Easy Come

Mina towards the back is stuffed between street-dragged plastic burlap bags. Recyclables are slung over their backs like backpacks; muscles taxed. A banged-up 1980s compact pick-up truck with it’s bed piled six plastic burlap bags high delivered the plastic goods. Slipknots tie down the plastic burlap bags as the rear suspension sagged. Gergis towards the front of the frame looks at the large quantity of plastic shreds. Their meager builds are strong and robust. The heavy lifting saps their strength towards the end of their shift, but keeps their shape lean. The acrid aroma does not damper the joy found within these plastic operators. The shoebox stall packed with bulky plastic burlap bags like the rear end of a dump truck. The cusp between East waste and West waste is means. Although these workers do not receive retirement plans and high salaries like their North American counterparts at waste management. Exposure to harmful bacteria and toxic substances may bolster the immune system, but their life spans end around the time retirement begins for garbage haulers in North America. The dingy workspace is meagerly lit by a florescent tube and a few other tungsten lights. Shadows move around the hefty bags: pouring, lifting, scooping. Sometimes it takes two to make it happen.

Mina’s soiled t-shirt reads, “Easy Come.” His swift movements in the tight space get the job done. The sweat of his brow makes his face shine for a time until he goes. The repetitive work does not come easy, and the endless supply of recyclable material flowing from the streets of Cairo weigh in tonnes. The weight is more than he will earn in Egyptian pounds for the month. Around the clock plastic burlap bags are being stocked and stuffed. Direct Arabic sentences are exchanged to one another with little room for babble. Such is the life of the Zabbaleen who serve a key role in Egypt and waste little. They have the taste by knowing the Lord is good to the Zabbaleen. It’s not an easy go. Although framed in filth there is renewal in thou. A form like ours unable to wilt like a flower’s petal.