Shifts with the people who collect the garbage of Athens

Nestled low on Iera Odos, just beyond the Eleonas metro station, sits the Cleaning Department of the Municipality of Athens.

The building, aged and unattractive, is painted in a drab shade of grey. Outside, and extending into the backdrop, small and large garbage trucks are parked.

It’s past nine in the evening and the city is once again in the grip of a cold spell. The air is heavy with the acrid scent of burnt rubber and oil.

Despite the late hour, one of the halls facing the street, illuminated against the night, is brimming with people. Most are clad in vibrant orange or yellow jackets and reflective vests.

These are the sanitation workers and evening shift drivers, readying themselves to venture out onto the streets to collect the day’s discarded refuse.

While they were gathering the oversized trash strewn around the dumpster, a syringe punctured the bag. The next stop was the hospital. Several colleagues have fallen ill after being pricked by syringes

Here, I have Lycurgus and Joy waiting for me. I’m about to board their garbage truck to experience firsthand something I’ve always known: just how grueling and challenging their job truly is.

Lykourgos has been serving the Municipality of Athens for a decade, always on the same shift, in the 1st district. Omonia, Exarchia, Kolonaki, Syntagma. When I inquire about the job’s challenges, he interrupts me abruptly.

“The challenges are countless, no matter how you slice it. We’ve faced threats – attacked while collecting garbage, attempts to snatch our bags right from the driver’s seat.

We’ve witnessed cars being vandalized before our eyes, women assaulted.

Some residents also pose issues. We aim to do our job efficiently and effectively. We head out in the morning, they yell at us. We head out at noon, they yell again. We head out at night, and still, they yell.”

Hara has been a sanitation worker since 2009 and joined the Municipality of Athens four years ago through a transfer. She is a mother of two young children.

As she confides in me, her husband suffered a debilitating industrial accident while working for another municipality and is now quadriplegic. This is why she has opted for the night shift.

“Workplace accidents are a significant concern. I recently injured my hand. This job is even more challenging for us women since we lack the physical strength of men.

I chose the night shift because I need to get the kids ready for school in the morning and take care of my husband. When it comes to earning a living, you don’t have the luxury to be picky about the nature of the work.

We don’t mind collecting trash. For us, it’s just another day at the office.”

Their shift is about to begin and will last for six hours, perhaps even longer.

Each garbage truck is tasked with emptying approximately 140-150 bins. That’s why there are two trips per shift.

Once the truck is loaded to capacity (a garbage truck can hold approximately 7 tons), it departs for the transfer station on Kifissou Avenue to unload.

Afterward, it returns to undertake the second trip.

However, crime and workplace accidents aren’t the only challenges faced by sanitation workers.

“The amount of dirt and bulky trash is overwhelming. There are syringes lying around,” says Joy, with Lycurgus adding: “People are discarding trash from their balconies, everything and anything. Even the recycling bins are filled with non-recyclable items. I’ve seen waste incorrectly disposed of. We, as a society, can do better. The bin is empty and closed, yet they leave the garbage outside.”

In the midst of our conversation, we’re approached by the garbage truck driver, Nektarios. A large man with a resonant voice. It’s time to start the shift.

Our vehicle is parked a short walk away from the Sanitation Department. It’s one of the 25 new, high-tech garbage trucks recently acquired by the City of Athens, and we’re among the first non-staff members to step inside.

As the four of us squeeze into the driver’s cabin, Nektarios jokingly asks me if I’ve ever been on the “ship of love” before.

I respond with a “no,” but I’m momentarily reminded of the times we used to refer to it as such in the army, a duty I did everything possible to avoid.

Then he ensures we’re comfortably seated. “Well, it’s not like we’re going on a trip,” Joy retorts. “If we were on a trip, I’d take you sightseeing right now,” he replies, laughing.

After a while, we arrive at Sina, and Lycurgus and Joy put on their gloves and begin collecting the trash. Thankfully, the rain that had been falling all day has ceased. They’ll soon forget about the cold.

Nektarios has been working as a garbage truck driver for the past ten years. He’s been assigned to various projects (that’s what they call the routes) and has witnessed a lot.

“I’ve seen it all. In downtown Athens, in Omonia, I’ve seen a lot. Plenty of crime. I’ve witnessed people getting assaulted on the job, colleagues being pricked with a syringe discarded by a drug addict.

While they were collecting the scattered trash around the dumpster, the syringe pierced through. Immediately, they had to be rushed to the hospital. Several colleagues who have been pricked with syringes have fallen ill.

I’ve also had people attempt to rob me. They’ve opened the passenger door to steal from me. Okay, I fought back as best as I could. I pushed him, he fell, I closed the door, I locked it,” says Nektarios, and trust me, you wouldn’t want to mess with him.

The garbage truck quickly leaves Akademias and turns onto Kolonaki. There, things get more challenging. The truck struggles to navigate through the narrow alleys. Thankfully, it’s a weekday; on Fridays and Saturdays, the situation is significantly worse.

“The issue of cars illegally parked, blocking the streets, is a major problem, especially in the smaller lanes,” he explains.

“There have been times when I couldn’t enter an alley, got stuck, and had to wait until 5 or 6 in the morning for the car owner to come and move his vehicle.”

“Can’t you call the traffic police at that time?” I ask him. “Sure, I can,” he responds, “but there are situations where they can’t do much.”

“Even if the traffic police arrive and take down the license plates, what then? Perhaps the tow truck can’t even get in. So, you’re left with no choice but to wait.”

The Sanitation Department’s patrol car follows us for a while, so the honking from the cars behind us is kept to a minimum.

I express my annoyance when someone honks at a garbage truck (except in emergencies, of course) and mention it to Nectarios.

“It bothers me too. I understand, who wants to be stuck behind a garbage truck? But a little understanding wouldn’t hurt. We’re not blocking the road for a coffee break.

We’re doing the job that the department and the state have assigned us. The public wants us to pick up the garbage without blocking the street.

I agree. That’s what I would want as a citizen too, but there are certain inconveniences that come with this job.”

Our garbage truck collects organic waste, that is, from the green bins. As we pass a blue bin, I ask Nektarios if Athenians recycle. He shakes his head.

“They throw away everything except recyclables. Even dead animals. I recall a time when I was working in Koukaki. A woman came out of a convenience store and tossed some boxes into the organic bin, even though there was a recycling bin right next to it.

I stopped her and politely said, “Excuse me, ma’am, if you have boxes made of recyclable material, why not throw them in the blue bin?” “Why,” she replied, “am I being paid to do this job?” I apologized for the inconvenience and left. There was no point in wasting more time explaining. What could I possibly say to her?

Of course, I don’t lump everyone together. I see people carrying two bags and sorting their waste into the bins, but a large percentage simply don’t recycle.”

I soon bid farewell to Nectarios and join the control car trailing the garbage truck. Inside are Mr. Yannis, a seasoned driver with extensive experience in the cleaning service, and Panagiotis, a collection supervisor for the 1st apartment.

As we exchange introductions, a private car zips past the garbage truck. I comment that their job seems far more dangerous than I initially thought.

“Collection is a profession. These guys are fighting a battle every day. Collecting trash is a challenging task, yet the public is largely uninformed about the difficulties that come with it.

“If people understood the issues these workers face, they might be more considerate in their daily activities, both at home and in public spaces,” says Panagiotis.

Suddenly, a cloud of dust billows out from the back of the garbage truck, engulfing Lycurgus and Joy. “Look at what they’ve thrown away,” exclaims Mr. John.

Someone must have discarded dirt or sawdust, which has caused a dust cloud to envelop them. They are not equipped with masks.

I ask them about the most challenging route in downtown Athens. They both respond, “7.” This route includes streets such as Meandrou, Euripides, Lycurgos, Zenonos, Satovriandou, and Veranzerou. They refer to the sanitation workers who tackle this route as “warriors.”

“Last month, in Theatre Square on Anaxagora, three tons of raw meat and bones were dumped,” says Mr. John. “In the bins and on the street. We had to bring in a loader to handle it. No one would come near. The smell was unbearable. It should not have been dumped there.”

While conversing with Mr. Yannis and Panagiotis, the garbage truck comes to a halt. Lycurgus and Joy are struggling to maneuver a bin from the side of the road, over the pavement, as a car has parked directly in front of it.

If they accidentally hit the parked car, they could face repercussions. However, if they leave the bin without emptying it, they may receive a complaint from a passerby. It’s a lose-lose situation.

As we leave Kolonaki at Vasilissis Sofias, I realize it’s time to part ways. Regardless, they will continue working until dawn or as long as necessary.

I call Lycurgus to bid farewell. He’s busy carrying bags; he hasn’t stopped running since he started his shift.

He approaches me and jokes, “Leaving already? Stick around and we’ll show you more of what it’s like to be a sanitation worker.” I give his arm a squeeze as he’s unable to shake hands. I wave goodbye to Joy and Nektarios from a distance.

On the way home, as I reflect on the day’s events, a childhood memory resurfaces.

Because of my disinterest in reading, I was often told that I would end up as a garbage collector. At the time, I didn’t know how to respond and remained silent.

Now, I would tell them that I couldn’t possibly do the job. Because trash collection is a task for the few who are strong and resilient.