies here are more on-guard than gigglish when a Dude approaches them.

If you’re unfortunate enough to be caught in the midst of this awkward unfamiliarity that makes you doubt your physical and mental whereabouts, not to worry. There are always a few cuckoos at the scene to remind you of your rightful existence and to offer comfort to your self-realization.

When you can hear Ludwig van Beethoven’s Fur Elise but can’t see the yellow garbage truck yet, that’s when the housewives show up. They give out this false confidence with their perm short hair and newly applied lipstick. You may also identify them by the clunking of high-heeled slippers or the shrieking of exaggerated high-pitch voices echoing in narrow laneways. Unlike the tiny ladies, the Taiwanese and Mainlander housewives only greet one of their own. Amazingly, however, they all do it in an equally superficial way. As a group, these housewives adopt a superior and standoffish attitude toward the tiny ladies. They look down on them because of their race and skin color. At the same time, they’re jealous of the ladies for their more youthful (but curvy) figures. Each of these wives has heard about someone’s husband sleeping with a tiny lady. Every night at garbage time, these wives’ beliefs that their own husbands will not be able to resist the temptation are strengthened by the slimy smirks on the Dudes’ faces. That’s why these wives would rather be out here dumping their own garbage than hire a tiny lady as help at home.

Show Time

There are usually two recycling trucks leading the way, followed by a gigantic yellow stink generator. In garbage-collector academy, the following is a list of items that the aspired were trained to do:

1. ALWAYS charge at the crowd of human flesh at an incredible speed before coming to a sudden halt.

2. NEVER get off the truck. Stay on high ground while the common populace gather and present their offerings.

3. When you read “utter”, “talk” or “say” in this list, we mean SHOUT at deafening volumes.

4. UTTER some unintelligible gibberish at persons who dare asking questions.

5. SWITCH to Taiwanese when talking to foreigners, who are usually here to study Mandarin. See also #4.

6. IGNORE any persons who smile at you. If they’re really that nice, they won’t mind waiting until you’re ready to deal with them at your convenience.

7. INSULT people’s intelligence by grabbing the cans and bottles out of their hands while reminding them today is Monday [1].

8. OFFER HELP only to young and attractive females.

9. DO EVERYTHING for the young and attractive females if they massage your male ego with high-pitched whiny voices.

10. LEAVE the scene at the same speed you arrive. DISREGARD the safety of persons who might be running alongside and banging on the truck.

Performance blow-by-blow

The tiny ladies are first up. They’ve rehearsed the routes so many times that they could do it with blindfolds. They know exactly where the truck would stop, so they locate their bags in the spot that allows them to penetrate into the paint without running into the compose barrels. They run in, get the job done, and regroup back in their corner before the truck completely stops.

In comparison, the Dudes and the housewives are embarrassing to watch. As soon as the garbage truck comes to a complete stop, they pick up the garbage bags in the way a person allergic to cats would pick up a cat. They use the bags as shields to disgust anyone in front of them out of the way, as well as to fight off anybody who approaches from the sides. They storm toward the truck with their shoulders bunched up and their noses wrinkled. As much as they wish no one would touch them in any way, they would blindly and mercilessly elbow you just below the ribcage if you get in their way. Should a pointy heel land on your big toe during all this chaos, you can pretty much expect the owner of the heel to totally ignore you and treat you in such a way that makes you wonder if you’ve turned transparent somewhere along the line.

No one can shoot a 3-point because Taipei City Government designed the garbage bags to be strong enough for you to hold but not quite strong enough to hold everything in. The goal is to dump the garbage and get out somewhat clean. No one’s keeping scores on the sidelines anyhow.

Post-game Wrap-up

The crowd gradually disperses after the yellow stink generator has left. The housewives leave as soon as the only reason for them to pretend to be nice to one another is no longer present. Shuffling their feet one in front of the other, Dudes with walking canes slowly make their way back to where nostalgia of a much more glorious time resides. The young attractive females hurry off to a much different crowd in the east side of town and the crazies wander off to their own worlds in the farside. The tiny ladies linger until the absolute last minute before heading toward the direction of their employers’ houses. In pairs or threes, they talk fast while walking slowly. While most of us consider garbage collection time to be a drag, these 15, 20 minutes are the only time when these ladies get to socialize and be themselves, away from their employers’ reach.

[1] Cans and bottles are collected every Tuesday and Thursday. Mondays and Fridays are paper and plastic.