The cart is full, completely filled and every three blocks we take a rest. Hector is afraid that his cart will collapse, but also very proud to see it loaded three meters high. "Dont you have a camera with you," he asks. I take a photo; its already dark and the camera flashes.
We are in front of a kind of social society building and people walk out, waked up by the flashlight. Without asking anything they start telling good things they do for the cartoneros. Hector and I look at each other amazed, we didnt ask them anything and have more interest to rest than to listen to these lovely talks of this middleclass social society.
"We give them every Thursday food on the square," they yell. "But its a shame that you cant eat that food, its usually too old," says Hector irritated. It surprises me; his criteria are not that high.
Hector makes out of me a journalist to get a simple explanation why we took that photo. It worsens the situation even more. We dont know how quick to leave.