Tourada!

Yesterday we went to a tourada , which is a running of the bulls. I had only seen videos of these things on youtube before, and usually they ended up with someone getting hurt (which was probably the reason they were on youtube), so I was excited to see one in real life. The tourada started at the beginning of May, and will throughout the summer in different locations around the island. This particular one was in São Mateus, a city about 4 km away from Angra. One (terrifyingly fast) taxi ride later, we were there. The taxi driver dropped us off in a neighborhood, and we walked about a block before we saw the crowds and food stalls. It felt like a giant social event, where people from surrounding towns would gather, much like a local fair. Except with bulls.

In a tourada, bulls are essentially let loose in a street. The audience lines the streets behind the relative safety of walls, while the professional handlers and Azoreans taunt the bull. The bull is actually held back by a thick rope, which is controlled by a group of four handlers. Most of the time though, they let the bull run free, and only used the rope when the bull went too far off course. The locals would also get in the street and play with (but mostly run from) the bull. Because you can't always see the bull (because it might be around the corner), the handlers set off one firework when the bull was out of the pen, and two when it's back in. You had to be on your guard once the bull was released.

One firecracker went off. The bull was out. I stood on a knee-height wall with the other Atlantis Project folk, and waited to see what would happen. It took about 3 minutes for the bull to round the bend in the road. It was bigger than I had expected. And faster. You could always tell when the bull was coming your way, because there would be a handful of young men sprinting out in front of it. Everyone was yelling/hitting the bull as it came by. The first few times, I'll admit that I was scared that the bull would jump the wall, and make all our lives tough for the next few weeks, but thankfully that didn’t happen.

There were three bulls in all, released one at a time. By the third bull, I was felt like I knew enough of what was going on to venture out into the street. I joined a group of Azoreans and started walking up the hill towards it. Every few feet I would look to my side to make sure that there was a wall to climb in case I had to make a quick exit. The bull rounded the corner. This was the biggest yet, and seemed really (really really) angry. It was zig-zagging from one side of the street to the other, slamming into the walls on either side. This didn't stop any of the people in the street however, so I figured I had a good chance. I would try to get as close to the bull as possible without it charging at me. The trouble was, bulls are unexpectedly quick; they can go from walking to full out sprint in a second. As I got closer to the bull, my walk slowed to a creep, and my muscles tightened; if the bull made the slightest indication of being ready to charge, I was planning on getting out of the way quickly. I think the closest I got was about 25 feet away; close enough to hear it panting and hear its saliva flying from its mouth. I had started moving towards the nearest scalable wall when the bull charged, thankfully away from my side of the street. I was unable to make it all the way up the wall (it was quite tall), but hung on for a few seconds while the bull passed, after which I dropped back on the street. A few minutes later, they brought the bull back in; the tourada was over.

What a rush.