Bullfight~San Miguel Pt 3

When we first arrived in San Miguel, the friend that suggested we make the trip all but insisted that we immediately buy tickets for the bullfights comming up as part of the Bi-Centennial celebration. I had some trepidation, to say the least, but we were so lost in the magic of being here that it just seemed to be an enevitable and undeniable part of the experience. So we bought the tickets without much of a second thought…besides, it was so far in the future, as if that would somehow lessen the impact of what was to come. Trust me when I say that it did not~
As the day neared, I found myself asking myself more that once, “Am I really going to a bullfight in a few days? Really?” I am the first one to be seduced into deep appreciation for how different peoples construct their realities and lives. I believe that it is one of the most beautiful aspects of being a human. And, I am all about walking the edge. I have lived much of my life from there in fact. Still, sometimes things take you further that you feel you should go, or at least further that you want to. This was definitely one of those times.
The night before was my birthday and we had an amazing time hanging out with old and new friends, drinking great tequilla, a bit of dancing, watching the city’s fireworks from high up on the hill, and hanging out in the hot tub under a glorious sky. One of the people I was luck enough to connect deeply with on this journey, who also attended my Birthday celebration with his sister, wife, and daughters was an incredible jewler named David Godinez. I will likely have more to say about him in a later post. Being a native, in the few snipets of time I got to spend with him I learned much about the incredible richness of the history of this land and her people. As I’ve said, perhaps more on this another time.
The next morning comes, along with sleeping in, and breakfast, and the hot sun, until at last it is time. My heart is not sure how to feel about what we are going to see. The truth is that I really had no idea, and I tried to convince myself that it couldn’t really be that bad, right? As we travelled the now semi-familiar streets to our friend’s house, she came to the door much more dressed up than I personally had ever seen her, not that I’d known her that long or that terribly well. Still, she being from this area and all, it was obviously an occasion that people dressed up for. OK, sounds good to me, lets go.
She live just a few blocks from the bullfight ring, the “Plaza De Toros”. It was a short walk, but the foot traffic thickened quickly during the last block or so. We were also trying to sell our extra ticket, but quickly abandoned that idea (scalping bullfight tickets? Couldn’t have seen that one comming!) It was busy and crowded and loud and festive, not unlike going to a baseball game. As we were almost to the gate in I looked to my right to see a man in full regalia posing for photos with a handful of unbelievably gorgeous Mexican Ladies who later turned out to be the main Matador. There seemed to be very little rhyme or reason concerning how one was to get to their seats. You just sort of had to get there. Once we were situated it was fine. People were selling popcorn and cups of local fruit with chile’ on them, and drinks etc, just like our sport events here. I got to see why our seats in the shade cost more as the folks on the other side were pounded by the relentless sun for the duration of the event without a moment of relief. The band would play the same local sounds that I’d heard daily during my time here, then stop , then start again. This was to happen throughout the entire event. At one point a carraige pulled by two horses rode the main Matador another man, a woman, and some children around the circular arena a number of times. The first time or two the crowd cheered and the horse drawn party waved and smiled, but the crowd quickly lost interest and watched patiently while the final laps were made. A few more false starts from the band and out came about 20 or so men, dressed as elaborately as you would imagine. Then out came the matador for the first round, more cheers. The men retreated to their 4 respective slits in the otherwise solid 5 foot high walls, with each opening covered by another 5 foot high wall, each measuring about 4 feet accross. The Matador and 2 or 3 other men with capes more pink than red remained inside. Enter the bull…the games have begun. What happened next was exactly what you might expect yet more gruesome than you’d imagine. After a few passes with main guy and the bull, the field was soon filled with 6 or so men with capes, plus the Matador, swishing and swirling capes, dizzying the bull as the bull was stuck and stabbed again and again and again, its huge brown body gushing blood out of the multitude of wounds inflicted upon it, but still it charged, causing more than on of the “assistant matadors?” to dive over the wall to his own safety, but as soon as it was clear he was back in the fray. More swirling, and stabbing and bleeding and dizzying. About 13 unforgiving minutes later, the bull finally fell, likely as glad to be done with it all as I was. Some man, who I will call “the finisher” came out with his knife, about 8 inches long, and stabbed the felled beast in the back of the head and cut off his ears, the expected trophy for the Matador to whom he hands them as the crowd cheers. The body is then attached by chains around the head and dragged around the field, by the same carraige-pulling horses from earlier, a display of triumph I suppose, and then dragged off the field and the gates close behing them. I felt like I had just witnssed a gang killing of a rival gang member. There wes little to no artistry from what I could see and I was very deeply disturbed. Actually it was more like shock really. Some men came out and readied the field for the next round. My stomach was slightly sick as I sought to understand and not judge what I had just seen. Being a meat eater, the irony of my reaction was not lost on me. If I can eat it, why can’t I watch it being killed, or even kill it myself? Thus is how removed I personally, and perhaps most who read this are from the cultivating of our food. Interesting, to say the least. I have also been told more than once that the bulls raised for this purpose are treated like kings and usually live and eat better than the people that their final moments are designed to entertain. Also, I am told that the bulls are in fact eaten and their hides used as well. I cannot prove or disprove these things, but it would be nice if at least this was true. And even if it is, it doesn’t really soften the visual blow to the heart of what I saw.
Round two, and this Matador is even more ornate than the first one, full of pomp and fire. He struts around the field and awaits his dance with his beast. This bull is even bigger and more robust than the first, immediately chasing anyone he see over or through the wall. There are really only two “assistants” this time, but the dance is really between the Matador and the bull. The man has an amazing style and it looks much more like what I expected a bullfight to look like. His use of the cape to dance with the bull was mesmerising instead of dizzying. He was cocky, yes, he would have to be, but he was also keenly aware that he was in the ring with a beast that was bigger than him and could easily kill him and he respected that. As he taunted, and teased, and stabbed and eventually killed the beast, I could tell that he also had respect for it. At one time the beast actually had him up against the wall and gouged him pretty good. He could easily have been a goner and his crew had to interceed in a hurry to distract the bull from inflicting further damage. He also had a couple of assistants on horseback, though they didn’t do much. During one particular horrifying moment the bull had one of the horses, who were blindfolded for obvious reasons, up against the was and was ramming and gouging the poor horse who was now bleeding through a visible hole gouged in it’s side. Still, bleeding but less gorey than the first, the bull did fall…then “the finisher”…then the ears….then the slight limp to bow to the crowds, trying his best to show that it wasn’t as bad as it likely was. More music and the field was prepared once again. It was not as bad as the horrid first round, but it still went from a proud and raging beast to a slump of soulless meat in under 15 minutes, all for our viewing pleasure. I cannot honestly say that I myself was actually pleased however.
Alas, one round to go and this time it was “the man”, who was evidently a very famous Mexican Bullfighter. This entire round was to be on horseback, with only one assistant. This man was a true artist of the form. He had as much command over his horse as he did with his deadly blades as he did over the audience. His bulles was by far the biggest and meanest, breaking the gate of the hinges that he entered through and running for the first man he saw, not only chasing him over the wall, but doing his best to break through the wall to get to him. After the last round I was really afraid for the horses most of all since there was obviously no hope unlitmately for the bull. At last the bull saw the man on horseback and the games were on. Ever couple of swords or so the Matador would ride off through the gates and reappear moments later on a new horse. I suppose not being blindfolded, the experience was even more traumatic for them than it was for me. As i’ve said, this man was an artist and would deliver his swords over his head, backwards, twisted and barely mounted upon his steed and all within a very small area upon the beasts back creating very little blood. As the beast was weakening he let his assistant do a bit of the dance to do the final weaking and tiring of the bull. He then got down off of his horse, and ordered everyone back. He walked right up to the bull and put his knee right between the bulls horns and on its skull. With a yell and a nudge, the bull fell over, never to rise again.
There is everything to say and nothing to say about this amazing, horrifying, and disturbingly magnificent display of man against beast. It is what is. I am glad I got to experience it…and I doubt I’ll ever go again. Wow the things we humans create to do with our time huh?
Let me know your thoughts~

Advertisement

~ by shamantrablog on September 20, 2010.