Bullfights

If you’re flicking through the channels on a hot summers night theres a good chance you’ll find a bullfight on in prime time. For the last few months the posters for the upcoming torradas have been plastered over every free space in Montemor. So the world cup is over time to introduce you to the summer "sport" here since I experienced one first hand about a month ago. Disclaimer – since they are such a part of society here I am observing, not supporting/criticising. Hypocritical fence-sitter as always.

One important point to at the start is that the bull is not killed in the ring (like in Spain). Wishful thinking has me hoping that the bull is allowed to grow old under a cork tree telling the calves about the day he ran in circles while people cheered and a guy on a horse poked him with spears, but my rational self tells me I’m dreaming. However to remove a wounded/grumpy/afraid/tired bull from the ring then you first have to catch. And being a Latino country then this risky task must be done with as much spectacle and include some sort of test of manhood. I give you the “pega”.
Instructions are pretty simple. About 12 guys get in the ring and stand in single file. The guy at the front “encourages” the bull to notice him by yelling, and when the bull charges him he tried to take it front on, around the horns, in a bear hug. Just like tackling Jonah Lomu, or Plugger Lockett except 5 times the weight.


Bullfights are not just the pega. As was explained to me at the bullfight I watched “there are some tasks to be undertaken with the bull”. Mostly involving a guy on a horse riding around poking spears into the bull and then riding around the ring to lap up the adulation. It becomes mesmerising, with the pomp and ceremony, a glimpse of an ancient and primitive world. As a spectacle it’s at its best in the early stages, when the bull is racing around the ring like someone’s pulled his tail and ran away. Later on when the bull has been injured more and becomes tired and afraid the cruelty of it does hit home, as if on cue the brass band starts up to provide some entertainment and tell the cavaleiro to hurry up and get it over with.

The truly amazing part is the horses – not only are they beautiful and groomed for the occasion, but the way they can bend and swerve (like Juddy!), even dance, and show no fear with a bull in front of them is breathtaking. Here then is horsey pics/p0rn for those who appreciate such things.

Yes my mind is turning back to Australia at the moment but even at the time it struck me of the similarity between bullfights and cricket games. Not just the arena ringed with a beer-drinking crowd roaring at something which didn't seem that interesting. Most of the Portuguese I talked to mostly went to and enjoyed bullfights as kids, usually with their dad/grandfathers, now they’re older it’s not so cool and they don’t enjoy it as much because they understand the cruelty (OK not so similar to cricket there), but they also see the tradition as valuable and admit they will probably take their kids/grandkids. The trend among 20-30 year olds at the moment is it's “cool” to be traditional, to enjoy traditional food, Portuguese beer, and enjoy bullfighting. I’m reminded of the fake country boys in Perth, in immaculately pressed moleskins and Country Road flannelette shirts talking about a land they’d never had to work, about roo-shooting they’d never had to do to protect a farm. The Portuguese guys even dress in flannies too.