Halloween in France

France, I love you, I really, do and I will always defend your honor in a bar fight, but please… leave Halloween alone.

Before I moved to France, Olivier explained to me that Halloween doesn’t really exist here; that a few people will dress up, or do something Halloween-like, but that it is largely an American holiday and that French people don’t really give a shit about it. Okay… that’s understandable. Especially since French people have their own ‘Day of the Dead,’ as it were.

Many French people do observe the traditions that are at the origins of our Halloween. On November 1st, la Toussaint, or All Saint’s Day, French people all over the country are visiting their loved ones in the cemeteries, leaving chrysanthemums on their graves. Many people have the day off from work. It is an actual holiday in France.

All the more reason to leave Halloween alone.

My first Halloween in France, Olivier and I were living in Paris. We decided to go out to dinner and a movie. I had almost forgotten that it was October 31st. There wasn’t a sign of Halloween anywhere. After the movie, we ran across the street to a “Tex-Mex” restaurant called Indiana.

Our waitress came to take our order. Her face was covered in garish makeup, a piratey sort of do-rag sat on her head. I looked around & noticed that the staff were all in costume. Sort of. It was hard to tell what anyone was supposed to be, but there were some Halloween decorations up on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. All of the customers were normal.

After she walked away, I asked Olivier, “What the fuck is she? A pirate? A vampire? What?”

“I don’t know,” he said, squinting at the waitress. “A vampire pirate? We never even heard of Halloween until recently. Most people here don’t know what’s going on, or what to do.”

He’s right. Most people around here simply have no idea what in the hell Halloween is all about, why people are dressed up or what Trick-or-Treating is. And the fact of the matter is, most of them don’t care. It’s still fairly new  and hasn’t been catching on very well.

Olivier and I did the only thing that we could do – we started doing our own thing every October 31st. We break out the fondue pots and the pants with the elastic waist. We stock up on bottles of cidre and mead. We crank up Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. We clink our glasses & say “cheers” to all the people we know who happen to be dead. Good enough.

Then, a few years later, we moved into an apartment building infested with these loud little squawky things… kids, I guess you can call them.

It was last year when we saw the announcement hanging in the lobby that warned all the tenants that on Halloween night, the kids would be going door-to-door, so please have plenty of candy.

“Fine,” we said.  Olivier told me, too, that some friends of his at work who had small children had been dressing up for Halloween and having little classroom parties. So, I began to feel a little hopeful… maybe it really was catching on! Maybe all of those chrysanthemum-toting Franks had found the spirit of Halloween and weren’t just following along with some American fad.

At the grocery store a few days later, we were tossing bags of gummy candy into our cart, rejoicing in the prospect of having a REAL Halloween.

That Halloween night we waited, as we sat in front of our fondue pot, pouring mead down our gullets. The sky grew dark. The bottle became empty. The gooey fromage goodness in the pot was now gone, nothing more remained aside from the cold, coagulated crust that clung to the sides of the pot.

Those little shits never came.

“What are we going to do with all of this motherfucking gummy candy?” I asked Olivier.

“Well, um… we eat it.”

Halloween. Two inebriated adults, stuffed full of cheese with two enormous bags of gummy candy. It was not a pretty sight.

This year, there was no warning. No announcement hanging in the lobby of our building. But, when we were at the grocery store a few weeks ago, Olivier said that we should get some candy. “For the kids on Halloween,” he said. Funny enough, the stores do sell candy packaged in big bags for Halloween. Of course they do. They stand to make a few bucks. “Whatever,” I said, walking away.

Aside from planning our annual fondue feast, I hadn’t given Halloween much thought this year. So, it was more than a little unexpected when on the afternoon of October 30th, our doorbell rang.

“Who the fuck could that be?”

“Do you think it’s kids?” Olivier asked.

“No.  It’s the middle of the day and Halloween isn’t until tomorrow,” I said.

Olivier went to the door and when he opened it, sure enough… there stood 6 or 7 little kids. One was a pumpkin. Another one was a Grim Reaper (I think) and the rest of them were wearing normal, every day clothes. No costumes. A couple of moms stood behind them, looking bored.

“Give us some candy,” the happy tiny people said.

Olivier decided to mess with them. “What will you do if I don’t?” he asked, trying to prompt them into a “Trick or Treat” sentiment.

It didn’t work. He was answered with blank expressions. So, he complimented the ones who bothered to wear a costume and gave them some candy.

After he closed the door, I asked, “What the hell was that? No costumes? Give us candy? It’s the middle of the day & isn’t even Halloween yet.”

“I guess those moms decided to do it when they felt like it,” he shrugged. “They don’t care about when it really is, what it means, or doing it right.”

I think the most horrifying Halloween terror that I have ever seen was the look on my French husband’s face when I exclaimed, “OUTRAGE! THIS ALL HALLOW’S EVE BLASPHEMY WILL BE BLOGGED!”

That was it. No more kids… and there we were again, two inebriated adults, stuffed full of cheese with two enormous bags of fucking candy.

This day means something to a lot of people… more than Christmas, more than birthdays. They plan ALL YEAR for this night. Either have fun with it or, if you’re not into it, then don’t bother. But, please… please don’t do it half-assed just because it’s trendy.

Now, to be fair… I know there are French people out there who understand Halloween, due to having knowledge and/or appreciation of American culture. Or maybe because they understand how different places of the world celebrate Halloween-type traditions. Or, hell… because it’s fucking fun. I know that they are out there, in costumes, participating in Halloween celebrations, having parties and genuinely enjoying our tradition, rather than treating it like a cheap fad.

Also… if you know where these French people are, point them my way so we can party next Halloween.

Otherwise, I may have to embark on a one-woman campaign to introduce another time-honored Halloween tradition to France.