Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Garbage Truck

    The rumors ran rampant, did Agios and the surrounding villages really get a garbage truck? Would our garbage really be picked up biweekly? If this was true that meant no longer having to burn our trash on calm windless days, or having to dig a hole and bury it, or sneaking our garbage  to Agios and depositing it in the trash barrels of local businesses. Sure enough one quiet summer morning the ominous rumblings of a large vehicle could be heard in the far distance. As the noise drew closer I looked out my screen door to see a bright, new, orange and chrome Mercedes-Benz garbage truck, the Aegean sun bouncing off its polished veneer, slowly snaking its way down our narrow village streets... That’s when I noticed a solitary figure sitting or rather straddling freestyle on top of this huge colossus of a truck. In his hands he held a large, menacing looking chainsaw, the kind you expect to see in one of those chainsaw horror movies. As the truck lumbered forward he would yell instructions to the driver to stop, thus allowing him to cut away any unsuspecting tree branches that would dare wreak havoc on the finish of the new Mercedes-Benz garbage truck. Yes, twice a week the roar of the garbage truck, sans scratches, could be heard as it made its way down our road picking up our trash, gnawing and grinding it to bits. To my amusement I would tell, like a proud father, to my friends back in the States that our little village not only has a garbage truck, but a brand new, sweet ass Mercedes-Benz garbage truck.
    It didn’t take long for the fascination of the new garbage truck to catch on, but its regular schedule route seemed to be in jeopardy because of logistic and parking concerns. Parking on the village’s two streets is always a baffling and dauntless experience. Any car can easily block the minuscule roads if it is not properly parked and oriented in just the right angle and distance from the road.  When this happens the garbage truck becomes blocked and can’t proceed to make its pick ups. The result of this impasse would be a very long and loud horn blast from the truck informing those whose vehicles were blocking the street to make haste and quickly move their offending cars.


    A cautionary example of such a scene was played out one afternoon as I was returning home following our Mercedes-Benz garbage truck up one of the narrow and winding roads. Stopping suddenly, the truck was halted by an incorrectly parked car. The car was like a clog in the drain, the truck could not squeeze past the vehicle without falling off the road into the bramble below. The perpetrating auto did not have the two necessary tires parked on the sidewalk, so as to allow adequate space for the passage of other vehicles. Within seconds a host of cars, trucks, and three wheelers quickly jammed up behind us, horns blasting constantly in hopes of alleviating the traffic grid lock, but to no avail. The delinquent operator was no where to be seen. In a fit of desperate frustration the garbage truck driver and his helper emerged from the cab of the truck and looked around for some able bodied men. Their glance caught my eye and my two fellow passengers. With a swift and determined downward wave of the drivers’ hand, he signaled for our arguable assistance. Waiting for us at the illegally parked car, the garbage truck driver motioned for us to take a position behind the car, while he and his beefy helper would take care of the front of the vehicle. Upon the driver’s command the five of us in unison lifted the vehicle as one lifts a pillow, and seamlessly moved it about a meter, depositing it next to an adjoining wall. With the road now clear, our entourage led by the magnificent and glowing Mercedes-Benz garbage truck continued on its’ appointed route.

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