Monday, April 7, 2008

¡Ole!


Six. That’s how many bulls are killed during the course of one bullfight. In Spanish matar means to kill; in a bullfight, each matador kills two bulls. Every night, there are three matadores, the rest of the four toreros on each “team,” as well as the picadores, the horses . . . well, a lot of living things are involved in the grotesque/stunning show that is a bullfight.

Bullfighting season in Sevilla began on Easter. Yes, Easter Sunday. The biggest bullfights of the year happen during the April Feria – the fair that begins today and lasts through the weekend. During Feria, tickets to the fights are really expensive because the super famous matadors fight super strong bulls. The season continues through September; we actually saw a few televised bullfights when we first moved to Sevilla. Watching a bullfight on TV is impressive, but it’s nothing compared to being in the seats at the bullring.

Brad and I went to a bullfight Saturday night with a few friends. We were in the section called Sol, a.k.a. the cheap seats. Sol means “sun” – direct sun in your eyes for the entire fight. The pricier tickets are Sombra: “shade.” Luckily our tickets were so cheap that we were seated in the very last row, and the overhang of the stadium kept us in the shade. The ring was packed with men smoking cigars, women waving fans and a few people like us.

At the beginning of the bullfight, all the matadors and teams pay their respects to the president of the bullring (sitting in his box seat)

Each bull gets to experience three grueling phases during the fight that kills them. The first phase involves the whole team of toreros – typically 4 – using large pink and yellow capes to tire out the bull. During this phase, the bull is essentially mad as fire. He charges anything that moves, but the toreros can quickly jump behind the safety of the wooden fence if necessary. (As an aside, my brows were knitted together in horrified fascination throughout the entire process.)

The beading on the toreros’ outfits shows their skill level; black beads are novices, silver beads are next up, and gold beads are matadors – the highest level.

During this phase of the bullfight, a man called the picador, rides into the ring on a blindfolded and completely armored horse. The toreros direct the bull’s attention to the horse, which he inevitably charges angrily, and the picador stabs him in the back with a long spear. He always stabs him twice. The horse is blindfolded because no sane horse would walk towards an angry bull. He is covered in protective padding because the bull tries to gouge the horse’s underbelly with his horns. Bulls are also strong enough to tip over the horse and rider.

A picador next to a torero

The second phase is all about making the bull more exhausted, but undoubtedly angrier as well. Toreros, called banderilleros, take two short spears decorated with colored tissue, and stick them into the bull’s back. They do this by getting the bull’s attention then running at the bull as the bull is charging; they lift the spears over the bull’s horns and jab them into his back, then nimbly leap away before getting killed.

A banderillero trying to get the bull’s attention

Now the bull is tired, bloody and more confused than ever. Some bulls are obviously ready for this unpleasant game to be over and some are still fightin’ mad. (Each bull has its own personality of course.) At this point, the matador appears with his red cape. The matadors we saw on Saturday were highly skilled, so it was not that painful to watch . . . that is, until they gave the final blow.

The crowd tells you what they think of the matador and the bull by clapping (good) or whistling (bad). It’s considered good when the matador gets the bull’s head close to the ground as he charges the cape. It’s also good if the matador gets very close to the bull. Many other subtleties are cheered on by the crowd, but you would need many years of watching bullfights to know what is considered impressive. Oh – and the band plays when they like what the matador is doing.

The crowd is waving white handkerchiefs to show their admiration of the matador

[Warning: The content is about to get a little graphic.]

After a few minutes of this strange dance between a bull and a human, the matador pulls out a small sword. The sword is to be thrust between the bull’s shoulder blades. It doesn’t kill the bull instantly, and with some novice matadors, it takes forever for them to kill the bull (which is very gross.) Typically, within a few minutes, the bull sinks to the ground and then keels over on his side – dead.

Let’s take a moment to think about that.

The bull hardly has time to have one last muscle spasm before they cut off his ear. Yep, if the bull falls to the ground (the goal), and the president of the bullring deems the matador worthy, he gets the bull’s ear – as a prize. If the matador was especially good, the president may decide to give him two ears. And, in rare cases, the matador also gets the tail . . . what a trophy.

From beginning to end, the process lasts about 20 minutes for each bull. After the ear has been sawed off by one of the toreros, the (good) matadors take a turn around the ring, basking in the applause and their own manhood. Sometimes women throw panties into the ring when the matador passes by. I’m kidding; people don’t throw undergarments, but often shawls or flags or a box of wine or something. Meanwhile, the lifeless body of the bull is dragged out of the ring by three horses adorned in red and white tassels.

And before you can ask the Sevillana woman sitting next to you what the matador does with the bull’s ear, the next bull charges into the ring.

1 comment:

Natasha said...

I stumbled upon your blog several months ago and have enjoyed reading about Sevilla from a outsider´s perspective. I live in San Francisco but my parents live in Sevilla, en el centro, and I come here every year during this time. I am so glad you liked Semana Santa, and I hope you have a great time during Feria. I was also a grad student at UCLA many moons ago... I took one class in the history dep´t from an amazing prof who was a Jesuit priest, it was one of the best classes I took at UCLA. ¡Buena suerte!