The danger, however, never rests. Reckless drivers driving tired or with cups on top are our biggest threat. Being hung from the back bar a few inches from traffic demands eyes on the back and a millimeter coordination with the driver, who guides a mile of fifteen tons guided only by the mirrors and our whistle signs.At six in the morning the first line buses start to circulate and the sky is stained with a light gray. The route is practically covered: dozens of clear streets, accumulation-free corners and empty containers ready for a new urban cycle.
We make the last download at the transfer processing plant. The truck is empty and we return to the base for mandatory disinfection of the units and the change of clothing.
When I take off my fluoride uniform and thick rubber gloves, my back takes its toll on me with a deaf pull, but the feeling of having fulfilled the task honestly overcomes any fatigue.
