En la plaza de los toros...

**Before I write anything, I want to tell you that I will be talking about bullfights in this entry. Bullfighting is a controversial subject all over the world. In the US as well as here in Spain. What I write about my experience is my opinion, but I respect that you may have another opinion, and I ask that you do the same. If you cannot respect my opinion, I ask you to please stop reading here.**

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Before I came to Spain I told myself that if the opportunity arose, I would attend a bullfight. I was not a fan of the idea, and as I said in my last entry, I didn't think I would enjoy it, but it is a part of the culture in Spain. It isn't even a part of everyone's culture in Spain, but there is tradition and ceremony that occur with the fight. This past weekend the opportunity arose, and as I promised myself, I bought a ticket, even though it was quite tempting not to.

My señora offered to make me a sandwich to bring to the fight as there is an intermission during which people eat food they've brought with them. I accepted the sandwich out of courtesy, figuring I wouldn't have much appetite for it when the time came. Truthfully, I wasn't even sure I would make it to the the intermission, which occurred after the third bull. Every fight has 6 bulls, 3 matadors and numerous helpers, who to me seemed like trainees. At the beginning of the fight there was procession in which all of the people involved in the fight walked out, kind of like in football how the players' names are called and they run out onto the field, minus the names being called.
The matadors are quite religious, there is a small sanctuary where they pray before the fight, and they are also seen crossing themselves throughout the fight. To my surprise there was a pep band present who played music at the appropriate moments, much like the pep band I play with back in Ithaca:

Pep!

I won't go into detail about the different parts of the fight, I feel that most people have an idea of what the fight entails, but if you want to know more I can tell you via e-mail. Something I realized while watching the fights is that Americans, or at least anyone I've talked to, get caught up on the ending of the fight. The fact that the bull dies at the end overshadows the possibility of even considering the point of the rest of the fight. I mean, if the only point was to kill the bull, I'm sure the matadors could save of money on those costumes. My friend, Ashley's señora told them before they went to the fight that you need to have the right perspective about the fight in order to understand it. If you go into the fight thinking about animal rights and cruelty, then you will miss the real point of the fight. As Ashley's señora said, the bullfight is a celebration of brain over brawn. The matador is the brain while the bull, full of muscle and animal instincts, is the brawn.

The matador also has to have the skill and brains of understanding the bull's instinct. Many times the matador would finish a... a set of movements (sometimes including kneeling as the bull charges past, or standing close to a wall so the matador has no escape if the bull goes somewhere unplanned) and he would turn his back completely to the bull, accept the crowd's reaction and amble back to the sidelines for water. I, in no circumstance, would ever turn my back on an angry bull, but I suppose the matadors are able to read their temper and know, or at least hopefully know, that the bull was done charging for the moment.

The one matador really enjoyed putting on a show. He wore a bright orange costume with sequins and was definitely the crowd favorite. We soon found out why. The matador in orange had the ability to make the fight seem like a dance. He had the right amount of confidence and the right amount of charisma to make his performance enjoyable. Enjoyable was never a word that I thought I would use in the context of a bullfight. At one point during his first bull the bull's horns caught the matador's leg. It didn't look good for him but he quickly got up and got back in the game, finishing the set before going to get a string to tie on his leg to limit the blood loss. His defiance of being hurt or taken out of the competition made him more determined to show his skill and ability, and to me really demonstrated the reality of the bullfight.

The crowd favorite

Many people claim that bullfights already have a chosen winner, but truthfully, every bull is different and one wrong move on the bullfighter's part can end his life. Nothing in life is predetermined.

Looking back at the bullfight, I definitely wouldn't want to go again. I can now respect the art and skill that many people who have not watched a bullfight overlook. I am glad that I went, that I experienced the legendary bullfight, and glad I didn't let any of my presumptions stop me from going. It was certainly an experience I will never forget.