I am not quite sure what the rules or etiquette surrounding writing a travel journal after you get home, but I feel like I need to try to capture our last couple of weeks in Sevilla before the colors fade from my mind. In many ways the last few weeks of our trip were the most vivid, perhaps because we had become more engaged with our neighborhood and with Maya’s school, perhaps because it was the height of spring in southern Spain, perhaps because we left in the middle of the glorious celebration of the Feria de Abril, or more likely the confluence of all of these. We also got to share our experiences with Amy and Weston for a week, which offered a unique opportunity to celebrate all of our favorite discoveries in the city.
I don’t think I can overstate how stunning it is to see Sevilla in full bloom. When we arrived in January, the city was all orange tree, but with the emergence of spring, the streets and parks come alive with whites and pinks and purples. The gardens have been blooming in waves for the past two months, with orange blossoms, leading to the first bloom of the rose gardens, followed by the pop throughout the city of the jacaranda blooms. I fully expect Beth to comment on the flowers, but when Maya takes to making comments like, “wow, it is really stunning,” or “we need to run through the rose garden,” then you know that the flowers and trees are striking. As a parent, it is pretty delightful to see your child notice and appreciate natural beauty. The walk from the metro to Maya’s school, outside of the center of the city, was surprisingly beautiful. What in January had been a pretty stark suburban street, ended up lined with blooming jacaranda, bougainvillea, lantana, and some pink and white blooming trees that I do not recognize. I start with the description of the flowers, of a city in bloom, because the Sevillanos seem to emulate the flowers in the spring...okay I understand that sounds cheesy, but I think it is true. Between the bull fights and the Feria, the city is awash with color. The people of the city are in full bloom, and the women dress as though they are trying to outdo the gardens.
I admit that we had a little soul searching over whether or not to go to the bull fights. They have been outlawed in Catalonia… and for good reason, I think...but they are still a vibrant part of the culture in Sevilla. Apparently, appearing in the bullring in Sevilla during the Feria is a holy grail of bullfighting. The ring itself is beautiful, both in its architecture and in the richness of its colors. From the ring of arches to the rich mustard-yellow of the dirt, the setting itself is stunningly vibrant. Beth opted not to go, knowing that she would not enjoy the experience, while Amy, Maya, and I decided that we wanted to see the spectacle. I am certain people would and will question our decision to go...particularly my decision to take Maya...but we have been living around the corner from the ring for the last four months, and the event seems to run deeply in the veins of the city, so we thought we should have the experience.
We decided to try to dress the part, so I wore a sports coat and Amy dressed in a dark hued pant suit...the dictates for appropriate attire are very clear for an afternoon at the bull ring. I read a list of ten do’s and don’ts - “No mini-skirts,” “No bright colors...the bull is not supposed to see you,” things like that. In fact, the rules for attire for many events in Sevilla are quite particular...a bit of a challenge for our very casual crew. Of course, there are enough tourists attending events that the dress codes are regularly broken, but the difference between the local and the tourist becomes particularly clear; you simply are not seeing a Sevillano wearing a t-shirt at a bullfight, even if it is 95 degrees. We thought it would be fun to dress for the event. We had front row seats, but they were in the sun in the early evening - the event starts at 6:30. Unlike American sporting events, the price of tickets is largely dependent on sun versus shade. Seats in the shade cost twice what the same seats in the sun cost. Though sitting in the sun was not a huge deal for us because it was a relatively mild afternoon, a week later, when it was 90 degrees, we understood just how brutal it would have been to be in those sunny seats. It did really make me think about the contrasting character of the Spanish and the Americans. In every American sporting event I have ever attended, the cost of the seat is dictated by how close you sit to the event, regardless of the comfort level of that seat...with the exception of the luxury box.Both at the bullfights and the soccer games, seats in the sun are much cheaper, and seats that provide a more complete view of the event are more expensive that those that are simply closer. Also, in both the soccer stadium and the bullring, there is no stadium experience beyond the event itself...no dancers, no jumbotron three card monty, no giveaways. In fact, there is almost nothing for sale inside the events. You can buy a drink, but that is about it. The streets around the bullring were closed to traffic, which created a massive street party as fans billowed out of cafes and bars, but once they came into the bullring, they were there to watch the bullfight.
The bullfight itself reminded me a little of a Broadway musical without the musical numbers; it is a tightly choreographed show that moves through four acts (restarting for each of the six bulls), and it features a flamboyant star...in a crazy costume...with a huge supporting cast...in their own crazy costumes. An afternoon bullfight consists of three matadors and six bulls - each matador fights two bulls, and each fight follows a pretty strict script. After the matadors and picadors march out proudly in their wildly colorful and beglittered outfits, the ring is cleared and a man dressed like an airline pilot...no kidding...comes out, looks around to see that the ring is ready, and he opens the door so the bull can enter the ring. That is his entire job. When the bull runs out, he chases after the matador and his three banderilleros...all of them are dressed in fancy matador costumes. Each chooses some crazy bright color to wear. And, yes, I did consider buying one for myself, and I even talked to the tailor who makes them; however, 3000 euros seemed like a lot for a costume that was not bound to be terribly flattering on my body...very tight pants and high pink socks. Regardless of the color of the matador outfit, everyone wears pink socks - who knew the fashion of the 1980’s (Think Miami Vice) had a bullfighting connection. Anyway, the matador and his banderilleros tire out the bull by taunting him and then running behind a little wall in the bull ring. This goes on until four horn players play a tune signaling the beginning of the next act, at which point two toreadores enter the ring on horseback. They also have silly outfits, which we decided makes them look like dorky knights. The horses are outfitted in a kevlar armour to protect them from being gored. Along with the toreadores, comes about 15 young men dressed like 1920’s newsies...I am not making this up...whose job is to -- I have no idea why they were there! They have blue pants, red shirts, fedoras, and they look like they should break into a musical number...sadly they don’t. They just seem to be sidekicks for the toreadors. The matador leads the bull toward a toreador; he needs to keep him from charging the horse from a distance...because that would be very bad (Maya closed her eyes for this part). Once close, the bull attempts to gore the horse, while the toreador stabs him in the back/shoulder with a spear. Amazingly, the kevlar protected horse stands its ground. After the toreador stabs the bull twice in the shoulder, the horns sound again, signalling the transition to the third act - our favorite. This consists of two of the banderilleros, who we called “jumping stick dudes,” sticking the bull with two brightly decorated sticks (banderillas). They would get the bull to run directly at them, jump to the side while sticking the banderillas in the back of the bull, then sprint and jump over the side of the ring with a bull in hot pursuit. The horns would then play again, signally the final act.
If you think professional athletes in the U.S. strut and preen, they are nothing compared to a matador entering the ring for this final act. They disregard the bull, strut around, and make a show of placing their very strange hat on the ground...attitude appears to be everything. What is fully unique about this final act is the engagement of the crowd. The goal of the matador is to get into a sort of tight dance with the bull, in which the bull makes tighter and tighter passes until he is almost mesmerized by the matador. If this happens, the crowd chants “ole” at each pass, if the matador fails to engage the bull fully, the crowd whistles and gets restless. If the matador is doing particularly well, a full band begins to play - yes, there is a full band there, but they will not play if the matador is not doing well. They might not play at all in an afternoon. For one bull, a man in the crowd called for the band to play, but the music did not start. Who decides when to start up the band and how was they decide was not clear to us, but it was totally intriguing. During the first bull of the afternoon, there was no music, and the matador did a poor job of killing the bull cleanly, as a result, the crowd roundly ignored the matador...there was not even a courtesy clap...just silence and disdain. It was actually a bizarre sort of brutal honesty. Two bulls later, the young Mexican matador, Joselito, got so close to the bull that he held its horn to his chest. The music played and he killed the bull cleanly. For his effort he was cheered mightily, and he was awarded one of the bull’s ears (the highest honor is two ears and being carried out of the main door on people’s shoulders). He took a victory lap with his posse, as people threw their hats to him, and he threw them back. Mostly he strutted while holding a bull’s ear proudly in his right hand. Though I have no real desire to return - the cruelty is a bit much for me - the ceremony and spectacle was pretty amazing.
