This is a place I used to go to when I was a child, together with my friends. It's a large stone next to the castle in my hometown. We used to spend many summer afternoons there, just enjoying the time and each other’s company. Usually, we would ride our bikes around the mountain trails, exploring the area, and eventually end up resting on this stone. It became a kind of meeting point for us. Every time I think of it, it brings back so many warm memories of my childhood—of freedom, friendship, laughter, and long summer days.

All my close friends and colleagues know where I come from, but no one knows what kind of atmosphere I grew up in. I spent my childhood here in the southwest of Moscow. Regardless of the depressing view from my room that I saw every day, I was genuinely happy. At first glance, it seemed like a scary stone jungle, which gave a feeling of oppression, melancholy, and not escapism. But when I looked out of the window on the ninth floor where I lived, I observed life in these jungles. Children played on the playground while their parents talked to each other, and old people fed stray cats or pigeons. I always watched people come to our yard and park their cars in empty spaces, but what made me happiest was watching my father come home from work and park his car. In the evening, when it was dark, everyone went home and turned on the lights in their apartments. It was a completely different picture, a different place. There was no one outside, but everything was happening inside the blocks. As I looked into the shining windows, I thought about how vast the world was, and I thought about this place, which was the world for me at that time. I haven't been to this place for twelve years, and despite the terrible architecture and urbanism where I lived, I always remember it with warmth in my heart. I can safely say that this was my place, where my life began.

Es un patio con un árbol de mangos como corazón, orquídeas consentidas y demás plantas que traen vida y recuerdos a la casa. En el patio de yaya nos bañamos con agua de la manguera en días calurosos. En el patio de yaya recogiamos mangos cada vez que llegaba la temporada. En el patio de yaya celebramos nuestros cumpleaños, colgamos luces en los arboles para navidad, asi como tambien llegue a sembrar plantas. Durante los inicios de covid-19, pasé todas las tardes en el patio de yaya para estar fuera de las 4 paredes. Entre estas se mantienen las memorias en el patio de yaya. A este lugar siempre le llamamos casa de yaya, patio de yaya, y asi siempre será.

Cada mañana mi hermano me acompañaba caminando al colegio primario a las 6.45am y pasaríamos caminando por Barrancas de Belgrano cantando sus canciones de rap favoritas del momento. Por el mediodía, pasaría a buscarme por el colegio y antes de llegar a barrancas, frenaríamos en un kiosco a comprar dos obleas bonobon q disfrutábamos comiendo sentados en el parque por 5min, luego volveríamos a casa contentos listos para el almuerzo. Con el pasar del tiempo ya en el secundario, comencé a darle otra utilidad a la plaza, esta vez para ir a tomar mates por la tarde con mis amigas, o para previar por la noche los fines de semana. Hoy en día vivo a media hora de aquella plaza, pero siempre que paso en auto para ir a la Universidad, recuerdo todas aquellas memories.

I have always live near my city´s park. It is a park that unfolds along the riverbank, on a long walk made of pink and grey tiles on the high zone, and sand, brushes and giant trees on the low one.

A park is a peculiar place from which to observe a city. Since I was a little child I watch the passerby from my window and think about it as a kaleidoscope, through which the city reveals itself in its most anomalies shapes and most intensive colors.

In the park the city and its inhabitants dress up (dresses printed with flowers and phosphorescent sport-wear), they play at being what they are not, and at the same time  (thanks to these masks) they undress, they move and allow themselves to breath in a way that they are no allow to do it on the sidewalks and urbanized streets. They seem to be disoriented or lost, uncomfortable due to the absence of traffic noise and the rowdy singing of birds.

Since I was a child, I also sometimes became a walker (the always ephemeral inhabitant of a park). There was once when I got lost in the park. In the middle of a tantrum I started running furiously. When I realized that I was alone I started to cry. Now I think that my tears were also caused  by a subtle emotion: I was feeling at the brink of a possible adventure, as those lonely children who star in the tales of witches and ogres. 

This photo was taken during the 2020´s pandemic, when all the country was confined. During most than a month the park remained closed, fenced off by police ribbons (as if a crime has been committed). Then, we were allowed to go out just for hour. During those days, from my window, I observed this couple sitting in the same  bank, observing, in turn  together in silence the park  still deserted and savage, as is after years (maybe a entire life) of absence they have found  again. And I, after all this time (my entire life), in a certain way, I found my-self reflected in them.

Signboards, arrows and so on are not always leading you to the destination. A place definition may change by passing times.

Montreal's alleys are fantastic public spaces, that the City and its citizens started to recognize some years ago. They are extraordinary spaces of privacy, creativity and freedom, cherished by many parents... and children.

Aquest lloc  està just a baix de casa meva i a part es on vaig pasar la meva infancia jugant amb els meus amics i amigues.

El parque nuevo es un sitio donde todos hemos ido algún vez de pequeños, pero seguramente nos habremos caído miles de veces.

Quan era més petita a l’hora de tornar casa de l’escola o a l’hora d’anar passava por aquest passeig

Aquí jugava amb els meus amics i amigues quan sortia del col·legi i gairebé tots els dies venia la meva àvia. És un lloc on tinc molts bons records i és com la representació de la meva infància.

Conec aquest mercat des de ben petita i sempre he anat a comprar.