On a wet Wednesday in La Boca, the street smelled like rust and lemon detergent. Children chased a punctured football between puddles, while the façade of the neighborhood library, La Luz del Riachuelo, peeled in long blue curls. Camila Roldán wrestled a crate of donated paperbacks from a taxi as the driver cursed the potholes in the slangy warmth of Buenos Aires.