Nusa Penida Island // Black Magic Island - Part II

Multicolored quarter-sized candy wrappers, amassed by the fist full, were slipping through my gloves on my thirtieth trip to the trash bag in the corner of the lot. I crouched again, my dirty knees hovering above the aged, twisted plastic, the remnants of a bygone lunch I had yet to excavate. Ten other swift and lively pairs of hands were similarly occupied: digging, manning hoes, rakes, and shovels, or tossing mounds of grass and earth over stonewalls on the periphery, and occasionally pausing to wipe beaded brows. We had already relocated cumbersome hunks of limestone, yanked out innumerable, sturdy weeds with stubborn rhizomes, and now we were tilling the earth only to find trash compacted thick as roots, extending at least a meter downward. Source