Toro, Toro! (warning....kind of graphic)

Yesterday marked our second full week of school. We have class from Monday to Thursday, and then we usually have an activity on Friday (aka we basically go see the place(s) we talked about in History class on Thursday). 


This week we went to Madinat Al-Zahara. It was build around 900 A.D. and only lasted for about 80 years. It was a city that was built for the Caliph to live in, but it got destroyed during a civil war. All the marble floors we walked on were original. It was crazy to think about the history behind the place we were standing in. 

This used to be the outside wall surrounding the city

Right after the field trip, we went to a bull fight. I know, right?? How Spanish. A group of us girls took a bus to a little pueblo nearby called Pozoblanco to watch the festivities that afternoon. It was....interesting.

 Definitely nothing I had ever seen before...and I'm not sure I would be down to see one ever again...but I am glad that I went this one time. Initially, we were all HORRIFIED at how it worked. A bull runs out (already wounded so that he's mad) and then a group of matadors run around and distract it. Then one matador in particular does a fancy schmancy routine of distracting the bull with a neon pink cloak thing. 

Then another guy on a (blindfolded) horse comes in with a huge spear and stabs the bull in the back. This is when we REALLY freaked out). After this, about 2 of the matadors do some more fancy schmancy footwork and then stick these decorated hooks into the bulls back. 

Then the main matador comes out again with a red cloak and a sword and "dances" with the bull before he stabs and kills it. 

The first bull was unbelievably hard to watch....and half of the girls left the ring because they couldn't handle it. The rest of us decided to stay for the rest of the show. There were 6 bulls total! After the first two bulls, I realized that I could either dwell on the fact that it was horrible, or try to understand why this was considered such an art to the Spaniards. Watching the matadors, you come to realize that their ability to do well was dependent on how clean they could perform. The first guy missed with the sword and had to stab the bull many times, while the last guy got it in one quick motion. The second guy got the trophy (the two ears of the bull) and a standing ovation for the crowd. The Spaniards don't go to see bulls die, but to see the skill and agility of the matador and his ability to predict and control the bull's movements.. (And the bulls get eaten afterwards, so it's not a waste...that made me feel a little bit better) There is a high degree of respect that comes with this tradition (though it's hard to see, especially for Americans). 

Oh but fun/sad/slightly funny fact...the last matador definitely got hit in the knee by the bull! It was crazy! One of the girls got in on tape. We got some dirty looks because we were rooting for the bull. But it was already stabbed, so it died :(