Many students have embraced the practice of “dumpster diving” as an alternative to other, more strenuous methods of obtaining food, such as trapping small rodents or harvesting crabapples in the Experimental Farm. Others are drawn to the practice for environmental reasons.
Whatever their motives might be, students need to take a moment — before they strap on their snorkels and dive headfirst into the nearest dumpster — to consider a few things.
First and foremost, despite the resemblance, a dumpster is different from a McDonald’s PlayPlace plastic-ball pit in several key respects. Do not be fooled by the brightly-coloured bags and stray French fries; a bed of broken glass, discarded needles and/or used condoms might lie beneath.
Frolic at your own risk.
One must also be wary of anything salvaged from the trash. Wash that apple twice. Bleach those sheets before using. And that iPod’s probably no longer under warranty.
While it is technically not a criminal offence, Ottawa municipal bylaw officers do not look kindly upon the practice. Other individuals who might take issue with your scavenging include property owners upset over trespassing, raccoons who live in the dumpsters, CSIS operatives harvesting identity information, and rival students jostling for choice goods. A good way to defuse many potential conflicts is to exercise proper dumpster etiquette. Always be a conscientious diver. Clean up after yourself.
Dumpster diving is a cutthroat occupation, requiring dedication, perseverance and multiple tetanus shots. Do not be discouraged by the inevitable setbacks and raccoon bites. With a flashlight, a keen eye and a pair of nose plugs, spending Friday nights waist-high in the discarded refuse of society might be a lot of fun.
Happy diving! (Oh, and seriously, beware of the raccoons. They can be vicious critters.)