What we waste

I first developed a desire to dumpster dive in 2006 while reading an article in Sojourners magazine. It really made sense to me, but when I told others about the idea their reactions were less enthusiastic.

"Why would you want to dumpster dive?" (i.e. you have enough money to buy perfectly good food)

"Ew," and "Sketchy" were other common responses.

But remember when you were a kid and someone told you, "Finish your vegetables. There are starving kids in Africa." I remember thinking, whether or not I eat my vegetables, the problem of starvation will not be solved.

And then there is the issue of so much waste. 

Perfectly good food must be thrown away by grocery stores everyday. The reasons for taking items off the shelves are good enough. It's just that there are starving kids in the U.S. as well. Sometimes those kids are right down the street from a dumpster full of rejected edibles.

Some businesses and even cities are good at putting our excess into hungry hands. For example, in San Luis Obispo a program of volunteers called Food Share collects left overs at the end of the day from Golden China Buffet, Mondeo's and two Starbucks. Then the volunteers drive over to the homeless shelter and drop off the food. Only four businesses are visited, but the amount of food that would otherwise end up in the trash is amazing.

Another reason to dumpster dive (besides being cheap or - ehem - on a budget) is as part of a simpler lifestyle. Or, if you're like me, just do it for the adventure.

Tonight two of my roommates and I had our own dumpster diving excursion. Two of us had been talking about it all year. And this is one reason why I love living in community with people who are committed to social justice: they will do crazy things with me!

Now in case you are considering your own venture out into the nighttime world of supermarket back alleys, beware that it may take several snooping attempts before any loot is found. In our case, we visited three stores in two different towns without finding anything more than cardboard, unpackaged raw chicken and hamster poop. At one point we accidentally locked ourselves into the cinderblock wall surrounding a dumpster. One of my roommates had to scale the wall out and unlatch the gates.

At our fourth stop, we climbed into the dumpster and finally found what we were looking for: salad, eggs, cookies and grapes. I especially loved the four bouquets of partly wilted flowers lying amongst the frozen meatballs and broken basket. We put them on our dining room table as a bright and fragrant monument to our very first dumpster diving experience.

Photo: our flowers!

Flowers Bloom in the City

Springtime is probably my favorite in Fresno. 

The weather stays in the 60s during the day. The sun falls softly on the sidewalks. 

It is the best time to walk down L St or Fulton Mall or over to the water tower. It is the best time to ride your bike over the 99 to the West Side and see flowers blooming in empty lots by the railroad tracks.

Yes. I love springtime in Fresno.

Yesterday we met some of our neighbors from across the street. Three little girls came over to draw with sidewalk chalk. We played tic-tac-toe and drew rainbows. I showed one four-year-old how to spell her name. We had cart wheel and hand stand contests. And we laughed.

This is why I moved to Fresno. I mean, this is not a holistic picture of why. It is a snapshot: sharing a spring afternoon full of joy with three little girls from the city.

photo by M. A. Debenedetto, chalk drawing by an eight-year-old

How much we have to be grateful for

For some reason I have always felt an inner cringe when people see some condition of poverty and say, "It makes me think about how much I have to be grateful for." Not knowing how else to respond, I usually just hmm. But today I was reflecting on the year long clothing fast I am about to complete in a couple months and the idea of gratefulness came up again.

Yes, I am grateful that I have a jacket to wear in the winter and clean underwear. I am grateful that if a hole rips in one of my shirts, I have others I can wear. But the result of this fast has not so much been to make me grateful for all that I have but to make me critical.

When I hear about a child in my neighborhood who does not have a winter coat, I am not immediately thankful for what I have. Instead I think of the three or four coats hanging in my parent's entry closet - the ones that have not been touched for years. When I look at another person's need I am not thankful for my comfort, but mindful of my excess.

This is not to say that I always respond in a practical way to the needs I see. There, I am quite guilty. Since I have not made a resolution this year, I will now resolve to respond practically to at least one need I see a month. Feel free to keep me accountable. And as always, feel free to make a counter argument. Perhaps you think I do not give due credit to thankfulness.