Trick or Treat

Today, I was in a Target store (always an expensive experience because you buy all this crap that you didn’t go there for...) and they have their CHRISTMAS decorations out already! I’m talking JOY doormats, red and green towels, and plastic Santa plates! I mean, c’mon, we haven’t even had Hallowe’en yet! It’s mid-October and I’m determined to slow down and enjoy one celebration at a time.

In Belgium, as in much of Europe, Hallowe’en is not celebrated. In fact, I’m pretty sure they think we’re a bunch of kooks who like to cross-dress, ring doorbells in the dark and otherwise act completely nutty. Think about it; early on, we teach our kids not to speak to strangers and then we send them out on a cold, rainy night in a weird get-up to beg for candy at the doors of complete strangers. What are we thinking?

Despite the obvious absurdity, my little family is excited about having a Hallowe’en after three years overseas. There, the Americans in the international community set up a Hallowe’en ritual of sorts in a neighbourhood in which many of them lived. Donating 50 pieces of candy per child in your family got you a map of the neighbourhood and a ticket to join in the fun. It wasn’t exactly door-to-door because the participating homes were pretty far apart from each other but the kids still got to dress up, ring a bell, and yell “Trick or Treat”.

A couple of times, we rang the wrong doorbells by accident, because the house numbers on the map were so small that I had trouble reading them. I couldn’t have been the only one though, because I saw several suspicious Belgians peering out from behind lace curtains at the nonsense on the street and someone called the police, who then cruised by a few times.

On one of the streets, there were quite a few Americans, who decorated their homes with loot collected the previous summer or sent over by an aunt or grandma in time for the scare fest. That street would be thick with kids and parents and the candy would run out quickly. It was only there, on that street, running into people I knew and hearing the kids shout out to classmates, that I felt a tug of nostalgia for the experience “back home”.

I know our street here in St. Louis will be just like that. The houses are cheerfully decorated with carved pumpkins, goblins and fake gravestones. We have hung goofy-looking ghosts from the tree boughs and staked a Happy Hallowe’en sign out front, in case there was any doubt about the new folks on the street participating. We bought these decorations as well as costumes for the kids at a local Hallowe’en store – yes, that’s right, a store open for only six weeks of the year and sells nothing but Hallowe’en stuff!

My kids were shocked when they wandered into the adult aisle in that store. There, you can choose costumes with a big penis hanging in front, or fake pubic hair sticking out of a t-shirt and pants like Austen Powers in his eponymous movies. Personally, I’m surprised by the number of adult costumes in the stores. You too can be a sleezy-looking Dorothy, a sexy Superwoman or a naughty French Maid. Is it just St. Louis, or did I not notice before? I don’t remember that from Toronto and I guarantee that I never saw it in Brussels, except in the real costume store down by the Grand Place, patronized by real cross-dressers and Belgians who dress up only once per year for late-winter Carnival parties.

My husband and I got invited to a costume party once in Brussels. He hates that kind of thing, but I persuaded him to go because I really loved the hosts, a Swedish dad and South African mom who were a ton of fun. We decided to go as Sonny and Cher. I have never had long hair, so I thoroughly enjoyed swinging my rented hip-length straight black hair over my shoulders. “Do I look like Cher?” I asked my husband, who had covered his thinning locks with a wavy brown wig, complete with sideburns, a little moustache, and a glittery open-necked seventies shirt that can only be described as a blouse. No, he said, you look like Elvira, but I look like a parking lot attendant, so let’s not worry about it. Sure enough, we were more obvious than most during the party game where you had to find a certain celebrity in a room full of international guests dressed as not-so-famous Danish singers, French character actors and obscure European politicians.

So now I’m nervous because we were invited to a Hallowe’en party and I’m guessing we probably are expected to dress up. Yikes. Well the kids are ready anyway. My daughter has a blue wig and fake blue eyelashes, but otherwise isn’t sure what she’s going to be. At 11 years of age, she’s not certain if she’s too old to go out trick-or-treating but she’s too proud to admit it, so she’s volunteered to hand out candy at the door. My 9-year old son has no such reservations. He just finished the Harry Potter series and is all set with his round glasses, black cape, and Gryffindor tie.

Trick or treat!