Australia’s hard rubbish culture a shock to my third-world perspective

As I walk to the neighbourhood cafe to get my cappuccino, the kerb-side is overflowing with household items: a massive TV, a rice cooker, a mattress and a bed frame, a few chairs, some kitchen utensils, and tables. I am in shock. I asked myself, “Why would people throw perfectly fine items?”

I am tempted to rescue each one. What shocks me even more is that several days later they all remain lying in the kerb-side as I walk to the cafe.

I grew up in a third-world country, the Philippines. This is something you would never see there. Old appliances are given away to someone who would need it or donated to a charity that could use it. We would sell items in the classifieds. But to leave perfectly useable items in the streets would be unthinkable. Or if you did, it would be gone in hours.

Each time I see household items left beside the road, I am aghast. I come from a culture where nothing is wasted. Old campaign tarpaulins and juice containers are made into bags. Scraps of cloth are upcycled to bathmats and potholders. This isn’t done in first-world countries.

Now as a resident in Australia, I wonder what happens to the hard waste after it is collected. Is it recycled, repurposed or reused? But before I could give it more thought, my computer monitor broke. Still under warranty, I return it to shop. They tell me it will be repaired in two weeks or so. In the meantime, I need to buy another monitor to use.

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When my laptop broke, the Apple store staff recommended replacing it instead of having the screen fixed. A new one will mean I’ll get a better and faster laptop. Plus, more time spent wasted on repairs translate to less time being productive. Time is money. Labour is also not cheap in first-world countries, so repairs are not always an affordable solution.

Our lives have become fast-paced, things have become disposable. It is quicker and more efficient to just replace things. We quickly forget about one detail. The actual thing we dispose of has to go somewhere. They don’t disappear.

Shouldn’t we make more sturdy, long-lasting products to last years? Shouldn’t we be more mindful of our purchases before making them? Shouldn’t we take greater care in making our things last longer? Shouldn’t we consider thoughtful recipients of our things before simply throwing them away?

As I walk around my neighbourhood, life goes on. No one gives a second look at the TV sitting by the road for over a week now. Perhaps, I am the only one suffering kerb-side culture shock.