The Fiesta

So if you were reading the last post you are probably now on the edge of your seats to hear all about the fiesta in Moyogalpo. I know I would be if I were where you are now. Not to rub it in or anything. Anyway, on with the story. We check into the Hotel Aly and it seems alright except for the fact that our room is near 1 million degrees centigrade and smells of something from a swamp (just choose your favorite one, okeefanokee for me) because of all the muddy and dirty clothes that we have in our bags. I have figured out is ok not to wash your clothes for a month if you are in NZ and it is really cold outside but if you are constantly sweating in the muggy heat down here and you are traveling with 2 other guys the rooms can get a little rank. Sorry for the aside but I didn't Want to cast Hotel Aly in a bad light for something that is completely our fault. So we run into some Americans, the Canadian Dan (who hiked the other volcano that day), and an Irish chick. These characters don't really tie into the story other to say that they were there, we ate with them, went to a dance later with them, and generally were pretty good friends with them. I always like to show how I can make friends even though it was really no work of mine. Oh yeah, I just thought of something really funny. We said 'get er done' a lot on the way up the mountain and then after we said 'got er done'. Ha, that's the kinds stuff we can come up with. Also, Manuel told a lot of other bromas (jokes) that I didn't understand but certainly laughed at. Anyway the fiesta.

We wander over to an area of town where we hear a lot of commotion, fireworks, and music after throwing our bags down. The place is packed but luckily the big bull fight hasn't started yet. We go for the seats around the bull ring, pit, field thing that are elevated. They did run us 10 cordobas each (roughly 60 cents I suppose) but were entirely worth it since they were near the tree in the middle. There were already quite a few people there, estimates came to about 300 or 400, most of the males between the ages of 10 and 50 were in the middle. Most of them drunk or drinking. None drunk like the guy passed out below us who finally got dragged up and out of the ring. They were drinking some sort of crappy sugar cane liquor out of plastic bags. This is a typical way of getting a to go drink so it wasn't entirely odd till people started falling down and had dead looks in their eyes. So no shirt guy was the highlight till the bull fight started. He staggered about and kept trying to do anything he could to help set up for the bulls and then he goes and leans on a wall and pees in the middle of the whole thing. He has had his pants open the whole time so I guess this was quite convenient for him. The bulls started coming in and they were small at first and scared for their lives. There were about 20 guys with horses in the ring and they pulled the bulls out of the corral and towards the tree previously mentioned, really just a log with a y on top. They used the y with their ropes through it for leverage and pulled with the horses. Interesting way to start. Once the bull was all the way to the pole they roped him around his neck and got it as tight as possible before putting the ropes to hold onto and around the ol ball sack to make em buck real good. These bulls were so freaked out they were pissing and crapping themselves everywhere. Might be typical cow behavior but was a first for me. Certainly not an animal rights activists cup of tea. The riders were also in age from 10 to 50 and the bulls got up to some real big guys well over 1000 pounds I suppose. The thing is it wasn't really a fight. After the ride they got the ropes off of the bulls and then the red bull towel, blanket things came out and they tried to get it to run around awhile. All during this time no shirt guy is trying to get on just about every bull and trying to help with the ropes and everyone is pretty angry with him and they keep throwing him to the ground and out of the ring. At some point a guy in a yellow NJ Nets shirt shows up and he is, if possible, drunker than no shirt guy. This guy is adamant about getting on a bull and after nearly being trampled at the pole, getting punched in the face and knocked to the ground by another guy out there and attempting to bite the guy for retribution he manages to get on one. The thing was the bull had already run and they had released him when yellow shirt climbs off the fence and gets on backward. Everyone in the crowd knows this is a bad idea and it turns out that he falls off in about half a second and does get trampled while they are trying to pull him away. We heard that in addition to his swollen eye from earlier he got some nasty gashes on his face. Don't know what else but we were pretty scared for him. Some of the other riders were in button up shirts and there weren't many that didn't want to give it a try. It ended on a down note with the last bull not cooperating enough to get tied to the pole and letting it go run about and scare everyone up the fences. The guy who was supposed to ride it looked quite relieved. This may have been the most interesting and crazy cultural experience of my life. Basically a three ring circus, non stop action, not always feel good entertainment, but entertainment none the less perhaps like the gladiators of Rome. That night there was a live band with some countryish Latin music but nothing comparable to the days activities. A lot more people were drunk by then but nothing too amazing. Also cost 50 cordobas ($3) to get in. What do they take us for, fools?