Once written off as one of Europe's most polluted rivers, the Tisza is now being given a second chance. Volunteers from Hungary, Slovenia, Romania and Serbia are teaming up to clean it — one plastic bottle at a time.

At almost 1,000 kilometers long, the Tisza carries nearly 80,000 cubic meters of waste each year toward the Danube, according to project estimates. The trash includes bottles, polystyrene and debris that have built up over decades. 

"What we are doing is basically capacity building," said Attila Dávid-Molnár, coordinator of the Aquatic Plastic Project. 

"The question is, if plastic pollution is growing and we are going to have more and more in the environment, then what do we do with it? So we see that there is an open horizon to train and educate people to know what to do." 

Molnár has been fighting to save the Tisza for more than 10 years. His team has removed 400 tonnes of litter from the river during that time. Now, through the Aquatic Plastic Project, he's training volunteers from across Central Europe to do the same. 

"We can see the difference mostly in people's minds," he said. "Because at the beginning they were turning their backs on the problem, and now they accept it and they want to be part of the solution."

Along the riverbank, volunteers are not just collecting trash. They are learning how to map pollution, organize cleanups, and inspire others to act. Some have even found new ways to reuse the waste they collect. 

Hungarian volunteer Krisztián Berberovics is turning old plastic into kayaks that glide across the same river it once polluted – a small but potent symbol of renewal. 

Among the group is Serbian environmental engineer Igor Jezdimirovic, who has seen how neglected waterways can harm communities. 

"I think that we are still not aware of the consequences that all this waste has on our health," he said. "We are not protecting the planet – we are protecting our own health." 

For many, the effort is about more than cleaning up. It's about rebuilding connection. Serbian community organizer Jovo Anzic said the work creates a sense of unity. 

"Together, we form some new energy to inspire each other," he said. "I feel like a new person when I see what they did in the past – and you can see that this is clean."

For Molnár, the work continues. His team calls it proof that people can still change the course of a river's story. On the Tisza, what they're chasing isn't just clean water – it's hope that keeps flowing.