Confessions of a So-Called Environmentalist

I like to consider myself environmentally conscious. I'll be the first to admit, however, that I don't always practice what I preach. For example, I never recycled in my apartment in New York because I couldn't tell the recycle bin from the trash bin in front of our building. (Judging by the assortment of items in there, I don't think any other tenant could either.) But at least I was putting things in a trash can. I never litter or just toss my trash to the wind.

The other day I was shopping in Dehradun's Palthan Bazaar with my teacher friends from the school, Sapna and Premjodt. We stopped to get ice cream bars and walked as we ate. Long after we were finished, Premjodt turned to me and asked, "Lindsey, why are you still carrying around that stick," pointing to the licked-dry wooden ice cream stick. Then she promptly ripped it from my hands and tossed it on the ground. I shrugged sheepishly and stammered, "I guess I was just waiting until I found a garbage can." She shook her head and said, "Lindsey, this is India. Everywhere is the garbage can."