Children working in the Stung Meanchey Dump in Cambodia. Photo: EB78 (flickr)

Have you ever wondered what happens to the garbage after you leave it on the curb?

In developing countries, trash from the cities are commonly picked through by the poor and unwanted members of society. These trash pickers go by many names: the Zabaleen in Egypt, pepenadores in Mexico, and ragpickers in India.

These people rely on trash for their livelihoods. They spend hours sorting through these huge piles of rancid waste by hand. For them, almost everything is reusable. Organic materials are used to feed their livestock; recyclable materials are washed and resold. Indian ragpickers make only 100-150 rupees ($2.50-$3.75) for eight hours of sifting.

These overlooked members of society perform an important service for the rest of the population. In Delhi, ragpickers "represent almost 1% of Delhi's total population and handle about 20% of the city's enormous daily waste," according to Paul Colombini, who created a website on which Delhi recyclers can tell their own stories. It is estimated that these ragpickers save the city 600,000 rupees a day in trash disposal costs.

Though this work is dirty and smelly, they take pride knowing the invaluable service they perform.

We don't like attention. Rubbish is never attractive and we're quite happy carrying on quietly ... but our work supports a whole industry that's virtually invisible to most people.

"If you've ever smoked a major-brand cigarette, the chances are you've smoked Malawian tobacco," says the BBC. "Virtually every western cigarette uses a bit of the produce from this small southern African nation in its blend."

The battle between cigarette companies and anti-tobacco campaigns poses a challenge for Malawi, one of the poorest nations in the world. In Malawi, tobacco production contributes to 10 percent of GDP and is the second-largest employer in the country.

Proponents of tobacco production argue that tobacco is a crop of choice for farmers because it is easy to grow on marginal soils that yield little else, and earns about seven times more than maize and 22 times more than cotton. In Malawi, revenues from tobacco production are generated from a mere 2 percent of the country’s arable land.

Critics of tobacco production argue that the wealth generated by this resource is not spread evenly across the country. With the price of tobacco constantly fluctuating, those hardest hit are small farmers who are often forced to sell their produce at a loss when tobacco prices fall below market value. According to The Malawi Tobacco Control Commission (TCC), a local government watchdog, it takes US$1 for farm workers to produce a kilogram of tobacco, but that kilo is sold for only US$0.70. As a result, farmers on the big tobacco estates become bonded laborers, forcing whole families to work and repay the landlord. One study found Malawi's tobacco industry employs 78,000 children.

What's not in dispute is that Malawi's tobacco industry is struggling. The government is starting to push alternatives. One is farming mushrooms, where there is already a"brisk local market" — and a potential to meet unmet global demand.

On the tobacco auction floor. Photo: joellaflickr (flickr)

Here's 60 million Zim Dollars, roughly the equivalent of US $400 (August 2007). Photo: GrahamKing (flickr)

Imagine a place where you would rather use a $10,000 bill to light a fire than actually try to purchase goods.

Today, The Washington Post provides an excellent look at the Black Market in Zimbabwe, a country where 80 percent of the population lives in poverty. The article puts a very real face on the black market industry as Craig Timberg follows a trader around for the day.

The economy began its free fall when landless black peasants invaded white-owned farms in 2000 with the support of Mugabe, who said the redistribution would undo colonial inequities. The often violent process decimated the country's most crucial industry and biggest earner of foreign exchange, triggering hyperinflation that has rarely paused on its staggering ascent.

Today, it's not unusual to see a wadded-up 10,000-dollar bill lying on Harare's filthy sidewalks. Though officially worth about 33 cents in U.S. currency, the real value is about one-tenth of a penny.