Tenerife Does Halloween

Most people realize that Halloween is an American thing, but some well-intentioned souls here have tried to celebrate it, too. Ashley, Ruyman’s seven year-old sister, was dying to go trick-or-treating. That’s how we ended up out on the streets in a rough part of town on Monday night. The barrio of La Salud had convinced a few old people on a pedestrian-friendly street to hand out candy. The concept itself was spot on, but the execution made for the strangest trick-or-treating experience I’ve ever had.

First, we had to wait for an hour outside a community center while the people in charge got organized. By the time they rallied everyone together, there was a fleet of little witches and zombies. (I guess those are the only two Halloween costumes they know about over here). The adults divided the kids into three groups, and then set off for the designated neighborhood. 

Ashley the witch

This was about the time the chanting started. “Queremos caramelos. Queremos caramelos.” (“We want candy. We want candy.”) Chanting and marching through the narrow European streets, I kept expecting to see someone whip out the torches and pitchforks so we could go kill the beast. I’m pretty sure if someone had started it, the rest would’ve followed, so long as there was candy and everyone held hands crossing the street. It gave me the hibbity jibbities.

For the send off, there was a haunted house, which we had to wait another hour and a half to get into. Since these are the same people who trample folks after soccer games, an orderly line was out of the question. A great crush of sugared up kids and cranky adults pulsed against the door and, once more, started chanting. For someone who hates crowds, getting into the haunted house was by far the scariest part.

That’s not to say that the haunted house was weak sauce. The designers of the spooktacular had the Spanish Inquisition as part of their cultural heritage, which means they did gruesome and torturous just fine. A particularly nice touch was the fake lanced bodies dangling over the entrance and a butcher shop that would make Sweeney Todd feel right at home.

The exterior of the community center 

So does Halloween have a future in Spain? The future of haunted houses looks bright, but I don’t think I want to trick or treat here again. I might end up in a lynch mob instead.