Its been raining for the whole day and not lightly. I wear my long raining coat; its a trendy one. I am well protected against the wind and rain, have a capuchin. Yet I feel the water on my shoulders entering my shirt when I walk into the station. Its a tough rain. The cartoneros stand packed under the few protecting places. Paola is waiting with her mother and sister next to the ice cream shop. Soaked, with wet shining foreheads, completely exhausted. She greets me with a charming smile. I see Hector, sheltering in the entrance of the tunnel, broken. He can hardly speak one word; his cart is just half filled. But I see that he is one of the most successful ones today.
It starts raining even harder. Streams of water arise on the street. Fidel enters the station and is surprised seeing me. "You have a good coat! Lets change," he directly says. On a day like this its perfectly clear who has money and who hasnt. His greyish raincoat is soaked, soaked.