Halloween in Israel is just like any other non-Jewish holiday in Israel – nothing happens. The only reason I know it’s Halloween is because my overseas Facebook friends remind me and also because many of my new Israeli immigrant friends are still celebrating what they used to celebrate back in their home country.
I not-so-fondly remember how one of my former roommate’s religious Jewish friends found it appropriate to talk our ears off about how much she misses the Christmas spirit that you don’t get in Israel. Not only that, she also found it appropriate to sing Christmas jingles on the Sabbath table.
I also remember that back in Canada, the Jewish holiday spirit was virtually non-existent. And Christmas jingles on the radio made me suffer a severe case of projectile vomiting syndrome every year. Moving to Israel was so refreshing. Finally I can feel the spirit of the holidays that fit who I am – a Jew – and I sure as hell do not need a fellow Jew to remind me of what I’ve had to suffer for 15 years.
HOWEVER! Halloween shreds. As a lover of horror movies, horror books, zombies, skeletons and creepy things, Halloween is the one holiday I always enjoyed.
So to celebrate, last night, I read some short stories by the horror master, Stephen King, and had rather vivid nightmares all night long as a result. This morning, I listened to some creepy King Diamond tunes. And tonight, I’ll be watching a horror movie with my boyfriend. That’s as good as Halloween gets in Israel.
The nightmares I had all involved animals in one way or another. In one, I was trapped in the middle of a circle of dozens of enormous creatures, many of which looked like some genetically-modified buffalos. And the circle was closing in on me. In another, I watched as a father tiger attacked his cub, beating him on his upper back, as all contents spilled out. The cub’s shrieks echoed in my head the entire morning. And finally, in a stark resemblance to Stephen King’s “The Cat From Hell”, I had a nightmare about a cat attacking my face. I tried kicking him, but found that my legs refused to move. But then, when the cat walked backwards, sprinted and leaped once more, I manage to lift my foot up and kick him square in the chest. At that moment, I woke up and found myself kicking the air, and my winter blanket was on the floor.
I would rather have dreams about me being a zombie out for brains, or being a vampire out for blood. But I guess that’s what I get for reading a story about a guy being attacked by a cat, and having the cat claw its way into the guy’s mouth, down his throat, into his belly, and finally dig a hole from the inside of his stomach, and leap back out, drenched in blood. Hurray for Halloween!
Peace, love and GORE!!!