(NOTE: Five things Americans Could Teach Mexicans is put off for a week, due to the following breaking holiday news.)

You may have never heard of it, but Children’s Day is an official, UN-sanctioned world holiday. It is even celebrated in the United States, but nobody seems to give a rip about it.

“Every day is children’s day,” I can hear the Yanks saying grumpily.

But here in Mexico, it’s a big screaming deal, and those of us who taught the kids their after-school English last Wednesday got swept up in the occasion as well.

Long before they got to my classroom, however, my students had spent the day playing games, instead of doing their regular school work. Zamora itself also seemed to have a more relaxed air about it. Kids had taken over as DJs on the local radio station. And for some reason, my spinning teacher let me play Bob Dylan over the class sound system, chalking it up as a Children’s Day indulgence. (More on Dylan and Mexico in a few weeks. It’s a good story.)

I had resolved to ignore this holiday, since I generally operate under the assumption that my English classroom is actually a part of the United States. (Minnesota, specifically, since it gives me a chance to do impressions of my relatives.) Besides, I’m a cheapskate and didn’t want to spring for treats for the kids.

But my sentimental side reared its ugly head, and found myself buying a bag of huge colorful marshmallows to dispense to the youthful masses.

When the class started, however, it became clear that Childrens Day translates into my students young ears as Dia cuando no necesitas trabahar ni escuchar al maestro. They had been playing games all day, and here this punk from the US wants them to sit still and listen to Bill Peet’s The Wump World? Heck no!

One student even objected to the marshmallows, calling me a cheapskate. (He used the hand to elbow gesture, for those of you keeping score at home.) Apparently, I just didn’t compete with the Mars bars other, better, teachers had given out.

But things calmed down from there. All but two kids in the following class seemed to view Childrens Day as Dia cuando no necesitas asistir a tus clases, so that was a relaxing affair. Ditto for the next class, and they weren’t even children.

Still, I remain a fan of Children’s Day. Kids are important, if occasionally obnoxious. They teach us to remember the finer things in life. Like candy and goofing around just because you can.

Good job, children! Enjoy those fat novelty marshmallows. Your teeth will be rotten before you know it.