"This is a godsend," Elaine tells me, as we sit in line, waiting for our numbers to be called. We’re at ZERO on Guildford High Street, where every Tuesday and Thursday several crates of surplus food that would otherwise be wasted are given away to anyone who wants it. Elaine shows me her number - “eighteen!” she complains. “All the good stuff will be gone!” But at least it's a multiple of three, meaning she gets flowers. There are seven or eight beautiful bouquets on display, looking as perfect as any you would get from a florist.
The food does not look like waste. The croissants from Gail’s are just like the ones you'd pay £2.50 for down the street. There are 2 or 3 full crates of unblemished, perfectly shaped apples - ’tis the season, I suppose. Aldi sometimes offloads an interesting pick n mix of items - exercise hoops, gym shorts - the sort of thing you find dumped in the middle aisle. There are bulk deliveries of Cornish pasties, M&S soup, packets of teriyaki sauce, victims of the vagaries of supply and demand, that weren't ever sold, or never made it to the shop floor in the first place.
Still, the regular visitors to the Community Fridge aren't complaining. Looking around, I count around twenty-five, standing around chatting, of all ages and backgrounds. One of the biggest misconceptions around the community fridge is that this is a service for those in need‒ like a food bank. In my experience, there remains a stigma ‒ particularly in an affluent ‒ middle-class town like Guildford, against taking something for free, as if doing so would tighten your bonds with other people, making you feel as if you owed them something.
I have to remind myself that the community fridge isn't about charity, it's about reducing waste. Since its inception in 2021, The Community Fridge has distributed over 45 tons of food that would otherwise have gone to waste. That’s the equivalent weight of about 30 cars. By taking from the fridge, you help to reduce that waste, and what's more, you're less likely to create waste somewhere else. Take an enormous sugary cinnamon roll from here, you won't buy a fresh one on the way home, in a paper bag you’ll probably throw away. Pick up a few apples here and you won't need to buy a pack from sainsbury's in its individual, single-use paper bag.
Kate, the community fridge organiser, whistles to get our attention. The rule today is one pastry, one loaf of bread, and any fruit or veg that you can use. We aren't short of fruit today, about a dozen pineapples sit proudly on the shelf, amongst the oranges, grapefruits, and potatoes. There are a few special giveaways too ‒ a regular who works as a nature photographer has brought along a collection of framed photographs he took in the Andes. And anyone here for the first time ‒ there are a couple of students hiding awkwardly at the back ‒ get flowers.
The community fridge is what sociologist Ray Oldenburg calls "a third place" meaning a gathering place that is neither home nor office where people can meet on a more-or-less equal playing field. Third places in the past have included French coffee houses, English pubs, churches, even barbers in New York and are a vital element of social belonging. For Oldenburg, the characteristics of a third place include regulars, whose job is to set the tone, a light-hearted, playful atmosphere, a wholesome, cosy space that doesn't feel too formal, and an absence of social hierarchy. Who you are in the outside world, your role, status and income, is not important.
The community fridge at ZERO meets these characteristics. Regulars like Elaine, Kate, and many of the other volunteers and guests who come every week help to create a familiar, comfortable atmosphere. Once the initial rush has died down, many of the regulars can be found sitting around the tables drinking coffee, sometimes discussing environmental politics, but often not. It is becoming increasingly rare for people of different ages and social backgrounds to meet in ways like this, and the community fridge is one of the few places in Guildford where a prospective green MP, a retired couple, and a few thirty-something volunteers could be found sitting at a table drinking coffee together.
The mission of Zero Carbon Guildford, of which the community fridge is a part, is to help Guildford Borough reach carbon neutrality by 2030, by motivating and finding ways for Guildford's residents to reduce their own carbon footprint. Although community-formation might not be the charity's primary goal, community does tend to spring up whenever people come together in the spirit of cooperation and friendliness, and address themselves to a worthwhile goal. You see this at the community fridge, but also amongst the volunteers, and in the numerous other projects in which zero carbon Guildford volunteers are involved.
Interested? Why not come along to see for yourself, or better still consider becoming a volunteer?
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