A Spanish Halloween

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. As a kid, I remember being absolutely mad about TV shows like "Bewitched" and the movies "Hocus Pocus" and "The Witches." They really captivated my attention, and I remember a period when I was obsessed with witches. I read loads of books about the Salem Witch trials, and I still really love the book "The Witch of Blackbird Pond." Creatures of the occult, like Frankenstein, Dracula and werewolves, still fascinate me, for some inexplicable reason.

As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that perhaps one of the reasons I've always loved Halloween is because there is just something completely liberating about letting your imagination run wild and let you be or do whatever your heart desires, even just for a night. It's not so much about the candy (anymore), or even the costumes, to an extent -- I think I really just like the freedom it stands for. I enjoy that it allows creatures (like werewolves, etc) who are normally in the margins the chance to have their day in the shadow, when being a freak or outside of the norm is tolerated. I'm not saying I believe in werewolves, but I mean to use it more as a metaphor for a time when even freaks have their day.

In any case, I was slightly disappointed with the way the Spanish celebrate Halloween. Several of the teachers at my school expressed strong disapproval of Halloween during our lunch break, saying that the day is just another commercialized American holiday coming into their culture and tainting it. I agree with their arguments, and if I were in their shoes, I'm sure I'd be singing the same tune. But it made me miss the States and the celebrations and traditions we have during such a remarkable day.

My school had a small celebration with the bilingual classes (1st to 3rd grade). I found the party super-enjoyable, and my fake witch nose and chin (complete with a gross mole) were a complete hit! Kids, and even unenthusiastic staffers seemed to enjoy the extra effort I put into my costume, and not to brag, but my witch voice was also pretty sweet.

As a language and culture assistant, I thought it was a fantastic opportunity to share my favorite American holiday with the kids, and so I set about making sure they had a memorable Halloween.

Aside from the party, during the usual English class on Thursday (there was no school on Friday), I began taking a trio of kids out of the classroom and having them participate in mock "trick or treating." They'd come to the English classroom, knock on the door, say "trick or treat," and I'd make them stick their hands into black bags of mystery, filled, of course, with frog eyes, horse brains, or rat tails (yes, I did the most ancient and cherished Halloween activities). For the most part, the kids enjoyed it, I think, although a few are still rather gullible and actually thought I had bought frog eyes at El Rastro, a local flea market that takes place each Sunday in Madrid. I had an amazing time scaring the children and forcing them to speak English to me, something they detest doing. To the point that a few of them have it in for me, watching me like hawks to see if I ever speak Spanish at school (which I do, all the time, with the other teachers). It's a bit nerve-wracking to think that I have a clan of 8-year-olds after me, but c'est la vie, right?

At night, Meagan and I hit up the Malasaña neighborhood, the alternative/rocker 'hood, for some bar-hoping ( the 'making friends' thing is a work in progress). We hit up three bars, trying to find places that were at least sort-of celebrating Hallows' Eve. The first two we went to were somewhat successful. The decorations were pretty cool, with the typical pumpkins and spiderwebs associated with the holiday, although the crowd was a slightly different story. The bars were full of stuffy Spaniards who had an awkward way of dancing (there was a stiffness in it that made me think 'flamenco). After a drink, we left each place, hoping the next bar might have tunes that were a) from a more recent time period than Madrid's golden era of rock (the 90s) or b) stuff in English!



We finally found our niche at Molly Malone's, an Irish pub (of course, the closest thing to an American bar in Malasaña). Meagan got a free shiny red devils' wig, we danced the Twist and sang along to Grease songs (not sure how they're related to Halloween, but whatever). I even made a new friend, some Mexican guy who works as a photographer for a big media company in Madrid. He got a kick out of my costume (Frida Kahlo), and kept telling me I was cool -- like I need an ego boost. But he was pretty sloshed, so Meagan and I took the first chance we got to ditch the joint and walk on home. It was 4 am, so I'd say it was a pretty good night, by American standards. Madrid is well-known for their "marchas" or "noches Madrileñas, which begin around 11 pm and end when the sun comes up. I'm not there yet, but maybe someday...

As a final thought, I must say that I'm a bit upset that such an amazing costume idea was wasted on a country that doesn't even know to appreciate Halloween. I mean, I walked around with a unibrow and chongos wrapped around my head for the night, and only one person had the decency to laugh and comment on my costume. As they'd say here, "Que hijos de la gran puta..."