Fiestas part 2

The thing about living in San Lorenzo for over a year now is that now I have seen everything that happens in a calendar year and know what is going to happen. For example, in July and August there is an extensive increase in drinking and partying because in July there are fiestas every week in Santiago (a small town near San Lorenzo) and in August the fiestas come to San Lorenzo. You know the fiestas are coming when they start building the plaza de toros (bull stadium) and the old ferris wheel, which is as bad as you might think it is. The bull stadium is built out of wood and holds about 150 people and is really the main attraction of the fiestas.
The toros are a staple to every campo community during their annual fiestas and it really is a family affair. In San Lorenzo, I got to go with the guys in a community up to the paramo, which is the land above about 13000 or 14000 feet and it is freezing cold. Anyways, a bunch of guys from the community and their relatives head up to the paramo where they round up the bulls that they are going to use for the fiestas like old western cowboys. It really made me feel like I am in a western movie…only if we´re speaking Spanish and freezing our asses off. Now I wasn´t on a horse doing the rounding up but I heard a lot of cussing a Spanish as people fall off their horses trying to round up these wild bulls. Once the bulls are rounded up…they are taken a nearby ranch and on the day of the bullfighting, the bulls are brought to the plaza in a large pick up drunk.
Having these bullfights is not like what you might of seen on TV or how they do it in Spain. It is truly community bullfighting, as in, anybody who wants to hop in the ring, takes off their jacket and can give it a go. Usually, those who know what they are doing spend the majority of time hanging around these pesky beasts. However, there is always a drunk who can barely stand up gets in there, nearly gets decapulated by a bull´s horn and gets dragged out of the ring by two of his buddies. Now obviously…if the local gringo decides to watch the events…you know, just to watch, you know his skinny butt is going to be dragged in there for a little bit. And I was…and I lived to write this blog entry so you know he didn´t die. I am not going to lie to the 10 people that read this…I was pretty scared about going in there after seeing other people get hurt. I am used to being around steers…but these are bulls (meaning they haven´t been castrated), they have large horns and let’s just say they haven’t been halter broken either. So when they get set loose in the ring, they can get pretty nasty. Luckily for me, I wasn´t drunk and had enough reflexes to not let the bull hit me and got a decent cheer from the crowd. In and out of there, 3 to 4 minutes tops I would say. But once you do something once (like I intended), they expect you to do it every time they have the bulls because…well, they love doing it and expect everyone else to love doing it as well. And maybe I will…but this time after a beer or two to calm the nerves a bit. ¡Que viva la fiesta!