Toro! Toro! Toro!

Wednesday, March 4th, the four of us went to a bullfight in Puerto Vallarta. Later, we were told that the young, less experienced guys fight in Puerto Vallarta, and that if we wanted to see a real bullfight, we would have to go to Mexico City. In addition, we weren't aware that in Puerto Vallarta, bullfighting is strictly a tourist sport. I'm pretty sure that the only local women I saw (sitting behind colorful banners) were the matadors' mamas.

I had read an article or two about the bullfighting process, so I had an idea of what I would see. I was as prepared as I could be for the events of the fight, but there was no way I could have prepared myself for the crying sound the bull made after the first spear. I had wanted to go because I had heard so much negative press about the cruelty of the fights, but if I hadn't seen it myself, how could I form a valid, educated opinion one way or the other. And at the same time, bullfighting is part of the culture. Granted, at least in Puerto Vallarta, the fight has become more tourist culture than local culture, but the show was originally once upon a time for the locals.

I've posted a few photos. I took a lot, but am posting a few of the less graphic photos. While the blood and injuring made my stomach turn, I really enjoyed watching the dance-like moves of the matadors (well, most of them. There was one that didn't exactly know what he was doing and lost both of his shoes!)