Waste recycling
Unhealthy
At least the flat-pack furniture assembly factory had been a reasonably safe place and it was indoors so while it wasn't exactly warm, it was possible to work there in normal clothes and not be unduly concerned about one's health. The single-storey waste-recycling centre offices had once been a school building. It was good to see that they included decent sanitation facilities and a kitchen that we were allowed access to. The remainder of the waste-recycling centre comprised a shed that had been condemned more than two years previously (problems include an asbestos roof and rat infestation), together with a muddy compound that had once been a grassy area, but which then contained a number of skips and other storage units. If the compound had conformed to health and safety rules, it wouldn't have been muddy as it would have been made of a hard surface such as concrete or tarmac.
That compound is no longer used for recycling, because the operation moved to a former farm near Ragdale, a village located a few miles away, in December 2007 and January 2008, together with much of the work previously carried out in the condemned shed. All that remained at the old shed when I left was a collection point for domestic waste, and there were plans to move that to a cabin in the nearby compound.
The condemned shed
The condemned shed had wide double doors that were kept permanently open during working hours, providing the primary source of light as well as access. It was a very cold place in the depths of winter as heating was almost non-existent. Somebody found me a fan-heater and this latterly sat precariously atop the shredder. Prior to that, I shivered even when wearing a vest, shirt, five pullovers and a well-insulated coat. I'd started with fewer layers but kept piling on the extras to no avail. With so many layers, I always arrived at work sweating because it's not ideal to walk for an hour, even on a bitterly cold day, wrapped in so many layers, nor was it practical to wear fewer layers for the walk to work and add the extras upon arrival, but the warming effect of the walk soon wore off after arrival. The fan heater helped but I only really benefited if I stood directly in the path of the air flow, which stopped my work for a while. One could argue that the fan heater was a health and safety hazard, but it was just one more such hazard to add to all the others that had caused the shed to be condemned more than two years earlier.
Sorting cans
During my first week or two in the condemned shed, I was occasionally given other things to do. One day, I was sent to the can sorter. This contraption has a hopper into which empty beer cans and soft-drink cans are loaded. The can sorter is then switched on, whereupon the cans are forced up a magnetised chute. When the cans reach the top, the steel cans stick to the underside of the chute as it returns while the aluminium cans fall off the end. It sounds like a really simple idea that anybody could cope with. To be fair, even I could have coped had the system been set up correctly with health and safety uppermost in the minds of those responsible. I didn't cope because it wasn't set up correctly.
The first problem was the hopper. I was told in no uncertain terms (and could in any case see for myself) that the can sorter works best if you pile the hopper high with cans. This would be fine if it were possible to stand on a platform of some kind, high enough so that I could stand on it and comfortably empty a bin-bag full of cans into the hopper. As it was, I stood at ground level and had to stretch to hold the bag high enough to tip the cans out of it. I could sense that my shoulder was going to give way if I continued struggling to do that. There are other techniques for getting round the problem, such as taking the cans out of the bin-bag a few at a time and throwing them into the hopper, but if the can sorter were set up correctly, those techniques wouldn't be needed.
The second problem was at the other end where the cans are ejected. There were no proper receptacles to receive the cans. Ideally, I think that there should have been rigid containers (whether made of plastic, wood or metal) to receive them. It would have been easy to adjust their position so that, once set, they picked up the cans that they were supposed to. If there were enough space, the ultimate recipient of these cans (a skip) could have been stationed in position to catch the aluminium cans (but not the steel cans as this would be physically impossible in all circumstances). An even better option, if it could be afforded, would be to invest in a can baler and link it to the can sorter.
The steel cans actually fall into a bucket, but that bucket is smaller than it should be so some steel cans fall on the floor. To catch the aluminium cans, we used (you've guessed it) bags - actually builders' bags (later carried to and emptied into a skip), which are much bigger than bin-bags, but which had to be held in position by the unfortunate person standing in front of the ejection position, with cans raining down on him. While being bombarded by cans in this way, some still containing residues of beer, cola or whatever, it is difficult to keep the builder's bag in place. As such, many cans end up missing their target. Sometimes these cans go back into the hopper but some get swept away with the general debris and end up in land-fill, which isn't what recycling waste is supposed to be about.
My brief spell (less than two days) at the can sorter ended when the machine, in full flow, suddenly stopped for no apparent reason. Several days later, an engineer fixed it but by then I was left to feed paper through the shredder while others sorted the cans. With more space in the former farm near Ragdale, the can sorter is set up much better now than it was in the condemned shed, although the set-up is still some way short of ideal.
Moving to the farm
I didn't want to be sent to the former farm near Ragdale for logistical reasons and the management knew this but I finally moved in mid-January, together with the shredder. Of course, if I thought that the former farm near Ragdale was going to provide a great environment, I might prefer going there to staying in Leicester despite the logistical problems. It was not sufficiently better to be worth the inconvenience to me, and it was worse in some respects.
Farm life
I haven't seen the actual village of Ragdale, which is in a valley not visible from the farm. The set-up is superior to the Leicester compound and condemned shed in a number of respects. With three enormous sheds instead of one small shed, there is much more space in which to work so a lot of the stuff previously stored outside the old shed can all be kept within the sheds. Nevertheless, it's just as cold, not least because the three sheds are converted cowsheds. As such, they don't have solid walls because there are slats, some of which are missing. The roofs are made of corrugated iron and there are gaps there too. Since some of the machinery requires electricity to run, this seems to be a serious potential hazard as rain could short-circuit the electrics. There is a standard designated IP54 to which electrical equipment used outdoors is supposed to adhere to. I was told that any equipment not adhering to that standard would either be replaced or upgraded. Did that happen? I wonder.
Worse still, there were no sanitation facilities when the operation began there. This has changed now but the facilities are of the inferior portable type. How did the site get planning permission to start operations in December 2007 prior to sanitation being available and without other health and safety requirements being complied with?
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