I was walking through one of the covered shopping arcades this past weekend in Matsuyama City when I came across a green booth dedicated to neighborhood cleanup projects and overall environmental awareness.
Before I knew it, one of the volunteers had handed me a plastic bag and salad bar variety pinchers and told me to go pick up some trash. I was all set to put on my best "Me no speaky the Japanesey" face and return the items to him out of sheer laziness, when a single word caught my attention: "prize."
You said what about a prize now?
As was explained to me, all I had to do was collect stray trash items off the ground as I walked my way through the arcade. Once I ended up in front of the large department store at the end of the corridor, I could trade in my bag of rubbish for a special prize.
This was all it took to set me off scavenging the ground like a stray dog. I chuckled to myself as I thought of those who littered. Fools! Their trash would literally become my treasure. However, as it turns out, a full day's worth of shoppers all scavenging for trash makes for one clean shopping street.
There was virtually no trash to be found. A toothpick, an eyelash...give me SOMETHING!!!
Nothing.
I suddenly became quite anxious. What would happen if I reached the end of the line and was unable to present the volunteer with even the smallest fragment of waste? I dreaded the disappointed look on the volunteer's face. I dreaded even more the thought that I might be denied my prize.
While waiting at a crosswalk I picked up a crinkled leaf and tucked it into my pocket for backup. I immediately began brainstorming ways to defend my find in Japanese should the volunteer balk at my submission. I got as far as, "Leaf = trash, you understand that punk?"...when...
JACKPOT!!! I spot an honest-to-goodness cigarette butt tucked behind a folding sign out front a drugstore. I had to ask the clerk restocking the outside display to step aside so I could reach the crown jewel with my plastic pinchers.
Knowing that there was no way I could be denied my prize, I marched up to the ending booth and proudly thrust my hands forward. My tiny cigarette butt was floating in a giant ocean of plastic bag, but I didn't care. I was beaming!
I made sure to enthusiastically point out my find to the volunteer. He seemed less than thrilled. If I had had one, I would have taken a picture of the cigarette butt out of my wallet and launched into the following conversation. "You know, last week my little cigarette butt here did the cutest damn thing..."
I asked the volunteer's advice as to which receptacle I should put it in. But, try as I might, I couldn't actually make the pinchers grasp the tiny butt, so I was unable to transfer it into the trash can when prompted. After fumbling for what seemed like a full minute, the volunteer grabbed my entire bag and unceremoniously threw it in the bin.
Where were the balloons? The band? The photo shoot with the mayor?
I was so shocked by the casual dismissal of my holy offering that I barely noticed the volunteer handing me my gift.
I tore open the small pouch.
My face contorted as I saw the prize. There in my hands was one additional plastic trash bag, folded neatly into a tiny square. The green lettering on the pouch encouraged me to use said bag around my neighborhood and keep the trash pickup spirit alive.
I made sure to throw away my gift in the proper bin before leaving.
B.E.W.