On the evening of October 31, 2025, the streets of Spain were awash with the sights and sounds of Halloween. Skeletons, ghosts, and monsters—some sporting elaborate costumes, others donning simple face paint—paraded through city avenues, their laughter ringing out as children and adults alike reveled in the festivities. Pumpkins adorned doorsteps, fake cobwebs stretched across balconies, and shops overflowed with sweets and spooky decorations. In Paracuellos de Jarama, a town just northeast of Madrid, dozens of houses transformed into haunted spectacles, with one family even converting their home into a pirate ship, complete with recycled wood and a billowing sail. According to the Associated Press, "the lights, music, and 30 kilos (66 pounds) of candy, which ran out in less than two hours, made it one of the most popular" stops for trick-or-treaters.
Yet, as the echoes of Halloween faded into the night, a very different scene unfolded the next morning. November 1 marked All Saints' Day, a solemn Catholic tradition in Spain and many other countries. In stark contrast to the Halloween revelry, an older generation quietly made their way to cemeteries, arms laden with bouquets. At Madrid's Almudena cemetery—the largest in Spain, with some five million souls laid to rest—flower stalls lined the entrance, ready for families who arrived early to honor their deceased loved ones. The tradition, as reported by AP and corroborated by world news outlets, involves cleaning graves and spending time in reflection, a ritual steeped in reverence and remembrance.
But the lines between these two traditions are blurring. Over recent years, the sober rituals of All Saints' Day have increasingly given way to the vibrant, commercialized customs of Halloween. Sweets, fake blood, and spider webs—imported from one of the United States' most iconic holidays—are now as much a part of the season as chrysanthemums and candlelit vigils. As sociologist José Bobadilla explained to AP, "the process of a new, more Americanized culture has had an influence not only in Europe." He added, "the current celebration, which is spreading throughout the world, downplays the idea that it is a time to remember those who are no longer with us."
The roots of this shift run deep. Halloween itself traces back to Samhain, a pagan festival marking the end of summer and the harvest, a time when it was believed the boundary between the living and the dead grew thin. Over centuries, Christian traditions like All Saints' Day layered new meanings onto these ancient rituals, transforming them into occasions for remembrance and prayer. But in 21st-century Spain, as in many parts of the world, the pendulum is swinging once more. Younger generations are embracing the fun and spectacle of Halloween, while the more reflective customs of All Saints' Day are losing ground.
"We always come on (Nov) 1st," said Alicia Sánchez, a 69-year-old retiree interviewed at Almudena cemetery. She lamented the waning interest among young people: "I don’t like Halloween because it’s not our holiday. But everyone has their traditions, and that should be respected." For Sánchez and many of her peers, the tradition is about more than ritual—it’s a way to connect with family history and honor those who came before.
Others, like 87-year-old Paz Sánchez, noticed the thinning crowds. Visiting her husband’s grave with her son, she remarked on the emptiness of the usually bustling cemetery: "Maybe they don’t feel like getting up early to come to the cemetery." Her observation points to a generational gap that is becoming ever more pronounced.
Meanwhile, in Paracuellos de Jarama, Halloween’s popularity has exploded. What began as a modest gathering among a handful of neighbors has grown into a full-fledged community event. Streets teem with costumed children, houses compete for the most creative decorations, and families like Miguel Izquierdo’s go all out. Izquierdo, who runs an audiovisual production company, described the joy it brings: "We like it because it’s a party, because it’s a costume party, and because there’s candy." He and his family have participated for three years, drawn by the sheer fun and the delight on children’s faces.
Still, not everyone is entirely comfortable with the change. Antonia Martín, 68, joined the Halloween celebrations for the first time this year—for her grandchildren’s sake, she said, but without donning a costume herself. "I don’t dislike the party, but I think it’s not part of our traditions," she admitted. Her words echo a common sentiment among older Spaniards who see Halloween as an enjoyable, if foreign, import.
Sociologist José Bobadilla attributes this cultural evolution to broader societal trends. "The cultural change did not happen overnight, but is a consequence of the secularization of societies," he explained. As Spain and other nations become less religiously observant, traditional rituals tied to faith lose some of their pull. In their place, more universal, commercialized celebrations—often exported from the United States—take root. Halloween, with its promise of fun, creativity, and sugar-fueled excitement, has proven especially irresistible.
According to coverage by News USA and Northern BC, November 1, 2025, was widely observed as All Saints' Day across Spain, with images capturing the quiet dignity of families tending graves and sharing memories. Yet the contrast with the previous night’s Halloween festivities was impossible to ignore. The two holidays, once distinct, now coexist—sometimes uneasily—within the same cultural space.
For many, this coexistence is simply a reflection of a changing world. Young people, shaped by global media and the lure of novelty, are less inclined to follow in the footsteps of their elders. The allure of costumes, candy, and communal fun outweighs the pull of tradition. As AP noted, "it does not appear that they will follow in the footsteps of their elders." The commercial side of Halloween, with its roots in American pop culture, is supplanting ancestral customs at a rapid pace.
Yet even as the old ways recede, there are those who continue to cherish them. For families gathered in cemeteries on All Saints' Day, the act of cleaning a grave or laying fresh flowers remains a powerful gesture—a way of keeping memories alive, even as the world around them changes. For others, Halloween offers a chance to build new traditions, ones that may someday become just as meaningful.
Spain’s evolving autumn celebrations are a microcosm of broader cultural shifts playing out around the globe. As secularization deepens and Americanized customs spread, societies are reimagining what it means to honor the past—and to celebrate the present. Whether in the quiet hush of a cemetery or the raucous joy of a Halloween parade, the search for connection endures, taking new forms with each passing generation.
As the last candle flickers out and the final bag of candy is emptied, Spain stands at a crossroads, its traditions both changing and enduring in unexpected ways.
