One of the more enjoyable ways to tour the world is to watch the children’s cinema of foreign countries. More often than not, children’s films are infused with native traditions, are kept at a linguistic level that is manageable for those of us trying to understand a foreign language, and present daily life in simple, optimistic ways. To watch them is to travel without the worries of adult life.

So along with providing first-rate children’s entertainment, the New York International Children’s Festival, which opens this Friday and will run through March 20 at various venues throughout the city, is a treasure trove for amateur cultural anthropologists. Founded by Eric Beckman and Emily Shapiro, who live in TriBeCa with their three children, the festival has delighted and informed moviegoers of all ages since 1997. This year, the festival will screen 93 films, including a competition of 64 new shorts and the premieres of two high-profile films scheduled for national release: “Millions” (March 5), a Danny Boyle film billed as “indie for kids,” soon to be released by Fox Searchlight; and “Steamboy” (March 5), from the director of “Akira,” Katsuhiro Otomo, to be released by Sony Pictures Classics.

This year’s highlight, however, is a series of three films starring girls in their early teens offered under the umbrella “Girls’ P.O.V.” The selections are far edgier than “Anne of Green Gables”: Some parents might flinch at the permissive attitude taken here toward underage smoking and drinking, and riding a bicycle without a helmet. But the series is as earnest as it is edgy.

“The Color of Milk” (March 6), by Torun Lian, set on the beautiful coast of Norway, tells the story of three 12-year-old girls – Selma, Elin, and Ingun – who have sworn off romance. When Selma finds out, via text message, that Elin has kissed a boy, she breaks off the friendship, befriends some boys in her class, and goes on to have a great summer – until she becomes infatuated with a heartthrob Swedish farmhand. The feel of a Norway summer is palpable – long afternoons with extended family at a table in the back yard; bicycle trips with friends to the beach; helping out on the farm; and, best of all, parents who don’t work for the entire month of August – making the film essential virtual vacation fare.

With a similar attention to detail, but starring a slightly older girl and an edgier scenario, is “Little Girl Blue” (March 5). Sandra, a shy, awkward, Swiss German girl who has just moved to a new town, falls in love at first sight with Michael. It’s a somewhat rough neighborhood – the local children pose as gangsters, play a lot of basketball, are extremely promiscuous, and listen to pumped-up German rap and techno – and Sandra’s earnestness does her little good socially. “Little Girl Blue” betrays a passe mentality about marijuana and underage canoodling, but its message in the end is that good, honest children find each other. Or in other words, Sandra doesn’t have to become cool to get the boy.

Rounding out “Girls’ P.O.V.” is an Israeli film, “Miss Entebbe” (March 6), set in Jerusalem during the infamous Entebbe hostage crisis of 1976. Twelve-year-old Noa is getting tired of breaking things at construction sites with her boyish best friend. But when a neighbor’s mother is taken hostage aboard a flight to Paris, knowledge of the sites comes in handy. Noa and her friends steal an Uzi and take an Arab boy hostage with hopes of trading him for the Entebbe hostages. Meanwhile, Noa discovers her parents may be getting a divorce. “Miss Entebbe” has a careful ending: the Arab boy and Noa fall in love, the parents are reconciled, and the hostages are returned safely. But everything could easily have turned out very differently.

Another highlight is a series of heartwarming animated features. Based on a Buddhist fable by a popular Korean writer, the plot of “Oseam” (March 20) will be familiar to anyone who saw last year’s “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring”: a young boy is taken in by a kindly monk in the wilds of rural Korea and finds enlightenment. The scenery is familiar, too: jagged mountains, dramatic autumn foliage, rushing rivers. It’s a must-see on the big screen.

The best part of Hiroyuki Morita’s “The Cat Returns” (March 13), a Studio Ghibli parable about a high school girl named Haru who saves a cat (who turns out to be a Prince) from an oncoming truck with her lacrosse stick, is a quartet of tuxedoed secret-service cats. You’ll know what I mean when you see them. Haru is rewarded with many unwelcome thank-you gifts, including a locker full of mice and catnip pillows. But when the Cat King invites her to the Kingdom of the Cats and tries to force her into marriage, Haru must plot to escape. “The Cat Returns” is one film that cat lovers can’t miss.

Finally, there are two difficult-to-categorize films: “Strings and “Malli.” “Strings”(March 12), a Danish crossing of “Team America” and “The Lord of the Rings,” is set in the fantastical puppet world of Hebalon, which is at war. Though the puppets all talk, not a single one is blessed with the gift of gab, which makes the going weary. But the film’s conformity to the fantasy genre – complete with basement torture scenes, digital landscapes, a swelling score, and shoddy plot development – is sure to inspire a cult following.

And then there is my personal favorite: “Malli” (March 12), about an imaginative Tamil tribal girl who lives in the forest of India. Malli sings songs to the peacock god and dewdrops, saves injured deer, and is given a new green silk skirt, red blouse, and blue half-sari by the postman, or “letter uncle.” When she befriends a deaf girl, Cuckoo, Malli sets off to find a magic stone that will enable her to speak. With its simple musical numbers and sweet, poetic language, “Malli” is a pure pleasure and the most mythical of the films on the roster. It is sure to please young children and anyone who would rather be bathing in a forest pond than riding the subway to work.

For more information about the New York International Children’s Film Festival, call 212-349-0330 or visit www.gkids.com.