In the bag

When I first followed my heart to Germany, all these many years ago, I encountered my future husband's first scorn when I went shopping for the first time. No, I had not bought the wrong cheese or overspent my budget. Nope, I had said, "Ja" when offered a bag. He explained that that plastic bag had set me back 20 Pfennig (less than 10 cents at the time). In response to my dumbfounded look, he explained that plastic bags were expensive to manufacture and polluted terribly, and they were only for thoughtless people who had forgotten to bring their own bags like everyone should.

I was quickly indoctrinated, and had problems when I returned to the states three years later, and showed up at the supermarket with my cheerful wicker basket. Cashiers gathered around to admire this oddity, even stranger than the Birkenstock crowd's ugly canvas or burlap sacks.

While I was in Germany this summer, I read online that the city of Seattle recently introduced a 20-cent tax on plastic grocery bags. Uproar ensued, people resent being told what to do, it's a nanny state, I have a right to a plastic bag, they scream.

The irony is not lost on me: for I had brought shopping bags with me to Europe. They are everywhere in my life: in the trunk of my car, by the front door, and yes, in my suitcase when I venture away from home. Here in Ireland, I actually had to buy garbage bags, as I have yet to receive a single plastic bag during my many shopping excursions.

Here, bringing your own bags is the norm. This past weekend, a man was at the checkout stand next to us at the supermarket. The clerk was not alone in clucking as she sold him four plastic bags. It is the first time I have seen anyone buy bags in the four weeks I have been here.

Darling Husband took out the garbage last night (in one of our purchased biodegradable bags), and came back in with his first dumpster treasure: a new sturdy shopping bag from Tesco Ireland. I shall add it to my collection of purple co-op bags from home.