The playgrounds in Buenos Aires are numerous, well-maintained, and full of children, especially during the post-school hours of 4 to 6 pm. Going to the playground seems to be woven into the daily routines of many families, similar to what we experienced in Lyon (France) and Stockholm (Sweden).
Our nearest playground is only about a 5 minute walk from our apartment, so we visit pretty frequently. As with other cities, the playgrounds here have not just been great places for Theo to expend energy, but also for me to meet and chat with other parents. Sometimes we don’t have much of a language overlap, but pantomiming fills in gaps.
For example, last week I had the opportunity to pantomime that I’d just been stung by a bee, so that the nice woman next to me would know about the sting in case I went into anaphylactic shock. (I didn’t, though part of my leg was swollen for a few days.)
According to our tango teacher, there aren’t really very many bees in Buenos Aires. So, I must be particularly appealing to them. Or, something about me makes them particularly angry. (Maybe both.) Regardless, I’ve been scanning the playgrounds carefully for bees. (Other than the one that stung me, I’ve seen exactly 0.)
As a less harrowing playground experience, earlier this week there was some sort of show at our local playground, followed by balloon sculpting. Theo asked for a rabbit (over and over and over again, in the standard manner of three-year olds), but he received a balloon that looks like a sword instead. Such is life. He was happy to have a balloon. I was happy to not see any bees. It was a good afternoon at the playground.