The 'Candy Holiday' Extravaganza

A few days before Halloween I was over at my neighbours’ drinking tea, and trying to figure out the logistics of having a costume party in the village.

Due to my lack of imagination the best way I could think to explain Halloween in Azerbaijani was as ‘the candy holiday for children.’ I thought it was a pretty accurate description. Fortunately, someone realised I was talking about Halloween. Although the revelation that such a holiday actually exists caused much laughter - the mother of the family had been sure I’d been joking. America really is a strange and wonderful place.
(But Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory is better.)

I went out and bought an obscene amount of candy from the village store. If nothing else, I could eat it myself. The resulting purchase of two kilos of refined sugar in various forms confused the shopkeeper. Remember this is the guy I buy my mass quantities of spinach and carrots from. I was acting a little bit out of character.

Sunday was a grey and rainy day. Which did not bode well for the mini costume party I had planned for my 6th graders. (The 6th grade English textbook has a text on Halloween.)

The final count was six kids. Three of whom were my landlady’s children (and therefore live across the street.) But I did have one student come who traveled from the opposite side of the village. The other two were my Director’s granddaughters. The number is un-important.

Most importantly: There were costumes. Properly thought out and elaborately executed costumes. There was a pirate – complete with eye patch, goatee and skull and cross bones flag. There was a wizard- complete with starry cone hat and black cape. There was a princess – complete with fur stole and heels. There was a vampire – whose costume consisted of turning up the collar of a black trench-coat yet was very effective. (If said coat had been a few sizes bigger I would have stolen it for myself.) So I’d like to think I spent Halloween in the company of Jack Sparrow, Harry Potter, Princess Anastasia and a distant relative of Edward Cullen. I was so impressed I took pictures.

I’m pretty sure these kids put more thought into their costumes than I have ever put into any of my own. I didn’t dress up especially for the party, but I feel like the bizarre collection of clothing I had to wear in order to stay warm qualifies as a rather convincing impersonation of Miss. Haversham, if she had lived during the 21st century in Azerbaijan. (I would like to take this opportunity to admit the only version I have ever read of Great Expectations was written for 9-year-olds.)

Then we spent a rather enjoyable hour drawing and playing party games. I tried to get the kids to draw jack o’laterns, but my good intentions were thwarted by culture. Pumpkins in Azerbaijan just aren’t shaped that way. Due to improper instruments (read: blunt knife) I had to abandon my attempt to carve a pumpkin. Which was probably the best possible outcome for all involved. Then we played Time Bingo (got to educate at every opportunity) and pin the tail on the donkey. A good time was had by all.

I would consider it a definitive success. Even if the concept of consuming mass quanities of candy was lost on the majority of the attendees – that’s OK more for me!