Why Eastern Europe has a poor connotation

Of late, I have been feeling more and more at home with Eastern Europe. I have gotten used to the weird things, and now they seem normal to me. Eastern Europe is thought of as being dirty, uneducated, primitive, and Communist. However, even at the beginning of my stay here, I was never floored by these observations. Indeed, I found it highly superior to the United States in many ways. True, there are bullet holes on the facade of my building, and if a fire marshal exists, his rules are lax, but nonetheless, I enjoyed the truly different environment. However, beginning last night, I suddenly became revolted by a citywide tradition. Once a year, the city proclaims a day during which everyone can literally throw their trash and unwanted belongings onto the sidewalk. Apparently the city looks forward to this event because they don't have to pay for waste removal, and it's also an opportunity to pick up some free, second hand items, as it is perfectly acceptable, and indeed encouraged, to rummage through the piles in search of desired items. According to my Hungarian teacher, the city keeps this day secret so that people will not start putting their trash outside too early, and only on the eve of the event is the nature of the next day revealed. Well last night was this infamous "eve." Initially I thought some people in my building were moving out, but as the night arrived, I realized that all up and down our street, piles of things were beginning to accumulate. By this morning, directly outside our exterior door to the apartment, there was a pile at least 15 feet long, and waist high. It wasn't garage-sale-esque, rather, it was filth. There were some clothes, but mostly it was decrepit furniture, stained bedding, dirt, old sponges and rags, Communist-style shoes, and what appeared to be several broken mirrors. It was vile. It still is vile. In order to leave our apartment, we have to walk through the edges of this purgatory, stepping from pieces of dirty cardboard to cardboard, avoiding the shards of glass. I love Europe, I love Budapest, but this is a repulsive tradition that I feel is both unsafe, and does nothing to change the image of the countries formerly under the Communist regime. Suddenly homeless people and beggars have showed up in my neighborhood, looting through the junk, and while these are common people to see around Budapest, I am not okay with having them outside my door. If I spoke Hungarian I would write a very strongly-worded letter to some figure of authority. As I am leaving in less than a month, and my Hungarian is limited to the bare basics, I will content myself with ranting on this blog. In conclusion, I love Hungary, but I could do without these cave-man tendencies.