Hector collects his paper in another part of Urquiza. There are not that many shops in that area. Its the last part of the capital before the highway, the borderline between the city and the suburbs.
We pass by the closed workshops you can find here.
We havent found a lot, just some carton boxes. "On Tuesdays I dont find that much," he says.
Maria is waving 100 meters away with her hand. There is a container with some cartoneros around it already. Another workshop stops, broken, and they dump their leftovers. We grab what we can, a big roll of tape and a big metal-case. I grab wrongly and cut myself seriously. Its not so unusual; Hector doesnt look up for it.
The workers from the metal workshop come outside with a wooden desk. They help us to dissemble it carefully and borrow us some tools to take apart the metal-case.
"Have a lot of luck today," they say to us friendly and disappear in the empty workshop.