Other than Steve McCurry’s photographs, I haven’t reblogged another blog – but this deserves to be seen.
Kathy has beautifully expressed the dichotomy an outsider feels on going to a bullfight for the first time.
I attended a bullfight in Seville several years ago, and I found it both exhilarating and deeply disturbing.
Dear Reader, please don’t get your panties in a knot.
There are two things I know to be true about bullfighting:
a.) Bullfighting is growing in unpopularity in those countries where it is most popular – Spain, Mexico, some Central and South American countries.
b.) It is firmly planted in Spanish culture.
And I suddenly had the chance to see a bullfight in Sahagun.
I had arrived in Sahagun early. I had been hearing about the festival of San Juan de Sahagun and seeing posters about the bullfight for several days. In Fromista, a local resident had thrust a flyer in my hand, urging me to see the bullfight since I was heading for Sahagun.
My initial reaction was – Ugh! Bullfighting is a blood sport. The bull doesn’t stand a chance, doomed the moment it sets hoof in the ring. Why would I want to watch someone put…
View original post 779 more words