Fireworks and firecrackers have long since become a tradition for many Germans on New Year’s Eve. According to a survey by the German Press Agency, one in ten Germans will spend 50 Euro or more on pyrotechnics. However, the fireworks, which have long been controversial, cause one thing above all else in addition to fine dust pollution and noise: waste. The remains of New Year’s Eve are often still piled up on the streets days after the New Year’s Eve celebrations. Street cleaning work begins on New Year’s Eve to get on top of the garbage. A Sisyphean task on New Year’s Day.
Silence reigns at the waste disposal site in Dortmund. It’s New Year’s Eve. Nothing can be heard of the rockets and firecrackers that were set off a few hours ago, even very close to the yard; only a slightly burnt smell wafts across the streets. Around half past three, a gray van pulls into the yard, a man in bright orange high-visibility clothing gets out and immediately greets me with an enthusiastic “Happy New Year!”. The good-humored man is Maik Baumann, the 65-year-old has been working for the City of Dortmund as a street cleaner for over 20 years and today will be his last New Year’s Eve in this position.
Together we walk into a two-storey building clad on the outside with corrugated iron sheets, the headquarters of street cleaning in Dortmund. “All cleaning tours are planned from here, we are assigned our cars and then we are good to go,” explains Maik shortly before he enters the break room where his colleagues are already waiting. The small lounge with a kitchen is festively decorated on this New Year’s Eve, a garland covers calendars from the last four years from various tire manufacturers, which normally show scantily clad women, but not on New Year’s Eve. A few streamers adorn the table, on the middle of which stands a cake iced with lots of icing, the red inscription “Thank you Mike” is clearly visible in capital letters across the cake. The 15 people present are very happy, because today they are bidding farewell to a long-time friend, colleague and mentor on his well-deserved retirement. “But the cake won’t be served until after work,” clarifies Frank, one of Maik’s longest-serving colleagues.
With a resounding “One last dance!”, Maik leaves the room in the direction of the corridor, where today’s duty roster is displayed on a large whiteboard. The jumble of bright colors, lines and dashes is no problem for Maik, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out which route he’s driving today. Maik is driving route 18 today, right across the Suburb of Dortmund-Kirchhörde. All the cars have already been assigned to an employee on a key board next to the duty roster, the street cleaner grabs the key under his name and leaves the building in the direction of the parking lot. His current company car is a modern Mercedes, equipped with a 10,000 liter tank. The bright yellow car is emblazoned with the words “100 percent Dortmund” on the side. After a brief visual inspection, Maik enters the driver’s cab. With a triple honk, he leaves the yard for his last New Year’s Eve mission.
The journey to Kirchhörde takes about ten minutes, during which time we encounter a few cars and pedestrians on the road and one thing in particular: garbage. Empty rocket shells, plastic packaging and burnt-out firework batteries litter the sidewalks and streets. According to an estimate by Dortmund City Cleaning spokeswoman Petra Hartmann, this year alone there were around 18 tons of firework waste, which only accumulated at the hotspots. Three times more than in the years before the covid pandemic.
Arriving in Kirchhörde, the work begins for Maik. Where 50 km/h is actually allowed, the speed limit is now a comfortable 15 km/h. “We can’t go any faster, then the machine won’t be able to keep up with the suction and sweeping. But it’s nice like this too,” explains Maik with a grin on his face. Again and again there is a loud creaking and cracking under the vehicle, and with the help of a suction funnel, the vehicle can pick up a large part of the waste. Water nozzles then wet the road and rotating sweeping brushes remove even small particles from the asphalt. In the glow of the yellow streetlights, Maik quietly makes his rounds, the houses to the right and left of the street are barely lit, understandable when you look at the clock, it is already 5:15 a.m. on January 1, 2024.
After about 20 minutes of the sweeper’s monotonous humming, a loud beep suddenly breaks the silence and a black triangle flashes on a red background on the dashboard display. “Now the intake funnel is blocked, it happens sometimes,” Maik reassures. After a quick look into the intake shaft, the culprit is found: a firework battery has blocked the opening due to its size. According to Dortmund City Cleaning spokeswoman Petra Hartmann, this is an increasingly common problem. But Maik is not fazed by this brief interlude. With a courageous grip, he transports the demolished battery into a bright yellow garbage can attached to the car. We have about ten more of these incidents on the three-hour drive.
At 8:30 a.m., the car emits another warning tone, this time a black water jug flashes on a blue background on the dashboard. The water tank is coming to an end, as is our journey. “Let’s call it a day then,” suggests the somewhat exhausted but still visibly cheerful street cleaner. Maik reaches for the radio stowed in the center console and radios to the control center. “So, we are finished now, get the coffee going.”. The drive back flies by and I quickly notice that there is hardly any garbage left in the other parts of the city that we pass through on our way. Maik’s colleagues seem to have done a great job.
Back at the yard, Maik parks the car in front of a large tank, gets out and connects a hose to the car, because the water tank needs to be full for the next shift. After about five minutes of refueling, it’s off to the next stop: emptying the garbage bin. The car stops in front of a large mountain of firework debris and other street garbage, and Maik uses a tipping device to empty his service vehicle before his colleagues start sorting the garbage. Maik’s work is now done. Visibly exhausted but satisfied, the street cleaners from the city of Dortmund bid farewell to Maik Baumann over coffee and cake as he heads off into his well-earned retirement. On my way home, I let my gaze wander to the left and right, and I too have a satisfying feeling of having achieved something that many people in Dortmund have probably simply slept through.
