Hearing Edelweiss equals trash day

I have a stinking situation at my house.

My garbage is only being taken away about half the time. I can't figure out why and I'm left scratching my head. I didn't think this would happen to me because I follow the rules. So my trash should go away three times a week. Simple as that.

Well maybe it's not so simple.

Here on Okinawa the rubbish rules are a bit more rigorous than my previous housing locations.

First of all we need to divide our waste material into two separate bags. One bag is for burnable waste and the other one is for nonburnable items. Luckily the housing company gave us a pamphlet illustrating what to do with common household items. I often refer to it. It saves me the brain power of pondering if an aluminum can is burnable.

Secondly Japanese trash bags aren't of the Reynolds or Glad variety. We have to use clear bags. I guess the reasoning is so that the trash man can see that we are properly sorting our food scraps and candy wrappers. These clear plastic bags are sold nearly everywhere including both on-base and off-base grocery stores. Depending where you live you may be required to use clear bags printed with Kanji letters. We are one of the lucky ones. We are not required to buy the printed bags.

Finally there is a separate bag for plastic bottles, referred to as PET. The bottle's label must be removed and placed with the lid in the burnable trash.

All these rules made me weary for our first trash day six months ago. I really wanted to get it right.

That Monday morning I compared my bag placement with my neighbors. I left my bag in the street gutter, where the trash man wouldn't miss it. Then I waited for the musical notes of "Edelweiss." The garbage truck plays this “Sound of Music” tune so that you know when it is trash day. When I heard it directly in front of our townhouse, I rushed downstairs.

I was prepared to talk to the trash man. I bowed. He bowed. I nodded. He nodded. I tried to ask "is this alright?" using my Japanese for Dummies book. He smiled and placed my trash in the back of his truck. I patted myself on the back. On my first attempt I mastered the ritual of trash separation.

Everything was fine until two weeks ago.

That's when our trash started sitting in our driveway all day. And a question nagged me: What's wrong with our rubbish?

It's not like the garbage man is dismissing me. He took the time to tape a notice to my trash can. He stapled a second notice to the bag itself. But since both were written in Kanji, the written language of Japanese, it is no help. It may be written in plain English -- or should I say plain Japanese – but I can't follow the rules because I can't read the rules. It's time to put on my thinking cap.

Then last Friday we get a letter from our housing company saying that we must use “the appropriate bags” for Kadena. The answer came in English. The letter showed a picture of the bag. It's a clear bag with a picture of a turtle printed on it. I was so thankful.

I was also thankful to a patient woman at the grocery store, who took the time to point out the correct bags to me.

And I'll be most thankful if the trash man takes my garbage on Friday. His arrival will be music to my ears.