Pumpkins on doorsteps, witches on broomsticks and a small army of superheroes knocking on your door asking for sweets. Halloween feels like one of those celebrations the whole world shares.
Except it isn't. Not quite.
Travel a few hundred miles in almost any direction and the same few days at the end of October take on a completely different name, meaning and mood. Which makes Halloween a surprisingly good lesson in why translating the words is only half the job.
Same night, different names
The word Halloween is itself a shortened form of All Hallows' Eve, the night before All Saints' Day on 1 November. Its roots go back further still, to Samhain, the Celtic festival marking the end of harvest and the start of winter.
So it's fitting that the places where it all began still have their own names for it:
Ireland: OĂche Shamhna, meaning Samhain night
Scotland: Oidhche Shamhna, also Samhain night
Wales: Nos Calan Gaeaf, the night of the winter calends
Isle of Man: Hop-tu-Naa, probably "this is the night"
Cornwall: Allantide, the feast of St Allan
Portugal and Brazil: Dia das Bruxas, the Day of the Witches
China: Wà nshèngjié, the festival of all saints
Each of these frames the night a little differently. One puts the spotlight on the change of season, another on witches, another on saints. It's a good reminder that even a single word can arrive in another language carrying very different baggage.
Trick or treat? It depends who's asking
Even Halloween's best-known catchphrase gets a makeover as it travels.
In Germany, children ask for SĂĽĂźes oder Saures, which means "sweet or sour". In France, it's des bonbons ou un sort, "sweets or a spell", which sounds rather more serious. Spanish speakers often say Âżtruco o trato?, a fairly literal version that doesn't roll off the tongue quite as neatly. Japan has simply borrowed the English sounds.
In Scotland, meanwhile, children have long gone "guising" and are expected to earn their treats with a joke, song or poem. No performance, no sweets.
Same idea, slightly different deal. And that's exactly what happens to any message when it crosses a border.
When the spooky meets the sacred
This is where things can get a little awkward.
In Mexico, the big celebration is DĂa de los Muertos on 1 and 2 November. It's often described as "Mexican Halloween", but it really isn't. It's a joyful, colourful time for families to remember loved ones, with home altars, marigolds and sugar skulls. Less horror film, more family reunion.
In Poland, Italy and the Philippines, the same dates are for visiting cemeteries and lighting candles on graves. In Catalonia, it's all about roasted chestnuts at La Castanyada. In Portugal, children go door to door on 1 November for PĂŁo-por-Deus, collecting bread and cakes rather than fun-size chocolate bars.
Now imagine a brand launching a cheerful zombie-themed campaign in one of those markets on 1 November. The translation might be flawless. The timing and tone? Not so much.
Translation, meet localisation
That's the difference between translation and localisation.
Translation makes sure the words are right. Localisation makes sure the message is right, for that audience, in that country, at that moment. It takes in culture, customs, humour, timing and tone, so what you say lands the way you meant it to.
It matters whether you're launching a seasonal campaign, adapting your website for a new market, or simply wishing your overseas customers a happy holiday. A message that works brilliantly in Sheffield might fall completely flat in Seville, Shanghai or SĂŁo Paulo.
At Talking Heads, localisation is what we do. For more than 27 years, we've worked with professional, native-speaking linguists in over 150 languages who understand not just the language, but the culture behind it.
We can't help you carve a better pumpkin. But making sure your message isn't lost in translation, wherever in the world it's going? That's our kind of treat.