LA PLATA, ARGENTINA – Noticing a colorful little house among the trees in Parque Saavedra, a park in the capital of Buenos Aires province, a young girl climbs out of her hammock and delves into wicker baskets full of books in the gateway to the house. She grabs a book, settles into a seat, and immerses herself in a story.
Inside, the house is cozy. Hundreds of paper birds flutter in a ceiling of sky blue and white tulle. Colorful book covers, children’s drawings and a pair of guitars decorate the white walls.
Nearby, women work at a low table. One of them, Paula Kriscautzky, 39, carefully guards books in a paper bag.
The books, Kriscautzky explains, are gifts for the most loyal readers of the popular children’s library, Del Otro Lado del Árbol (“On the Other Side of the Tree”). Kriscautzky created the library after her youngest daughter, Pilar, died of cancer in 2011 at age 5.
“Pilar adored listening to stories, and these made her transition through the disease much easier, allowing her to escape to fantastic worlds,” Kriscautzky says, speaking softly and deliberately.
While Pilar was receiving treatment, she and Kriscautzky thought of creating a traveling children’s library together. The two envisioned a library that would frequent hospital halls, easing the stays of pediatric patients.
After Pilar died, Kriscautzky worked with family and friends to make that dream a reality.
“It then occurred to me that a way to honor her was bringing books closer to all of the children, and to open windows to other universes for them,” she says.
With the support she received, Kriscautzky founded Del Otro Lado del Árbol, the only library for children in a public La Plata park. In addition to giving children access to books, the library offers free activities. This month – the month in which Pilar would have turned 10 – marks the library’s fourth anniversary.
The library has inspired the creation of similar spaces in two other cities. And this month, Del Otro Lado del Árbol published a book written by children; it is distributing the book to schools, libraries and children’s centers.
Del Otro Lado del Árbol, which operates out of a park building the local municipality loaned to Kriscautzky, is a nongovernmental organization that operates with 50 volunteers, including teachers, public employees, lawyers and workshop participants from all artistic fields, Kriscautzky says.
The lending library has 2,000 members, ranging in age from infancy to age 12. Each member pays 100 pesos ($11.20) a year for the privilege of checking out books. Many of the 9,000 books in the library collection were donated; others were bought with annual grants from the National Commission of Public Libraries.
Commission grants also help with operating costs, such as electricity and Internet service. In addition, neighbors make monthly donations, Kriscautzky says.
The library also offers workshops in the arts, including painting, music, storytelling and puppetry. On Saturdays, artists from around the city present music, theater, puppetry and a circus for tips.
The library participates in meetings for children being treated for serious diseases, promoting a humanitarian approach to care. The library also works with children in prolonged treatment, as well as their mothers. Volunteers read stories to patients and organize workshops.
All schools in the area visit the library. Volunteers, aiming to foster a love of reading and caring for books, guide teachers in organizing school libraries.
When it came time to choose the name for the library, Kriscautzky leafed through Pilar’s favorite books for inspiration. Among them, she discovered “Del Otro Lado del Árbol,” a story of a lost girl who comes upon a little house in the forest. The old woman who lives there tells wonderful stories.
Using Facebook, Kriscautzky wrote an open letter telling the community about the project and requesting donations and volunteers. Little by little, mothers arrived to donate books; to make the place homier, others donated artwork and helped paint the house. Grandmothers assembled cushions and wove blankets. A neighbor constructed small wooden tables and chairs.
Kriscautzky delights in the project she initiated in her daughter’s honor.
“While at first this crusade had to do with alleviating my pain, later it transformed itself into something much bigger – an absolutely collective space that promotes the child’s creative development in the cultural, educational and health areas,” she says.
Ángela Pozo, one of the collaborators, took her now 6-year-old goddaughter to the library on inauguration day. A humanities student, Pozo was fascinated by the placement of a library in a park, easily accessible to park visitors. She was excited by the prospect of participating in art workshops. She returned to the library a month after the inauguration to join the team.
“This space has Paula’s personal seal,” Pozo says. “It is a place where art, literature and playing are the main drivers.”
Francina Reggiardo, 8, often goes to the library with her mother, 5-year-old sister and friends. Francina hasn’t met Kriscautzky, but she says that whoever conceived of this library knows what kids like.
“It is one of my favorite outings,” she says. “Because there I can see the clowns and jugglers that I like the most. Also, I can go to the library to look at all the books I want and, if I feel like it, I can also read them.”
Francina’s mother, Carla Galimberti, says the forest that surrounds the library adds a bonus, a particular microclimate. On one occasion she recalls with delight, she and her daughters participated in a treasure hunt in which guides dressed as medieval knights. She never saw a game so originally organized, she says.
Kriscautzky’s partner, Fernando Ragone, and her sons, ages 16 and 18, accompany her in improving the library.
Ragone admits it is not easy to live with someone who is extremely committed to a life project.
“Paula is very visceral,” he says. “She lives everything from deep within.”
Ragone, a sculptor, contributed a tribute to Pilar, a wooden work called “Nenas Que Juegan” (“Little Girls Who Play”). Located at the entrance of the library, the sculpture shows Pilar embracing a playmate.
Telma Ester Cian, a lecturer in primary education at teacher training institutes in La Plata, says she knows of no other library in the area that’s so accessible to the public and so rich in cultural variety.
Cian’s education students regularly look over the library’s extensive collection. They often visit with their practicum students.
“It is a space that many educational institutions choose so that children can fully enjoy the literature,” she says.
Del Otro Lado del Árbol has inspired the creation of branches in public parks in Olavarría and San Carlos de Bolívar, two other cities in Buenos Aires province.
The founders model those projects on Del Otro Lado del Árbol, and their branches carry the same name. To ensure they wouldn’t undermine the project’s objectives, they consulted Kriscautzky on basic guidelines.
“When I traveled to get to know those places, I felt touched,” Kriscautzky says. “I saw that they perfectly understood what we do here, accommodating it to their realities.”
Kriscautzky plans two big projects this year.
The first is to distribute 2,000 copies of the recently published collection of stories written in library workshops. The young contributors share their dreams in the book, “Que Cada Día Sea Mágico y Lleno de Sueños” (“May Each Day be Magical and Filled with Dreams”), which was published this month.
Kriscautzky will distribute the books to schools, libraries and children’s centers throughout the year.
Kriscautzky is building a space where children from infants to age 2 can play with puppets and books made of cardboard and rubber.
“Today, nearly four years after the foundation, the work intensity is great,” she says. “And this was achieved because many passionate people who leave their time or their knowledge accompany me. I always say that the solitary ideas stay as ideas. Instead, shared and collective ideas become reality.”
Natalia Aldana, GPJ, translated this article from Spanish.
