¡Olé, Olé, Oh No!

*The following images are graphic and may not be intended for all viewers.*

In addition to a few rigid excerpts from The Sun Also Rises , I may have only given three minutes of thought to bullfighting in my life. “Save it for Spain” was kind of the idea I held until the discussion of an afternoon fight floated past my breakfast table in Lima, Peru. It was cold, we were new to town and I had nothing planned for the day so, unreluctantly I jumped on the bandwagon and headed to the ring.

Spontaneity did not suit me well for this activity.

I assumed I would see more of this… …and less of this.

Maybe I only remember Hemmingway’s allusions to love and the lost generation.

Jay and I were rather unamused by the slight 5-1 disadvantage the bulls were up against and I really struggled to watch the torture of these helpless animals. My ignorance of this Spanish tradition led me to believe I would be pitying matadors as they rolled out of the ring on stretchers nursing their wounds. Not the case. The life threatening moments of these audacious fighters were few and far between.

So I distracted myself by the copious amounts of men in sequins and tight pants.

I learned, however, that while bloody and cruel, the sport of bullfighting is essentially centered around theatrics and drama. More significant than defeating their opponent is the matador’s ability to rouse the audience with flair, and these men were certainly capable of titillating the crowd.

Not only talented and gutsy, these matadors are young! Michelito Lagravere, pictured above, is only 15! Bullfighting became his passion when he was 11 and still learning integers.

Personally, I prefer the romantic gestures of the Marinera dancers during “intermission.”

At any rate, salud to new experiences!