Dia del.. qualquiera



Dia del Maestro advert in Tucuman.
Hot Teacher + Chalk = Photoshop

Argentina has 18 Bank Holidays. EIGHTEEN. It's bloody brilliant.
As a teacher, throw in a strike or two, a day's illness and a school trip and you're down to about a 4 day year. And people wonder why standards are slipping! Your teachers are hammered, every long weekend, people, that's why.

Anyway, it's actually quite hard to keep track of what you're celebrating. I've coloured coded this entry to help you.
  

I for one am losing track of the dias. It was Dia del Maestro yesterday, Teacher's Day: we were served a massive buffet of superb food by the parents, and showered with gifts. Quite right too, we're bloody important, teachers, and frankly it is impressive organisation sneaking in a Teacher's Day in amongst all the holi-days.


Weird Science celebrate Dia de la Secretaria.
Kelly Le Brock, anyone? Seriously, anyone?

I got in trouble with the Secretaries last week, as I missed Dia de la Secreteria. If you are a male secretary, you find that you have been grammatically written out of this day. Then again, if you are a male secretary in Argentina, everyday is a gender equality struggle.

Not very good at this, am I? Dia del Amigo I missed completely. I was in the pub drinking with mates, so I hope they forgive me. And yes, through the colour choice I am trying to infer that Dia del Amigo is the campest day yet. Yes including Madri Gras. What are guys supposed to do on Friends Day? Well, here I suppose they sit around in cafes sharing a tiramasu and talk about their feelings.

The reason I missed Secretary Day was because it was completely pointless, and I had only just recovered from Children's Day.

And yes, I draw the line at Dia del Niño.

What are you doing for Dia del Niño? I was asked a dozen times an hour for a week. Finally, I snapped, as I was innocently asked what special treatsome plans I had in store for my darlings by a colleague in the Staff Room.



Piss off, you get every day anyway.

I'm not doing f*** all, if I'm honest. That's what, Carina, thanks for asking. Every frikkin day is Children's Day. I wake up every Saturday morning with a mental blueprint of the best possible weekend in store for the little uns. Sleep, sport, night out. Do I ever do it? Do I bollox! When's lie in with your wife day? When's get a good night's sleep day?

Every weekend is a tailor made kiddie holiday. Cause I'm a good father? No. Survival instinct and a very slow learning process teaches you that you base the day around them, not you.

If we did what I wanted - namely, write sarcastic blog entries all morning in a cafe, then go for a run, then spent the afternoon drinking and watching sport - then the day would be horrendous. I'd come home to a justifiably fuming wife and two bored, irritated children. So we don't do that: we go to the zoo, or the park, or play the Maisy the Retarded Mouse bored game (no typo), or watch Waybuloo and discuss NokTop's feelings about Ee-low (real names), or a thousand and one other things to get us through to 8 o'clock bedtime and booze. 

And is it fun? Yeah. It's amazing, and I love it. 

But don't expect me to do something special on Dia del Niño. Trip to the moon, kids? It's your special day after all.

Ingrates.