BULL FIGHTING, NOW THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT (REPEAT OF OLDER POST)

One of my fondest memories of Peru was the sport of bullfighting Peruvian style. Somehow the subject came up that, there was to be a major “bull fighting” event on the coming weekend. “Would I like to go” I was asked. Would I? Try to keep me away! For the next two days I could hardly sleep. I had dreams of skinny little Peruvian guys in all their splendour, wearing tights and covered in bling; faced off against a raging bull, smoke coming from it’s nostrils and eyes blood red. Just the thought of one of these guys getting skewered on a horn, made me positively salivate.

I had previously only seen pictures and movies of this sport, but invariably, I had a deep and abiding hope that the bull would be successful in making a grease spot out of a matador. Come fight day, Deysi’s brothers take us to the match, and what we experienced was the thing of legends, and exposes your manhood for what it really is.

Finally, after days of waiting, we arrive at the place where the event is to be held. I’m bobbing around like a little kid, I haven’t slept for hours. I am ready to see something, that I have never seen before. Well the venue turned out to be a big open field, of flat bare dirt, and nothing else. Hold it, where are the beer vendors? Nary a one to be seen. Hot dogs and burgers? Nope. Nothing except a big field. There were lots and lots of people here, people of all of all ages, sizes, genders and descriptions.

The fun all started when, two big old Peruvian farmers each led a big old Peruvian bull, kicking and snorting onto the field. The crowd quickly closed around them and formed a ring of human bodies about 10 deep, and about 200 feet in diameter. Me being taller than a lot of Peruvians had a great view. I was situated about midway in the crowd. So we may not have seats, but I’m gonna have one ass kicking view. Now I’m thinking, bring on the Matador, he must be something, looks like he’s going to fight two bulls at once. This I gotta see!

So what do they do? The farmers stand across from each other and insult the other’s bull. Then insult each other, their families, ancestors and the very ground they are standing on. Then they turn these two bulls to face each other. Now comes the key ingredient; how to make the bulls fight? A third person now leads a sleek and sexy, dainty looking, small cow, with A PINK RIBBON on it’s ear, right between these two snorting and pawing bulls. This really gets the juices flowing! At the height of their frenzy, the owners let them go, straight at each other. Geezus!

The sound they made when they hit one another, reminded me of two 400 pound Sumo wrestlers crashing heads in the ring. It now dawned on me, that there were going to be no matadors in this fight. Only two bulls fighting each other! The bulls locked horns and with a great amount of grunting, bellowing, slobbering and snorting, they pushed each other looking for position; I guess. Anyway this goes on for a couple of minutes, with the two big ol Peruvian farmers yelling and cursing in the background. The crowd is also yelling themselves into a frenzy and shrieking for their favourite.

Suddenly one of the bulls seems to give up and tries to back away from the other one. Not so fast; like a good bull(y) the other now really digs in and starts to grind him. The fight is gone from the one bull. And the other is declared the winner. And then the fun really starts.The defeated bull still frothing and foaming at the mouth with red eyes blazing, turns and with a stare that went deep into my soul, starts a wild incoherent charge for freedom. Directly at me! We are staring each other right in the eyes, I am transfixed. He has a bead on me and is now bellowing with full rage and running toward me.

The people start running in panic. Here comes a 1500 pound bull trying to make a break for freedom, over me, through me, but not around me. The crowd is screaming, people are running, my legs are like jelly but finally I get them moving. I have lost all sense of sight, sound, taste or smell.

I start running, I catch up to a little kid, I grab her and throw her behind me, directly in the path of the bull. Furtively, I throw a look over my shoulder and all I can see are these two big round, red eyes blazing a hole in my forehead. I catch the mother, trip her and get her behind me. Then comes someones grandmother, the bull is catching us now. I can feel his heat on me, down she goes and into the path of the bull, wheelchair and all. It is now every man for himself, survival of the fittest, and last man standing, complete and utter chaos abounds. All of the sudden everything goes silent and people stop running. My heart stops, I am now certain I am dead and everyone is just stopping to see my finish.

Then I notice the bull running thru a large hole in the crowd, about 50 feet away from me. Everyone is breathing heavily, bent over and gasping for breath. Our group comes back together, and everyone is letting out nervous little giggles, and saying, “you weren’t scared were you”, “you didn’t run did you” and all sorts of brave type talk. Well they didn’t have to ask me, they could smell the answer! Now to end this story, in the ring the two owners are now into a major brawl, and are going MMA on each other, to the further delight of the crowd.

Everyone has moved back into position, and are eagerly waiting for fight number two. I swear each and every time throughout the afternoon, each and every bull who made their insane run for freedom, LOOKED ME DIRECTLY IN THE EYES AND CAME STRAIGHT FOR ME! Without shame, I also guarantee, that each and every time, that bull looked at me, I RAN FOR MY LIFE. I come to find out, that each and every person in the crowd, also thought the bull was charging directly at them! My self esteem took a violent bruising that day.