Chris's Diary from Mexico - updated April 24

Whistle
1

(sorry about the formatting in this message… I copied and pasted it and it came out wierd)
Hey there friendly whistle folks.
As many of you know, I am now living down in Mexico and will be here for at least the next six months studying Spanish and doing anthropological work in San Cristobal de las Casas.
Anyways, I thought some of you might be interested, so, if there are no objections, I thought I might post tales from my journey in this thread from time to time. If you do object, just keep it to yourself and read another thread (unless you are Dale or Rich, and then you can BAN!!! me).
Anyways, I’ve been e-mailing my parents and my girlfriend over the last
week and thought you might enjoy some excerpts from those letters.
So… here are my
e-mails over the last week. I hope you enjoy them and I
hope to hear from you soon.
Best,
Chris


Feb 3rd
Well, I made it to Mexico City safe and sound and I´m having a good time
already. I met a guy, also named Chris, who was on my flight from Boston
and is doing an SIT program in Oaxaca. He and I are going to hang out in
Mexico City for a couple of days before going down to Oaxaca where we´ll
meet up with his SIT program. I´ll probably spend a couple of days in
Oaxaca and then go down to San Cristobal. It should be fun!
The flight was long, but eneventful. On my flight from Texas to Mexico I
sat next to a young Japanese woman who was with her husband. They both
slept through the entire flight, including take off and landing, and the
woman fell asleep on my shoulder. It was kind of cute.
Getting from the airport to the Hostel was no problem, though the taxi
ride was a little crazy. Mexico City is amazing… it´s a manic mix of
old word Europe, ancient America and a crazy, impoverished present. I´m
staying in a place called Hostel Cathedral, which is great. It´s right
behind the central cathedral, which is amazingly grand and beautiful, and
right near the central square, which reminds me of a crazy Mexican
version of the center near the Duomo in Florence. It´s all lit up at
night and quite a scene. There are thousands of people on the street
selling all manner of things, playing music, performing, etc. Amazingly,
though I´m sure I am great risk of being robbed, nobody has harrassed me
at all. Nobody has even hardly looked at me.
The computer I´m using right now is up above a crowded bar in which
people are chatting in all sorts of languages over good beer. In the
background is blasting some excellent Mexican dance music, which I think
I could get used to (I´ll probably be sick of it in ten minutes!)
In addition to my friend Chris, I am sharing my room with an Irish guy
from Dublin (damn Dubs!)… pretty cool. So… Mexico city is pretty
wild, but not as wild in a scary way as I was expecting. It’s pretty
difficult not being able to speak much Spanish. People speak English, but
I already feel at a huge disadvantage without the language. Well, I´ll
get it soon.
One of the amazing things here is all the different kinds of faces…
many different Mayan and Aztec faces, faces with black skin, their
ancestors brought over as slaves from Africa, European faces, Asians and
blends of everything in between. Very cool indeed.
Tomorrow morning I will go to the anthropologie museum and maybe to some
of the ruins.

Feb 4th
Hey there folks,
So I wandered around the city today by myself and had quite an adventure.
I took the train to the anthropology museum, which was quite an
experience. It took me longer than it should have taken. Still, it was
somewhat succesful. The anthropology museum was amazing. The way back,
however, was a different story altogehter.Good old me decided I´d try to
walk the distance. It took 4 hours and I was sureI was going the wrong
way. Fortunately, I made it safe and sound. Too bad the damn space bar on
this computer isn´t working right.
The air in Mexico City is pretty nasty, my eyes and throat are definately
burning from it a bit. It’ll be nice to get out into the countryside
after this.
Tomorrow I am going to try to get to Oaxaca, where I hope to stay for a
couple of nights. I didn´t really realize how far it is to San Cristobal!
It’s 12 hour bus from Oaxaca, and 19 from here… doh! I should have
flown. Well, that’s okay.
It takes a while to fully realize that time has now completely changed. I
am, authorities permitting, in Mexico, for six months. That´s a long
time!!!
So, yeah, I did have a bit of trouble with my visa. I wanted one for 180
days but they only gave me 90. I´ve been assured that I’ll have no
problem going to the immigration office, giving them some money and
getting the additional 90 days, but it’s still something I didn´t want to
worry about. Oh well… it’ll work out. Afterall, it’s only my first full
day here.
I had lunch by myself today at a restaurant and it was funny because the
waitress didn’t speak English (almost nobody does, or at least not unless
you ask them to) and we were having some trouble understanding eachother.
She taught me some new words though… refresca means soda-pop, sopa is
soup (duh!).

Feb 7th
So, I’ve been in Oaxaca for a couple days, and it’s great. I took a 7
hour bus ride down here on a crummy old bus with a bunch of SIT kids and
a guy from Dublin, Ireland who has been to 29 countries already. The ride
was really wild. We drove past snowcapped volvanoes, forests of cacti,
fertile farmland, shanty-towns… it was pretty wild.
Tonight will be my second night in the Magic Hostel in Oaxaca. The Magic
Hostel is a really cool, layed back place with an exceptionally cool
atitude and awesome hostelers from all over the world. Yesterday there
were a bunch of Scandinavians, and today it seems that the majority are
Quebecois. Gary, the Dubliner, and I have been hanging out quite a bit
and he has some great, great stories to tell. One of the things he wants
to do next time he goes back to India is to buy an elephant, spend a
couple months training it and learning to care for it, buy a couple
camels and then ride his elephant across India over the course of a year,
with his camels carrying his gear! I just love that there is actually
someone in this world who not only had that idea but is very likely going
to do it.
Seriously, talking to all the hostelers here, I feel so unworldly and
feel as if I’ve done almost no travel at all. Gary has been to 29
countries, many for extended periods. This morning we had breakfast with
a Swedish guy who has also been all over the world, most recently working
as a volunteer teacher to the kids who grow up in the garbage dumps in
Guatamala city. Today I also met two girls from Quebec who are traveling
around Mexico and Guatamala researching coffee growing so that they can
start a fair-trade coffee business in Canada. Wild, wild stuff!
Anyhow, the weather here is about 80F during the day and in the 50s at
night. Last night a bunch of us went out to the bars and then went
clubbing, which was pretty cool. Also, our last night in Mexico City we
went and ate tacos while being seranaded by Mariachi bands and then went
Salsa dancing, which was great, especially since we (a group of 5 SIT
students, a local guy who works for Amnesty International, the Irish dude
and myself) were the only gringos in the place and everyone was really
nice to us.
Today, after sleeping in, taking a half-hour shower, talking to the
hostelers for a while and having a two hour brunch, Gary and I went to
Monte Alban, which is an amazing ruin on the top of a mountain. You can
look it up on the internet for pictures. I got a wicked sunburn today…
but I think I’ll be okay. It feels good to get some sun! This evening
Gary, the Swedish dude, and I went out and met one of the Swedish dude’s
Turkish friends and we drank beer, looked at the stars and ate popcorn.
Tomorrow I think we’re going to try the fried grasshoppers. The Turkish
dude says they’re great.
Tomorrow night I will take the overnight bus to San Cristobal, since it’s
a 12 hour trip. It’ll be very strange to get there as the sun comes up. I
hear it’s going to be sort of cold there, but that’s okay. It’ll warm up
in a couple of weeks. I’ve gotten all sorts of good recommendations for
places to go when Rebecca visits, including a couple places with
beaches, snorkeling, crocodiles, etc. :slight_smile:
Well, they’re kicking me off the computer.
Adios!


[ This Message was edited by: ChrisLaughlin on 2003-02-07 19:34 ]

[ This Message was edited by: ChrisLaughlin on 2003-02-07 19:35 ]

[ This Message was edited by: ChrisLaughlin on 2003-02-08 15:12 ]

[ This Message was edited by: ChrisLaughlin on 2003-02-10 20:00 ]

2

Very cool! Chris, thanks for sharing. Makes me mucho jealous.

3

Great stuff Chris!!! Sounds like much fun. Please keep posting when you get the chance.


-Brett

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hi chris -

i’m also looking forward to hearing of your adventures.

any whistles or flutes down there?

  • tom
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Thanks so much for checking in, Chris! Part of the reason I enjoy this board is the chance to live vicariously through the board’s hardy adventurers. Don’t worry, there are people who’ve traveled a LOT less than you!

Cara “I went to New Orleans once!” Lieurance

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Leviticus 11:22

of these you may eat the following: locusts of every variety; all varieties of bald locust; crickets of every variety; and all varieties of grasshopper.


... just in case you were worried about keeping kosher while you're down there.

Best wishes,
Jerry

P.S. I would highly recommend that you try the grasshoppers. Europeans and North Americans are the only groups that don't eat insects. There are certain polysaccharides in insects (other cultures eat bees, termites, ants, etc.) that may be important for many functions in the body, that are almost completely missing from the Standard American Diet (SAD).
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Chris that was great. I appreciate you sharing your exploits and enjoyed reading it.

Thanks.

Philo

PS - What is it in Mexico City that makes the air so bad? Usual city pollution?

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Thanks for all the kind words, advice and encouragement folks! Keep it coming :slight_smile:


Anyhow, I’m in San Cristobal now, and it’s beautiful. The bus ride last night was 13 hours, but it was comfortable and I had two seats to myself. I didn’t sleep very well on the bus, so I’m pretty tired today. I woke up around 7:30 AM and looked out the window the rest of the day, while listening to Paul McGratten and his flute on my minidisc player. It was an incredible ride… we started low and started to climb up into the mountains and the jungle. Everything here is greener than in Oaxaca or Mexico DF, since it’s a little cooler and there is usually rain in the afternoon. The bus climbed higher and higher into the mountains, around winding turns and besides steep cliffs. The hills were covered with thick growth of coniferous trees, tropical looking plants and flowers and some cacti. Ocasionally we’d pass a small village full of people working on the fields. We also passed many men and women (women mostly) dressed in traditional clothing, carrying bags full of goods up the mountain to trade and sell in San Cristobal. Every time we reached a village I though it might be San Cristobal, but we went higher and higher, above the clouds and above the other mountains.
Finally, we came over the top of a mountain and before us was a valley, in which was San Cristobal, a beautiful small city surrounded by mountains. It looked magical.
When we arrived I got out of the bus and took a deep breath of the cool, clean air here. The air in San Cristobal is much cleaner than in Oaxaca, and certainly infinately cleaner than the poison air in Mexico City.
It’s at least ten degrees cooler here and there’s a bit more moisture in the air. I like it… it suits me well.
Before heading into town I put my bags down and was approached by a “super-hippy” advertising a hostel called Hostel Babylon. He was really nice and seemed cool enough - the hostel pamphlet he gave me looked great too, so I picked up my backs and went to Hostel Babylon. When I got there I rang the doorbell and was greeted by a long-haired, dreadlocked Mexican hippy, who greeted my kindly. Then I was approached by a beautiful Mexican girl who showed my around. One of the first questions she asked was whether I smoked pot! I told her, no, not really. She said that was okay, but should I change my mind they had plenty and just asked that it be smoked on the roof! Pretty darn funny, eh? So, I’m staying in the Hostel Babylon, the ultimate hippy hangout, with hammock beds, reggae, super laid back folks, rooms named after the seven deadly sins and a nice big painting of sub-commandante Marcos on the wall - and all for $3.50 a night. Not bad!
I’ll hang out there until Monday, at which point my language classes will begin and I’ll move in with a family for the month. I can hardly wait.
San Cristobal is beautiful… I walked all around the market today, which was the best I’ve seen so far. There are stalls and stalls full of mangos, papaya, pineapple, oranges, apples, grapes, guava, prickly pear, watermelon and all sorts of other fruits I couldn’t identify. There are also stalls full of meats, fish, shrimp… there were even a bunch of old ladies sitting on the curb with little potbellied pigs which I can only presume were for sale. I could go on, but it would take too long… there are lots of amazing things to buy. One of the things I live in San Cristobal is that many people still wear traditional clothes, with beautiful bright pinks, blues, greens and yellows. Also, I am one of the tallest people here! The women average under 5 feet, some probably 4 foot 5 inches, and many of the men are quite short as well. Everyone seems quite friendly, though they don’t seem to understand my Spanish as well as people did in Oaxaca and Mexico City, nor do I understand their Spanish as well. I don’t think many people here speak English either. That’s good, I guess.
For lunch I had the usual, tortillas with chicken, chillis and cheese, with a nice tall glass of fresh squeezed orange juice to wash it down (I had papaya yesterday). So, today I think I’ll just wander around for a while and get the lay of the land.
All the best,
Chris

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Chris,

San Cristobal sounds wonderful. Thanks for letting us in on your adventures: the details are gifts.

Carol

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Chris, I have been enjoying reading about your Mexico adventure. Thanks for posting it.
:slight_smile:

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Chris,
Keep them coming. I’ve enjoyed reading about your trip so much, it’s making me want to take another trip down there. And nope you’ll never get used to the music, at least I never did :slight_smile: It’s amazing how open and friendly the people down there are, it’s a totally different world in comparison to the US. During my month, the only trouble we got into was when one of my teamates started hitting on another man’s girlfriend. And LOL about the pot!!! I guess that is just assumed about a trustifairy such as yourself. Que tu gusta beber? Sol, tecate, corona y dos equis? I never made it that south cause I turned around in Acapulco, but what is the choice of beer in the area? I was doing a survey and I found that most people in the north drink tecate. And hardly anybody drinks Coronas, which I found to be odd. Ah the soccer, the snorkling, and the womanizing. Vive la Mexico!!! I hope you enjoy yourself Chris, and be careful, especially around the men in dark blue, y te acordas, “No tengo Armes.” :slight_smile:

Quien te dio vela en este entierro,
Jack Murphy

P.S. get ahold of some instant mash potatoes if you can. Trust me!

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Oh, to be young again and in Mexico. Oh well, I ain’t that old- I just wish I was in your shoes. I was in San Cristóbal two years ago and I loved it. It’s really unlike the rest of Mexico, almost like being in another country. I think your biggest problem will be leaving the place. Échate una cerveza por nosotros y sigue escribiéndonos..

[ This Message was edited by: Bartleby on 2003-02-08 18:54 ]

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Here’s the latest!
Yesterday I was thrown a bit of a curveball. I don’t know what to think
of it yet. I met a guy in town who is starting a new hostel. We got to
chatting and offered to show me the space for the new hostel. I agreed
and we went to the place, which he had bought yesterday. It is an
enourmous and quite beautiful building in the center of town. He
explained all his plans for the hostel and asked me all sorts of
questions about what I think he needs to do to make it succesful. I told
him what I thought and in the end he offered me a job working at the
hostel. The deal, as he presented it, would be that I would go to the bus
station in the morning and hand out fliers, talk to backpackers, etc and
try to get them to go to the hostel. I would get 10 pesos ($1) for each
person that went. The hostel has 40 beds, so if I were able to get that
many people (which I know would be difficult) I’d be making a killing by
Mexican standards. He also promised me an additional $20 every time the
hostel was full. On top of that he said he’d let me stay there for free,
getting me working papers and have my visa extended for as long as I
wanted, a year minimum. He’s worked in immigration for years (I saw his
license) and his brother is the head of immigration for Mexico, so he has
the right connections. So… I have no clue whether to take him up on the
offer or not. I need to think about it pretty seriously. One of the big
factors I need to determine is what the minimum period of time he’d want
me to work for him is. Anyways, a curveball indeed!
I began my language classes this morning and they were great, though
quite difficult. I guess I’m just happy to understand as much Spanish as
I do. I also began my homestay today, which is going to be fantastic. I
am staying with a wonderful woman, Doña Guadalupe Madrigal, her son and
daughter, whom are both a bit older than me, her son’s wife and their two
children, one of them 8 months old and the other 4 years. Nobody in the
family speaks practically any English at all, and Doña Madrigal speaks
none. The daughter, Susy, works at my language school and is also a
singer. The son, whos name I forget at the moment, is a teacher, and his
wife is also a singer. All of them were interested in my music and Doña
Madrigal told me she loves the flute and I am welcome to play whenever I
want. Sweet!
I have my own beautiful room, on the top of the house, with a door
opening up to a balcony overlooking the street and another door opening
up onto the sunny rooftop. I’ve got a really nice, big bed, a huge
mirror, a table and a couple of chairs, a radio… it’s great! We all
shared a big lunch today (at 2:30), which was really, really nice. For
desert I had two giant, succulant mangos! The entire family laughed at my
attempts to eat both the tortillas and the mangos… but soon I will
learn, I’m sure. Dinner is at 8:30 at night and breakfast at 8:30 in the
morning. I don’t have my own bathroom, but the main bathroom is quite
nice and has good, hot water. All in all, I think it’s going to be a
superb time. The family is so nice, the house is great and my language
classes are superb (they don’t speak any English with me!). Now I just
have to learn Spanish in a hurry! One of the things I really love is that
every morning I will be walking through the central market to classes..
supposedly it’s the biggest indigenous market in Mexico. One of the
really funny things about the market is that there are ropes stretching
across the walkway, holding all the canopies up, and they are all lower
than I am so I have to duck the entire way!! People here are really,
really short, especially the indigenous people.
Well, that’s about all for now.

14

Great to hear from you Chris!

15

What a dilemma! It would suck if your whole stay took place at the train station, trying to convince people to come to your hostel. But if you need the money…

It sounds like having an ability to laugh at yourself is a must for foreign language/culture immersion!

Hey, when you learn an interesting new Spanish word, pass it on, would you? That would be fun. I’d be interested, for one.

Looking forward to your next update,

Cara

16

Thanks for the news, Chris.

Mmmmm, mangos! :slight_smile:


Carol

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bump

18

Love it! Thanks for sharing it here! More!

19

Hey there friends -
It’s been a long time since I’ve updated you about my life in Mexico, so
here goes, a report about Holy Week in San Cristobal de Las Casas.
There’s no way I can tell you about all of it, so a little will have to
suffice. All Easter Week was wild. The city was packed with people, the
churches were open all the time, singing and praying could be heard on
the street, fireworks went off all night long every night…
On Friday, in San Cristobal, the Romans crucified Jesus. At 11 in the
morning half the city met in a plaza in front of a church to see Jesus
condemned to death. There were men dressed as Romans; men, women and
children dressed as Jews; two other condemned men in cages. Jesus was the
spitting image. The entire affair was expertly orchestrated with fine
actors, music, brilliant costumes, a narrator… amazing.
After receiving his sentence, Jesus was given his crown of thorns and an
enormous wooden cross that must have weighed at least 200 lbs. Then,
marched through the street by Romans on horseback and on foot, two
jailers, who whipped him as he went, and thousands of people, dressed as
Romans, Jews, Mexicans and tourists, Jesus carried his cross through the
town. For four hours, in blazing sun and humidity, Jesus dragged his
cross through the streets, perspiration running from his face down his
entire body. Many times he almost fainted and the Red Cross, whom were
fortunately on the scene to help him out (had only they been there when
he was really killed), ran to give him water and wipe the sweat from his
brow. This was the first year in town memory that Jesus didn’t faint and
collapse while dragging his cross.
At three a clock in the afternoon, having dragged his cross in a huge
circle through the city, Jesus arrived at the site where he would be
crucified. Accompanied by guards and surrounded by a loud, eager and
impatient throng of spectators - Romans, Jews, Mexicans and tourists
alike… Jesus and the two criminals were tied to crosses and crucified.
No, there were no nails. Yes, there was a little blood. It was intense.
It was loud. It was hot. It was emotional. Never have I seen someone go
through something so close to an actual crucifiction. Seeing it drove the
point home, so to the speak… Jesus was tortured over the course of an
entire day, had enormous nails driven through his limbs, hung up on a
cross to bleed to death, speared though he couldn’t defend himself,
mocked and spat at. He died a slow, horrible, torturous death. We still
haven’t learned much.

That evening we went to the Zocalo, the Spanish name for the main city
square. Their, as every year, were hanging 15 effigies, representative of
Judas, that were to be burned amongst much fanfare. Out of 15, 9 had the
face of Bush. Here, in Mexico and in San Cristobal, Bush has fated
himself to be the most hated man in the world - more than Saddam, more
than Osama bin Laden, more than Judas. Bush’s face became the focus of
everything wrong in the world. One giant paper mache effige depicted Bush
as a giant, baby-eating spider, with glowing red eyes and fangs, the body
of a spider, but Bush’s face. In his mouth and claws were dismembered and
bleeding babies. Hands and faces of those trying to escape slow and
torturous digestion pushed their way out of his belly, grasping for
freedom and screaming in pain and suffering. This is, without question, a
very, very real image of how the people I’ve met here think of him and
his actions.
When the sun went down and thousands upon thousands of people thronged
around the effigies, hanging in a long line in the center of the crowd,
cheering, jeering and booing, calling for their destruction, a fireman
came out and the first, a devil holding a bottle of oil and a decapitated
baby, was lit on fire. The crowd went wild. Sparks, fire and ash flew
everywhere, landing in the crowd, blowing onto buildings, as the devil
himself was consumed by his own fire. After a moment or so of raging
fire, the devil began to explode from the inside, stuffed with fireworks,
which shot every which way, narrowly missing those in the crowd, who were
only fifteen feet away at the closest point. The fire, nearly out of
control, blew to the next effigy, and like that, one by one, they burst
into roaring flame, consumed in heat and the anger of the fire. With each
one the crowd went wild once again, but the greatest cheers, the greatest
boos, the greatest excitement was saved for Bush, the child eating
spider. When the giant spider went up in flames and subsequently blew
into a million flaming pieces, the crowd could hardly contain it’s own
energy. We’d all been waiting to see that moment for years! That night
was, without question, one of the wildest, most instense things I’ve seen
in my entire life. I know I will never forget it.

Sunday, Easter, we went to the bullfight. I went with my host-family, and
three American friends, one a vegitarian. We didn’t know what to expect.
We were almost sure we’d be disgusted, but we knew it was our one chance
and that we should see it. So we went.
We got there at 3 and found seats in the crowded stands. In the blazing
sun we sat for two hours, waiting for the fight, while a mariachi band
blared Mexican music, vendors hawked tortas, beer, popcorn and potato
chips (the chips were being sold at 15 time their street price), and the
excitement grew and grew. At five o’clock sharp a bugle blew and the
matadors took to the ring. Dressed in tight, gaudy clothes, with black
hats and gaudy pink capes, the matadors strutted around the ring waving
and preening themselves to the cheers of the crowd. After a minute or
two, all but four left the field, the bugle was blown again and the bull
caming roaring in.

A bullfight is difficult to describe. First, you must know that the crowd
does not want to see blood… the less the better. They want to see a
dance, an act, a graceful, if devestating, battle of wills. They want the
bull to win. If a lot of blood is spilled unnecessarily, or even
necessarily, the crowd will boo, throw trash and make fun of whoever is
responsible. So, when the bull is let onto the field, maddened by a hard
poke to his rear as he’s let out of his pen, he charges after the first
pink cape he sees. The matadors take turns taunting him, getting him to
charge around the field in a counterclockwise circle until he is angry as
can be and frothing at the mouth. After maybe five minutes of this two
men ride in on horses. Their job is the worst, and I’m not quite sure why
anyone would do it, since they are almost always booed off the field. The
men carry long spears and their horses are blindfolded (so they won’t
bolt when they see the bull) and protected with an enormous suit of
padding/armor. One of them, I don’t know how they choose whom, attracts
the bull, who charges at him. The man with the spear lowers his spear and
plunges it into the bull, right inbetween his shoulder-blades. The crowd
wants to see a clean strike and withdrawal of the spear, but it rarely
works that way because the bull usually continues to try to gore the
horse and the man with the spear is forced to spear the bull several
times, until the bull turns away and the man is able to exit the ring
with his horse. It is at this point that the most blood spills. Blood
gurgles up and gushes out of the bull’s wound, sometimes flowing in
spouts. Again, the less blood the better, and if the bull bleeds a lot
the crowd gets angry. Four out of the five fights the spearman was booed
off the field and had trash thrown at him.

Let me explain why the bull is speared between the shoulder blades. There
are two important reasons. First, the bull is stronger, faster and
fiercer than anyone in the ring, man or animal, and without weakening the
bull, the matadors would end up dead. Second, the fight is meant to be
humane, at least somewhat. The point of spearing between the shoulder
blades is to gradually weaken the front legs, so that instead of having
to slowly bleed to death, the bull’s front legs will eventually collapse,
at which point he will be killed quickly and mercifully, with a minimum
of suffering. So, back to the fight.

After the bull has been speared, a matador comes into the ring carrying
two spikes, probably as long as an arm, decorated in ribbons. The
matador, after dancing (it really does look like dancing) with the bull
for a time, approaches the bull face to face and, in a split second,
jumps up, forwards and backwards in one graceful move, stabbing the two
stakes into the same spot, just between the shoulder-blades, where the
bull was speared. I can’t emphasize enough what an act of grace and
courage this is. It would be so easy for the bull to charge and gore the
matador, and in fact, in one case he did. The matador was an older
matador, a former champion and a crowd favorite. He moved slowly and with
a little limp, but it was clear he knew what he was doing and had seen
many years of glory as a matador. Just as he lept to drive the spikes
into the bull’s spine the bull charged, catching him in the air with his
forehead, tossing him in the air and hitting him once more before
throwing him to the ground and charging forwards to trample him. Thanks
to the quick work of the other matadors, the bull’s attention was
diverted and the matador narrowly avoided near certain death. He lay
there on the ground, on his back, not moving. Nobody knew whether he was
alive or not, seriously injured or allright. Slowly, after what seemed
like an eternity of silence, he lifted himself off the ground and rose to
his feet. The crowd went wild, cheering, whistling, throwing flowers and
hats. The band played a triumphant tune. The matadors ran to support the
matador. Smiling, waving, limping and clutching at what were almost
certainly broken ribs, he walked around the ring to the adoration of the
crowd. He, and that bull, were the heroes of that day. When the bull was
finally killed, he was given it’s tail and both ears as a reminder of
that fight.

So, back to the course of a fight. After the four spikes are driven into
the bull’s back, the main matador of that fight comes out with his sword
and cape, strutting and smiling, to the great enjoyment of the crowd. For
the next ten or so minutes he proceeds to, quite literally, dance with
the bull. The stand face to face, challenging eachother. The matador
waves his flag to anger the bull, he turns his back to the bull, walk on
his knees, stares it down, until eventually, enraged, the bull charges
and the matador, gracefully, much like a ballet dancer or a football
player, steps aside with a swish of his cape, to the applause of the
crowd.

Finally, after putting on a show, the time comes to kill the bull. The
matador draws his sword and approaches the bull, staring him in the eye,
pointing his sword at his target, and with a daring and graceful leap, he
plunges the blade to it’s hilt inbetween the bull’s shoulders. If the
blade goes all the way in and stays the crowd applauds. If the blade goes
only part way in, or falls out, the crowd boos. Within moments the bull’s
front legs fail and he falls down, at which point another man comes up
behind the bulls with a dagger and stabs it into the back of the bull’s
brain, killing him instantly. But sometimes it doesn’t work as planned.
The final battle was between the best bullfighter - a graceful, cocky,
preening and absolutely wonderful fighter - a brilliant performer - and
the best bull - huge, angry, loud, tough and energetic. The matador,
gracefully, drove his sword to the hilt in the bull’s back, but the bull
wouldn’t die. He stood, staring down the matador. He wouldn’t die, but he
wouldn’t fight either. Nobody knew what to do. The matadors didn’t know
what to do. The crowd didn’t know. The band didn’t know. The bull didn’t
know. Finally, after probably five minutes, the bull lay down, presumably
to die. But it didn’t die. It just layed there, staring at the matador.
Now what? The matador couldn’t drive another sword into him while he lay
there. There was no courage in that. All they could do was wait. Two of
the matadors decided to try to get the bull to get up and continue
fighting, so they waved their capes at him for several minutes, until he
got up. But still he wouldn’t fight. How was it that this bull wasn’t
dead? Eventually, the bull decided to fight once more. He faced the
matador, loud out a mighty bellow and charged. The matador leapt and
drove his other sword clean into the bull. The bull fell dead on the spot
and the crowd went wild.

What a crazy, crazy day. After six bulls in 2 hours we left, blood
pumping, excited, elated, confused, angry, happy… we didn’t really
know how we felt, but we knew we felt, intensely, the adrenaline pumping
through our bodies and the blood pumping through our veins. We left not
knowing what we thought of the whole spectacle, but all of us, even the
vegetarian, were happy we went. I’m going again this weekend, with my guy
friends, to see one of Spain’s best bullfighters and the best fighter in
all of Mexico go up against the best bulls Mexico has to offer. It will
be intense.

Your pal,
Chris

20

This is Great stuff Chris, thanks. Your style of writing makes me feel like Iam there with you. Hope you continue having a good time out there, and sharing your tales with us.

cheers Mate

Dale