By David Haldane<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Nov. 15, 2018<\/p>\r\n\r\n
I have always had mixed feelings about Halloween. On the one hand, of course, it\u2019s fun to see little witches and goblins asking for treats at your door. On the other, the holiday has, over the years, become increasingly commercialized. And in the United States, at least, it seems to have evolved into something of an excuse for adults to dress up in skimpy costumes and consume large amounts of alcohol with their friends.<\/p>\r\n
Here in the Philippines, the story is somewhat different; while most people, even in the provinces, have certainly heard of the holiday, its customs have not yet taken root. So this year my sweet and generous wife decided to do her bit to change all that.<\/p>\r\n
First, a bit of background. When Ivy initially arrived in the U.S. as my fianc\u00e9 in 2008, she knew very little about Halloween. Wanting to be a good wife and loyal American, however, she took right to it. We quickly formed the habit of observing the holiday annually, mostly by attending costume parties put on by our friends. Later, after most in our circle, including us, became parents, those parties evolved into elaborate affairs involving door-to-door trick-or-treating with the kids. In fact, Ivy enjoyed it so much that she kept all her costumes.<\/p>\r\n
Ok, fast forward to 2018; now we\u2019re in the Philippines about to experience our first Halloween abroad. Needless to say that in Surigao, where we live, there aren\u2019t a whole lot of parties going on. So Ivy comes up with an idea of her own; why not bring Halloween to the province? More specifically, to Caridad; the tiny thatched-roof village on Siargao Island where she was born and much of her family still resides.<\/p>\r\n\n\t\t\t