Waste traders profit from things that sit in a gray zone, neither clearly worthless nor clearly valuable. They work out of edge-of-town and temporary spaces, and their own in-between status as migrants keeps the trade flexible. The same blurriness that marks waste work as low and suspect is what lets it generate income and even wealth.
People who handle other people's rubbish face contempt, insecurity, and unstable earnings. They work deliberately to build identities that let them hold their heads up despite that stigma. Remaking their social and moral standing is part of the job, not separate from earning money.
A trade that looks like pure scrambling for cash is held together by local obligations of care. People help, lend, and look out for each other because they expect help in return and because they hope to rise together. This mutual give-and-take, not formal contracts, is what keeps the network running.