Throwing Out People's Stuff

Packing light is easy for a weekender trip; it's difficult when you're settling for a year or two or less.

Take my old shared flat. 

A few guys took out the original lease, then transferred the lease – and furniture – to others when they moved on. Then those guys passed on their lease, and on it went until I came along.

At least eleven tenants – including, who I know of, a Canadian (me), a Brit, a Portuguese, an Argentinian, a Venezuelan, a Brazilian, a couple of French – have lived in my old shared apartment. 

When it was time for me to move on, the landlord company decided they had enough of changing people's name on the lease – and keeping the rent at the same price. It was time to move out, not just move on.

I spent the better part of August clearing it out those tenants' accumulated possessions they left behind. There was a kitchen full of stuff, a bedroom that served as a storage room, and actual storage room in the basement. All filled with stuff from people who came to the Dorf and then moved on elsewhere. 

There were beds, tables, and wardrobes to be sold or given away. Deep in the basement storage room, I discovered another desk, a bed, and two coffee tables among boxes and bags of odds and ends that belonged to tenants long moved out. It was like roommate archeology. 

The furniture could have been sold, but I figured it was was better to give it away to the million refugees in Germany. It seemed like the proper, and admittedly easier, thing to do. 

No charity would pick up furniture, despite being on the ground floor. One simply told its facebook friends about it. Another told me I must bring my furniture to them. All that was picked up was some kitchen stuff, a table, and some wardrobes.

I had helped a few refugees, but as many as I had hoped, and I faced the prospect of putting perfectly fine furniture to the curb. 

You cannot just put your stuff out on garbage day. There are specific days and, if you can't wait for those specific days, you have to fill out a form (because it's Germany) for Sperrmüll, or the bulk garbage pick-up.

It's still not that easy. You can only put out maximum five items, otherwise you must pay. I had a flat of items, well over the five limit.

I booked the free pick-up anyway and I put out over a dozen items a few days before. I hoped thrifty Germans would whittle the pile down before the garbage guys would come.

As I painted – remember, it's a ground floor apartment – I could see passers-by poking through the boxes, flipping through the romance novels, eyeing the kitchen bric-a-brac, appraising the coffee tables. The thrifty Germans came through, and stuff disappeared.

Our very own spring cleaning...
in the late summer. 

Purging Stuff in Budapest

On the right day, take a walk in a Budapest district and witness a sight: Furniture, old newspapers, books, lamps, electronics, punching bags, knick knacks and schnick schnack all piled on the sidewalks and curbs. 

You will see people hovering over their prizes, claiming them before their ride comes to pick it up, glaring at passers-by who linger to long over their claimed pile.

This is Lomtalanítás, Budapest's bulk garbage day that makes it rounds district by district through Budapest.

Kata and I had only a few days while we were visiting a few weeks ago to clear out her apartment for a renovation, so there would be no Lomtalanítás for us. There was also no time to put things on the internet and wait for someone to come along and buy them. Kata's stuff had to go fast.

Once again it was archeology. Everything was dug out, sorted, and its fate was decided as quickly as possible. There were eight years of habitation to go through. The stuff that was to be kept – books, art, mementos – went into boxes and was set aside. The stuff that was nice – more clothes, some books, kitchen stuff – but for keeping were bagged or boxed and walked down the street around the corner to a second-hand store, where these items were happily received by the proprietor.

The rest was bagged or boxed or simply set just outside the apartment and was picked up by a junk man, who undoubtedly sold the stuff worth selling later. It was like our own little Lomtalanítás for this one guy.

Me and My Stuff

You might have noticed all this stuff belonged to others. I am also guilty of some mild hoarding.

I came over to Europe four years ago with a backpack, a rolly-wheely duffle, and a hockey bag. I have added another bag, but got rid of the hockey bag due to airline size restrictions, while still trying to limit my possessions to what I can fit into my bags. I failed.

Over time, despite my minimalist tendencies, I have still managed to accumulate stuff over the years, clothes, mementos, books, have all been picked up and kept. And that's just here in Europe. I have furniture and kitchen stuff spread across a couple of basements in London, Ontario that await a verdict on their fate.

Despite the urge to limit my possession, there seems to still be a tendency to put down roots, spread out my stuff, and get comfortable.