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A love letter to Taiwan's meticulous — and frustrating — trash collection system

SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

This next story is a love letter to trash - specifically, Taiwan's trash collection system. NPR's Emily Feng has been reporting from the Asian island for NPR for the last couple of years, and while there, she's developed an unexpected fondness for taking out the garbage.

EMILY FENG, HOST:

When I first moved into my Taipei apartment, the real estate agent told me I'd need to take out my own trash. The catch is you can't just throw out trash in Taiwan. It must be meticulously pre-sorted, then disposed of during five- to eight-minute windows just once a day. I don't have time for that, I spluttered. I anticipated long work days and lots of reporting trips. So I tried to hire someone to take out my trash for me, which is a whole industry in Taiwan, but I kept striking out. And so running to catch the trash truck every few days became part of my routine.

(Speaking non-English language).

So much so that I planned dinners around coming home in time to make the trash window.

OK, so this bag is not very full, so maybe we leave that for next time.

I'm teaching my sister Kathleen here - still a trash amateur.

OK, so it comes every day at 5:05 and 9:32 p.m. except for Wednesdays and Sundays. And the paper recycling only comes Mondays and Fridays. The other days are plastics and metals recycling.

Got that? Taiwan requires you to separate compost, plastics and metals, plastic wrapping, paper and cardboard, and regular trash, which must be bundled in special blue bags in Taipei.

Watch out.

Given the trash collection trucks only linger for a few minutes outside each building, you've really got to be ready to dash out as soon as you hear them.

(SOUNDBITE OF TRASH TRUCK PLAYING "FUR ELISE")

FENG: In my neighborhood, their approach is helpfully heralded by the tinkle of "Fur Elise." So whenever I hear Beethoven's piano composition off in the distance, I break out into a cold sweat and look wildly around me, trying to gather my many bags of sorted garbage and hustle outside. Next to the trucks, my neighbors have already wordlessly cued up. I admire their silent aggression - everyone trying to throw in their trash first and then rush back home.

(SOUNDBITE OF TRASH TRUCK PLAYING "FUR ELISE")

FENG: Taiwan is an island of towering volcanoes and swampy valleys. But so extensive is the trash collection service and so pervasive is the sound of "Fur Elise," I've heard it waft through the air while hiking trails I thought were remote.

(SOUNDBITE OF BEEPING)

FENG: For all of the anxiety I had about getting the trash right in Taiwan, I grew to love it. It's efficiency, the order and the rigidity of the system - probably things a therapist would say I lacked but craved in my own life. I found a grim satisfaction lining up behind my neighbors with their huge bags of garbage.

Yeah, just throw the cardboard.

(SOUNDBITE OF CRUNCHING PLASTIC)

FENG: Weighed down with garbage of my own, within a few weeks of living in Taipei, I had memorized the trash schedule. I became one of the regulars. After a decade of wandering in Asia, always the outsider from one new place to the next, I realized I had come to belong - rooted down enough to at least throw out my own trash.

Emily Feng, NPR News, Taipei, Taiwan.

(SOUNDBITE OF BEETHOVEN'S "FUR ELISE: BAGATELLE IN A MINOR") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Emily Feng is NPR's Beijing correspondent.