In 1992 my wife and I spent a half year travelling in Southeast Asia, doing the backpacking deathroute from INdonesia up through Malaysia and Thailand, flying to Nepal and ending in India.
The 31st of October found us in a small mountain village on the Annapurna trek, perhaps the village was Chamje or Jagat, I forget. The village was very small, just a number of buildings on either side of the path leading up and around the mountain. To one side the mountain rose steeply, to the other side a sharp drop, no more than 10-15 buildings all in all.
There were a number of other Americans and Canadians in the loose group we were trekking with. It suddenly hit me that it was Halloween! And, to my great suprise, there was a pumpkin standing on the doorstep of the teahouse where we were sitting!
The woman wouldn't sell the pumpkin, it was destined to become soup for dinner that evening. Another of the local women pulled me aside and motioned that I should follow. She lead me up a path slightly away from the village, pulled a ring of rusty keys from he belt and opened a rickety wooden door set back in a stone drywall -- inside, a pumpkin patch! I chose one (not the biggest, I was buying their food!) and bartered (not too hard), took my prize back to the teahouse and began carving a jack o'lantern.
The locals were amazed, they'd never seen anything like it. One of the Nepali guides explained to the locals our tradition of the jack o'lantern keeping the wandering spirits at bay on All Hallow's Eve. One of the locals asked through the guide if we thought the spirits could find their way here. Ehhh...no, we replied.
The oldest and most decrepite woman in the village came up, scrutinized the pumpkin with her good eye and mummbled some words to the guide. "She says, tonight, man, tomorrow, soup!" he translated. We laughed, ate our dinner, enjoyed the evening and went to bed.
The next morning, the jack o'lantern was gone. We had pumpkin soup for breakfast.