Halloween in GTO

I knew I had to suck it up and stop wallowing in self misery and participate in my first Halloween abroad. But I'm in a new town with more acquaintances than friends, and I'm at this point where everything at home seems shiny and precious. I know it will change, I will make friends and become more comfortable, but I really miss my friends, my family, my people, my bars, my COMFORTS basically. But skipping Halloween in Mexico is impossible because IT COMES TO YOU.

The day before Halloween, Katie and I were sitting at our table both working on our computers, and heard what sounded like a parade coming down the street. We hear chanting, "Queremos Halloween! Queremos Halloween!" and we're like, WTF? We had been warned that the kids in Mexico will come for 3 days for Halloween, but that sounded totally fabricated, like the street my friend Camelo was telling me was haunted by a pig. But sure enough, the day before Halloween, we open the door to 15-20 screaming adorable Mexican kids.
Luckily we were prepared, had stopped at the dulceria that day and bought a crap-load of typical Mexican candy. You know, watermelon/chili pepper suckers, chocolate suckers with a gooey salsa center, and chocolate pesos. Some of the smaller kids were so adorable I contemplated kidnapping, but some of the teens that passed by seemed closer to our age and tried to talk to us about how cool our tattoos were. Some kids I know for sure walked around the corner, swapped masks, and came back around again, but I didn't have the energy or desire to argue with them in Spanish. Halloween in Mexico isn't like the states where you give each kid a handful of candy. Halloween night our doorbell was ringing every 20-30 seconds and we would have another group of 15 kids or so. Even giving out one candy a piece, we still ran out early on the third day. But the door kept ringing. The look we got telling chubby Mexican kids on Halloween that "no tenemos mas, lo siento," was like telling them we were vampires and would suck their brains out. Some kids were so sweet, polite and accepting of our apologies (Katie and I kept saying wearily, "It's your turn,") that we were looking for household objects to spare. ("Les gusta un peanut butter sandwich? No? How about a toaster?) The last kid that stopped by before we finally shut the lights off got package of fake tattoos I had bought for Katie's costume. He looked at me like, "are you for real?" And that made up for lacking candy.

Our friends Camelo (Canadian) and Kent (originally from NYC) own a really cool bar called Fusilado in Valenciana. They told us they were having a costume party. So we scrapped together some costumes. The night before I had bought a gold mask in front of Teatro Juarez en el centro, to find it half of it chewed in the morning. We have four dogs here, and I can't even begin to explain how completely insane they are, although my love for them is growing, they still eat everything from garbage to our decorative cactus plants. Katie had all of her underwear and the majority of her bras eaten, two nights ago they ate my sunglasses and if you leave your plate unattended for even a split second, you will find a sheepish looking dog, eating rapidly, (RIP Zoe.)

I spent the majority of Halloween gluing and re-piecing my mask back together.
I decided I would paint myself gold and go as a trophy wife, because Katie said my mask made me look like an Oscar. She decided she would go as the statue of Nefertiti, which eventually led to being Nefertiti herself. She pulled down the curtains, cut out some cardboard and made a head piece, then found this gorgeous necklace in town. I didn't really own much trophy wife attire, but put on a silver and green dress of katie's and my "robin hood" suede boots. I had already covered myself in gold, and katie cracked up laughing and said I didn't look like a trophy wife at all, but something that came out of the forest. On the cab ride to Fusilado, we decided that I was Fern Goldie, trophy wife of Frotto Baggins.

When we walked into the bar, I'm not kidding, all eyes were on her. Her costume and makeup were completely amazing.

Camelo lives right next door to Fusi, and because we the bar was so packed, we went to his house to use the bathroom. Somehow this turned into a photo shoot. (We both get distracted very easily, and his house is like a museum and has great lighting.)




A band played later at the bar, called Casa Verde which is this assortment of musicians from all over the world. Kent told me they are rarely all in the same country at the same time, let alone the same small bar in Mexico, so we were lucky. They were absolutely incredible, full of energy, and played for hours and hours while we all danced.

Do you ever have those nights where you look around and realize everyone is WAY more intoxicated than you? As everyone got more drunk, I was feeling more distant, more disconnected. I looked around and didn't see anyone I really knew, anyone I really cared to be with. Katie was there of course, but she is such a social butterfly and had already made new friends. I just wasn't feeling it. So I told my friend Ilan who works at Fusi to call a cab. I think he saw the desperation in face. It took forever, but a cab finally came and picked me up. Drunken Camelo tried to give me shit for leaving, and I wasn't having it. I went to sleep and woke up in a pile of gold and glitter.