Halloween: Origins & Traditions

Halloween    

Straddling the line between fall and winter, plenty and paucity, life and death, Halloween is a time of celebration and superstition. It is thought to have originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off roaming ghosts. In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a time to honor all saints and martyrs; the holiday, All Saints’ Day, incorporated some of the traditions of Samhain. The evening before was known as All Hallows’ Eve and later Halloween. Over time, Halloween evolved into a secular, community-based event characterized by child-friendly activities such as trick-or-treating. In a number of countries around the world, as the days grow shorter and the nights get colder, people continue to usher in the winter season with gatherings, costumes and sweet treats.

History of The Jack O’Lantern

Every October, carved pumpkins peer out from porches and doorsteps in the United States and other parts of the world. Gourd-like orange fruits inscribed with ghoulish faces and illuminated by candles are a sure sign of the Halloween season. The practice of decorating “jack-o’-lanterns”—the name comes from an Irish folktale about a man named Stingy Jack—originated in Ireland, where large turnips and potatoes served as an early canvas. Irish immigrants brought the tradition to America, home of the pumpkin, and it became an integral part of Halloween festivities.

The Legend of "Stingy Jack"      

People have been making jack-o'-lanterns at Halloween for centuries. The practice originated from an Irish myth about a man nicknamed "Stingy Jack." According to the story, Stingy Jack invited the Devil to have a drink with him. True to his name, Stingy Jack didn't want to pay for his drink, so he convinced the Devil to turn himself into a coin that Jack could use to buy their drinks. Once the Devil did so, Jack decided to keep the money and put it into his pocket next to a silver cross, which prevented the Devil from changing back into his original form. Jack eventually freed the Devil, under the condition that he would not bother Jack for one year and that, should Jack die, he would not claim his soul. The next year, Jack again tricked the Devil into climbing into a tree to pick a piece of fruit. While he was up in the tree, Jack carved a sign of the cross into the tree's bark so that the Devil could not come down until the Devil promised Jack not to bother him for ten more years.

Soon after, Jack died. As the legend goes, God would not allow such an unsavory figure into heaven. The Devil, upset by the trick Jack had played on him and keeping his word not to claim his soul, would not allow Jack into hell. He sent Jack off into the dark night with only a burning coal to light his way. Jack put the coal into a carved-out turnip and has been roaming the Earth with ever since. The Irish began to refer to this ghostly figure as "Jack of the Lantern," and then, simply "Jack O'Lantern."

In Ireland and Scotland, people began to make their own versions of Jack's lanterns by carving scary faces into turnips or potatoes and placing them into windows or near doors to frighten away Stingy Jack and other wandering evil spirits. Immigrants from these countries brought the jack o'lantern tradition with them when they came to the United States. They soon found that pumpkins, a fruit native to America, make perfect jack-o'-lanterns.

(From  http://www.history.com/topics/halloween)

From "The Guardian"

Across Europe, there's a generation with its future on hold

Young people in Greece, Ireland and Spain talk about how the economic crisis is affecting them
 Europe's lost generation costs €153bn a year

·         Helena Smith in Athens, Henry McDonald in Dublin, Giles Tremlett in Alcala de Henares

·         guardian.co.uk, Monday 22 October 2012 06.00 BST

Greek students protest in Athens in front of the Greek parliament. Youth unemployment is at 55.4%, higher than in any other European country. Photograph: Alkis Konstantinidis/EPA

Athens

Glykeria Papadopoulou is young and ambitious. She dreams of becoming a teacher of modern Greek literature. In the four years since she graduated with a degree in the field, she has sent out her CV "hundreds of times", placed adverts in print and online media, and even stickers on lampposts outside schools. But youth unemployment in Greece is at 55.4%, higher than any other EU country.

"It is quite clear that my generation has lost out," she says. "The previous generation didn't think so much about the future. They grew up dreaming of having work, money, a home and family and educating their children and here we are educated and with a home but with no work or money."

She recently signed up to a six-month university course to teach children with learning disabilities, a programme her retired father underwrote to improve his daughter's prospects.

"At least I have a family who looks after me and I don't have to worry about paying house-rent or any bills," she adds. "But being supported by your parents at such an age is also bad for your self-confidence and self-esteem. And there is no way you can have dreams or make plans of having a family or your own."

More women than men account for the growing number of young peoplewho are overeducated and underemployed in Greece. Lack of state support, inevitably, has come also to exacerbate their frustration. Papadopoulou could move abroad – the brain drain has assumed alarming proportions since the eruption of Europe's debt crisis in Athens three years ago – but she doesn't want to.

She added: "I don't want to abandon my country because this is where I have my friends, family and home and in the present climate I'm not convinced it would be easier abroad.

"If Greece is to get out of this crisis, the mentality has to change and that might need many more years, perhaps another generation, for that to happen." Helena Smith

Dublin

Ryan Greene is caught in a jobless limbo. The 20-year-old Dubliner has a minimal qualification in Ireland's version of A-levels, so is not a priority for training projects. But he hasn't enough points from his leaving certificate to get into a third-level college.

His Arsenal shirt, tracksuit bottoms and trainers point to his ambition – to become a fitness trainer or teach physical education. "I'm caught in the middle," he said at the job centre in Ballymun, north Dublin, a high-rise district ravaged by heroin addiction and the presence of armed crime gangs. "I've been unemployed for two years and I come here every single day looking for work, filling in forms, sending around CVs."

Almost 15% of the Irish workforce is out of work with only a quarter of people aged 15-24 holding down a job. Last year 50,000, mainly young Irish citizens, emigrated.

Greene says that while some of his friends have gone to work in mining in Australia he will tough it out at home. "I live with my mum and dad, and I'm lucky I've got a large caring family with loads of brothers and sisters. I couldn't imagine emigrating to somewhere so far away."

The other option that holds out the prospect of money, a car and status for many of his generation is to become a "soldier" in one of the proliferating crime gangs across Dublin. "When I was younger I hung around with a crowd who were into the gangs and I could have easily got roped in. I'm not interested in that. All I want to do is get a job, to train and help others to get fit." Henry McDonald

Alcala de Henares

Alvaro Couceiro dreams of going home to his grandparents' flat in Alcala de Henares, a town near Madrid, and dropping money on the kitchen table. "It would be a way of thanking them for keeping me going," the 19-year-old said. Couceiro left school after the equivalent of GCSEs. He did a training course to be a chef. "I really enjoyed it," he said. "That is what I want to do."

But youth unemployment in Spain is over 50%, and a quarter of all Spaniards are unemployed. And while many are heading back to school, a quarter of Spaniards aged 18-29 neither work nor study.

A temping agency gave him occasional work as a waiter, paid by the hour.

"Though I always knew when I had to start, they never said when I would finish," he said. "One day I went to a hotel at 4pm, worked until 5am and started again at 6am."

Now even temporary work has dried up as Spain's economy collapses into double-dip recession. So Couceiro lives with his grandparents, who feed him and give him a weekly allowance; Spain's welfare state is not generous. his sporadic work history means he has no right to the dole or any other state support. His family is expected to look after him.

"The training courses at the employment office are full and, anyway, they are being cut back - so I have little chance of getting on to one," he says. "I'd do anything to work. If someone called me to clean their house, I'd be there immediately."

Like many young Spaniards, he is thinking of emigrating. None of his friends work. "The lucky ones are studying, the others are like me," he said. "Some say they don't care, but they are lying. Everyone needs money." He is grateful to his grandparents.

"They pretend to have spare pension money to give me, but they only just get to the end of the month," he said. "One day I'll pay them back. For that, I need a job." Giles Tremlett

More on this story:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2012/oct/22/europe-generation-future-on-hold