An organic way of life

We didn't have a refrigerator at home when we were kids.  In the near-equatorial conditions, and in a vegetarian household, that meant buying vegetables practically every other day.  Because potatoes are more tolerant than most other vegetables, they were stored in a dark corner and were often the option if a guest showed up un-announced--after all, those were also the days before emails and telephones, and relatives did knock on the door without a heads-up.

For whatever reason, I liked involving myself in the kitchen affairs.  Not that I cooked back then.  But, I think I had far more interest than the typical boy did in how the food preparation happened. Perhaps my mother has forgotten me asking her questions like why we needed half-a-kilo of the vegetable and not more.  Like my grandmother, I too was always impressed with how my mother seemed to cook the exact quantity for a meal; rare was a day when we ended up with more food.

In that kind of an old lifestyle, only the needed fruits and vegetables and milk were purchased, and they were all consumed.  Food was never wasted.  Never.

I wonder if my interested involvement with those household affairs is also why I continue with some of those old practices.  Even in my life on the other side of the planet from the old country, I seem to do grocery shopping every other day.  But, hey, I rarely ever have to throw food into the trash can!

But, of course, I have the organic waste to deal with.  Everything from banana and orange peels to coffee grinds and more.  A few months ago, our garbage collection service introduced collecting food waste for recycling.  M bought me a stainless steel compost bin for the kitchen.  Into that bin goes the banana and orange peels and coffee grinds.  Thanks to all that, the regular trash bag rarely gets filled anymore even for the biweekly service!

So, of course, I was immediately drawn to this essay in The New Yorker.  It is all about recycling organics.  You know, like the food stuff and more that affluent societies casually throw out.  "South Korea recycles ninety-five per cent of its food waste."  That.Is.Amazing!!!  At the other end is New York City, for instance:

recycling of organics—food waste, yard waste, pretty much anything that rots—remains voluntary, even though such material makes up about a third of New York’s trash. All but five per cent of the city’s organic waste goes to landfills.

There is a reason that we worry about the organics that go to landfills:

Organic waste doesn’t just stink when it’s sent to landfills; it becomes a climate poison. Yes, we’ve been schooled again and again in the importance of recycling—by friends, by pious enemies, even by “Wall-E.” But the recycling of organics is arguably more important than that of plastics, metal, or paper. Composting transforms raw organic waste into a humus-like substance that enriches soil and enhances carbon capture. In landfills, starved of oxygen, decomposing organics release methane, a greenhouse gas whose warming effects, in the long run, are fifty-six times those of CO₂. The United States has greater landfill emissions than any other country, the equivalent of thirty-seven million cars on the road each year.

USA! USA! USA!

The thirteen thousand tons of food waste produced daily in South Korea now become one of three things: compost (thirty per cent), animal feed (sixty per cent), or biofuel (ten per cent). “People from other countries ask me very often, ‘How did South Korea achieve this success?’ ”

Read the essay to find out how South Korea managed to do this.  And what every one of us can do about this important issue, irrespective of where we live on this pale blue dot.

PS: The essay ends with a wonderful note on the globalized lives that we lead.  The South Korean interpreter, Lucia Lee, laments about her boyfriend's problem that there's not much that he can eat in South Korea because ...  He is a Jain.  Yes, a Jain. From India.  Isn't life beautiful!