It's 8.45 a.m. As every morning, I have bread, jam, some walnuts and a small piece of chocolate for breakfast. And, as every morning, I found myself unconsciously scrolling my instagram profile, looking at old pictures of funny nights with friends and listening, lost in my tought, to the words of some content creator until a post catches my attention. I feel suddenly unquiet. Some photos of a spoiled nature goes with this text:
"Waste
makes visible our separation from nature. This separation comes into
focus along Accra’s coastline where millions of secondhand
garments, the byproduct of greed made manifest in fashion’s excess,
collide with an environment that cannot absorb them.
In
2011 we were running on the beach when we tripped over a shirt sleeve
sticking out of the sand. That’s when we learned to watch out for
clothing waste.
In
2013 we were swimming when our feet landed on a pile of clothing
instead of sand. We shrieked. That’s when we stopped going to the
beach for enjoyment.
In
2016 we saw jeans, spread eagle, surfing the waves as we sat down to
have a beer by the sea. That’s when we realized that clothing waste
was traveling.
In
2019 we met fishermen who capsized because clothing pulled down their
nets. That’s when we realized that the clothing tentacles claim
livelihoods.
It’s
2021 and clothing waste is embedded in the marine ecosystem. Mounds
of clothing waste are settling on Accra’s beaches, sinking into the
sand. Clothing tentacles travel with the tides, washing up and out
with the waves. The sea spits out elastic waistbands, polyester
blouses and the stretchy skeletons of skinny jeans.
This
is when we understand that waste makes visible our separation from
nature and this is when we heal."
I wanna learn more about it: I find out that even the streets and the nature of Acca (Ghana) are suffocated by the overproduction of clothes. It was just two days ago when Zsuzsa told me that the same thing is happening in Chile, where the Atacama desert is becoming a huge open landfill. Something suddenly comes to my mind: the image of cows grazing on piles of clothes in Africa, something that happens on a daily basis in the whole continent.
I take a deep breath and I realize that
what I am doing here in Budapest is beautiful and important. Everyday
in the shop we try to find a new home for goods of all type: from
clothes to mugs, from toys to books. Recognizing the real value of
the objects means also acknowledging dignity to
those who made them, to the resources used, to those who will give
them a new life.
At the same time,
being surrounded by so many things is suffocating. Things are
everywhere and to see them in dusty Ikea bags is discouraging and
frustrating. Do we really need everything we buy? This sad view prove
that we don't and make me think about the importance of every single
choice.
Choices: I am here since three months now. I saw this city sun-kissed, covered in orange leaves, wet after a rainy day and now cold and windy. I fell in love with this city and with the people I met here. I identify myself in the lyrics of this Italian song which says: "in equilibrio perfetto fra tutto quello che ho perso e quello che ho scelto".*
Time flies and I am following my goals: every month I start a new book and I visit a new city. All of it enriches me and I can feel that something is changing inside me: Budapest is constantly changing under my eyes and me with her. I keep my consciousness under training, I reconnect with it. Tomorrow I am going to take a walk on Margaret Island. That is my way to heal.
* On the perfect balance between what I lost and what I chose.
