Monday, January 14, 2008
Last night I watched a bullfight. OK, it was on TV, but this is the twenty first century. There was a horseman who stuck spears into the back of the bull. The bull´s neck was covered in blood. The horse ride would taunt the bull by reading close and trying to stroke its head as it charged. I watched two fights one by a man and another by a woman. When they showed the audience it was clear that the bull ring was nearly empty, (much like an athletic event in the UK), but there were enough people to cheer and throw down leather gourds of wine. The woman bull fighter wasn´t very good at sticking the spear into the bulls neck. Either it would come out or it wouldn´t stick. AS more spears entered the bull, it got slower and slower. At some stage the bull collapsed and died. The matator circled the ring and proudly begged applause from the crowd. There was some other kind of attack on the bull. One person on foot would provoke the bull. It would charge him. He would than grab the horns of the bull and other people would pull the bull of them. I don´t think that this was an accident. (Although one time the bull shook the guy off and bashed him on the ground. I don´t think that was meant to happen.) There was some charging at capes, but that didn´t seem the main part of the show. Even though that little TV screen has shown me much blood letting, it still didn´t feel right to see the bull get slaughtered in the ring.