Teachers Day celebrations
On Wednesday it was Teachers Day in Mexico. This meant we got a day off work and also we had three evenings worth of parties. It felt lovely to be appreciated and recognised for all that we do and I’d really love to bring the tradition in, in the UK. I can’t see that happening but it would be really nice!
So yeah, there was lots of free food and drink, music and dancing. Yes, I said dancing. You know the proper kind – not the kind we do at home. I mean, properly with twirls and shit. Holy Lord above I am so bad at it.
On Thursday night we went to a party organised by the Presedencia for all the teachers in Tequis. I danced so much. All of it against my will. The thing is here, it is considered rude to refuse a dance. At home you can knock back any bloke and he’ll just take it. Here it’s like you’ve just insulted his mother. So picture the scene – I’m in a pretty dress and good shoes (pretty much first time in Tequis) dancing on the grass (there’s no space on the dance floor) with some sweaty, man with quite the beer belly. He’s trying to teach me (in Spanish) the rumba/salsa/meringa or some other shit. Either way it involves a lot of twirling and me looking longingly at the table holding my free rum. I’m trying not to fall over, I’m also trying not to get my heel stuck in the grass. I’m trying not to swear. I look round, pretty much all of the female teachers I’m there with are subject to the same fate. I grin and bear it. I may have giggled and shook my booty but there’s no photographic evidence to back that up. I did drink all the rum. Unfortunately there is photographic evidence of that but I’ll not subject you to it.
I fear this will not be the last time I’m forced to dance. I may look for lessons.
Start Private Papers of Eastern Jewel by Maureen Lindley
Still reading I am America and So Can You! By Stephen Colbert