Corrida de Toros. A ONCE in a lifetime experience.

So one of the last things to check of my Spain list, go to a bullfight.  Well I did it.  I've heard stories, seen cartoons (and yes they actually do drag their front hoof in the ground and practically shoot steam out of their noses (well snot)), heard good opinions, bad opinions, rumors of banishment, but all in all, I just had to see for myself before forming at kind of opinion.  

Entrada

Las Ventas

Didn't know what we were getting ourselves into

And when I decided to see for myself, I didn't realize that I would be about 7 rows back, right in front of all the action.  Our seats were literally right up there and on the side where everything happened.  

Still smiling...

Thats how close we were...

It wasn't a pleasant experience.  Thats for sure.  I just got back so I am still trying to digest the experience, the crowd, watching SIX animals die nonchalantly before my eyes, the tummy ache that still lingers (well that could be from the really good chummus I made today or the candy that we had to buy after the 'show' (if you could call it that) to cheer ourselves up.  

Candy stand

There are definitely a lot more logistics that go into the bull fight than I had originally thought: the entrance procession, the headmasters of the show, the Picadores, who make the first stab into the bull from horseback, the Banderilleros, or mini matadors as I like to call them, who taunt the bull originally and stab them with little baras before the matador comes out, with the whole get up, sword and red blanket to do the whole song and dance (literally) and eventually kill the bull, the guys on the side who hand over the baras, swords, towels when it gets bloody, etc... the man who's sole job is to open the gate and let the bull out, but gets to sit on the side with a fancy outfit on anyway, then the guys who come with the horses to drag the dead bull away, the rackers, who clean up the sand after each bull, and finally, the line maker man, who redoes the lines halfway through the show.  

Mahou advertisement in the middle of the arena.  After all, it is a sporting event

Head master man

Ready for action

Picadores

Banderillos

Right, I forgot to mention the bull, the 1000 pound beast with the sad look in its eyes, the snot dripping from its nose, sweating, panting, getting stabbed and never getting a break until finally at the end he is killed by maybe having one, two, or three swords stabbed into his neck. They even have names.  Today I saw Sevillanito, Madroñito, Milillero, Medroso, Aviador, and Sombrerillo.

Sevillanito (literally, little Sevillian)

And thats just in the arena.  In the audience, you have the band, playing a little tune when the bull dies (and we all stand, what out of respect? which makes no sense to me...)  Also you have the tourists, and among them, the disgusted american girls (us), the crazy American lady who "lived with a matador for 3 years" and completely loves it that we met on the metro, the group of asians who sat next to me, oohing and ahhing and taking millions of photos, the Spaniards who get really into it, yelling at the matador and the bull, cheering, chanting, and of course, complaining.  

Innocent spectator

But the relationship between the three is the most interesting.  According to crazy metro lady, the bulls are starved, deprived of water, and left in a dark room days before entering the ring so they are already tired.  The mini matadors also tire out the bull before the main matador gets his turn.  The crowd must also be pleased, meaning the matador has to work the bull just right, do his dance long enough, do enough twirls, get close to the bull, do some more fancy tricks, but not too long that we get bored and restless and start yelling.  Big job worrying about the crowd.  But what about his own safety? At what point does he decide to forgo the trick, piss off the crowd, and hopefully not get gorged by this angry, tired, snotting animal?  Not to mention he is wearing a very flamboyant, sparkly, tight suit, giving him both a camel toe and what I'm sure is a very large and uncomfortable wedgie.  


The bulls also differ in tiredness, rambunctiousity, size, and the matadors vary in skill, and tonight, we saw a whole combination of matadors and bulls, switching between better matadors, meaning they  perfectly taunted the bull, even dropping his hat in the center of the arena as a presentation to the bull, doing the right amount of turns, getting close to the bull, killing him with one sword, wiggling his taught little tush in the right way...  Then we saw worse matadors, who dropped their blanket, missed a jab (or two, three, or four),  got blood on their clothes, didn't stab the bull deep enough, etc...

Matadero

The first bull/matador combo we saw, according to the really nice and really enthusiastic Spanish woman, wasn't so good.  She had a great time explaining to us the beauty in the show, the rules, etc...and even gave us some hats to wear.  

Jillian, Murphy and Me, in our new hats!

In the end, it is a show of entertainment.  The ushers take our tickets and lead us to our seats.  People are munching on popcorn, sunflower seeds, and drinking beer that vendors sell up and down the stands.  Fans complain, yell at the arena, throw their cushions into the arena afterwards since they aren't pleased (true story).

cushions in the arena post show

Did I mention that I saw six bulls die today?! Lets see if I remember all their deaths; there was the first one, that left the biggest impression, and was probably one of the worse deaths since the matador wasn't too skilled.  Then one dies with blood bubbling from his mouth, another wavered like a drunk person before going down, one twitched as the mini matador jabbed the knife into him a few times more just to make sure he was dead, another that fell immediately after the first sword was thrown. Have I given enough details here?  After about bull number 3, I was kind of immune to the whole killing part.  It was still sad to see the bull suffer, and looking into their eyes every time they were stabbed wasn't too heartening, but at one point I even lost count on what number we were on and surprised myself when I casually asked, "What number is this again? Four? Five?" in a an almost bored and different tone.   

Picadero making the first stab

The final stab

Dragging away bull #1.  Don't worry, there were 5 more!

This was not a pleasant experience.  I still don't know quite how I feel.  Should it be outlawed? I don't know.  Will it ever? Doubtful.  Will I go again? No.  Am I glad I went? Yes.  

**Broke my camera after Bull #1. Tried not to let this take all my attention away from the bullfight but it did make me sad.  However, since I wasn't worried about taking pictures, I was focusing more on the bullfight in front of me.  The theme of this post was also "Corrida de Toros" not "boohoo, Lily broke her camera" so I refrained from mentioning it, but I am very sad. I would have taken a picture of my broken camera to add to the blog but for obvious reasons I couldn't do that... At least its the end of my trip and I think I can get it fixed for free when I return to the states. In 5 days! But thats a whole other topic.