Dust and Ash Heaps
by Sister Yan and Sister Zhong, All Girls Allowed Field Workers
Holding our noses with one hand and fighting off flies with another, we made our way through what might be the worst place to visit on a scorching hot day in June.
Despite being loaded with trash, the landfill still felt strangely barren. There were no signs of life, none other than those dreadful flies which hovered like ominous dark clouds over a vast ocean of broken bottles, old newspapers, and rotten food. We had been led here by the...