Like any kids, my neighbors love playing.
Any time they are not in school, it seems, is spent playing outside of my door. That's how it should be. But their activity of choice is always changing.
When I first moved in to my apartment, their favorite game was a modified version of soccer (Bonus points for knocking over Ian's plants). The only losers in this game were my plants, which didn't survive the first two weeks.
Then they got into a game called seven lives (kind of a mixture between pickle and dodgeball).
Then, as tryouts for the citywide team approached, the older kids started practicing basketball on the narrow strip of concrete in front of my house.
After basketball tryouts, spinning tops became all the rage. Until last week...
I was walking back to my house when I noticed the kids playing on the street. I said hi to them like I always do and noticed that they were playing with a rope.
This was weird, I thought, I had never seen them playing with a rope before.
They had thrown this rope over the power line that leads to my house and started tugging on the two ends. (Acceptable to use "no pasa nada" here)
They were pulling very tight on the line, and I'm pretty sure they were pulling dangerously hard. I told them to stop because they might hurt themselves (and I might lose power). They dropped the rope as I walked away.
It was unclear if they picked them up again once I left.
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1 comment:
Not the Ecuadorian "double-dutch" equivalent?
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