Walking back home through the tree-lined streets of the French Concession is a joy especially if it’ not cold and raining. I enjoy the lights from street lights making pools of yellow on the roads and the lights from bedrooms and TV still on, flashing into the darkness as I walk home.
However, I often despair at the amount of rubbish the locals lob into the street for the early morning street cleaners. Surely it
wouldn’t take much effort to put it in to the many rubbish bins on the street or the wheelie bins in the communities.
Rats and other animals tear these rubbish bags open looking for food and by the time the cleaner comes it’s distributed across the pavement and the road. Perhaps I see more beauty in the streets than they do. Maybe if you’ve lived here all your life, you feel you can desecrate the view with impunity. Why not fill the drains with vegetable peelings, cover the kerbs with filth and turn the pavement into a skating rink of used cooking oil. Someone will clear it up after all.
There is always someone in a high visibility jacket and a rubbish cart clearing up after those than don’t care about the look of the place.