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  • HOME
  • ABOUT
  • THE FAMILY ALBUM
  • ONCE UPON A TIME IN ROMANIA
    • ▸Bucharest, 1989: The days of Revolution
    • ▸I’ve also lived under communism
    • ▸Portraits of transition
    • ▸”Cabernet cu pepsi”
    • ▸Romania, 1990: Beyond the headlines
    • ▸“Mineriada” – My story
    • ▸Memorial of pain
  • WORK IN PROGRESS
    • ▸Barbershop
    • ▸Melancholic Identities
    • ▸Faces
    • ▸Fragmentary world
    • ▸Two
    • ▸Buddhist monks
    • ▸About windows and walls
    • ▸Mediterraneo
  • STORIES
    • ▸Alone, together
    • ▸Life and death in Varanasi
    • ▸Trans-Siberian – An experience of becoming
    • ▸Boxing in Havana
    • ▸Moving out of Escobar shadow
    • ▸One night at Htee Thein monastery
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – I misteri
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – La pasquetta
    • ▸Stalin’s Museum in Gori
    • ▸Havana: Between magic and decay
    • ▸Muay Thai for a day
    • ▸Cuban billboards
    • ▸Seeking a geisha
    • ▸Belfast’s murals: Behind and beyond
    • ▸Riding the Yangon’s ring train
    • ▸Bazar-Barakholka-Vernisazh
    • ▸An unexpected trip to Dhobi Ghat
    • ▸A different way to look at death
    • ▸Cannes under siege
    • ▸Inside the Guru’s kitchen
    • ▸Tibetan refugees
    • ▸The Golden Triangle: A Mecca of tribal diversity
    • ▸Bullfighting: Barbaric or art ?
    • ▸Crafts and traditions in Morroco
    • ▸Glastonbury with God
  • TRAVEL
    • Cuba
      • ▸The show must go on (part 1)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 2)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 3)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 4)
    • France
      • ▸Paris
      • ▸Paris. Again
    • Greece
      • ▸Mount Athos
      • ▸Postcards from Santorini
      • ▸Athens
      • ▸Mykonos – The picture-perfect Island
    • Germany
      • ▸Berlin
    • Vietnam
      • ▸Four days in Hanoi
      • ▸Cruising through the misty Halong Bay
    • India
      • ▸Portraits of Kashmir
      • ▸Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
      • ▸Life on the Sidewalk
    • Ireland
      • ▸The capital of pubs
      • ▸Ireland in ten days
    • Israel
      • ▸Israel in black & white
    • Colombia
      • ▸Colombia
      • ▸Paisas, coffee and much more
      • ▸Streets of Bogota – From Dystopia to Hope
      • ▸Life along the magical Magdalena River
      • ▸A non-touristy guide to Cartagena’s Caribbean paradise
    • Myanmar
      • ▸Min-ga-la-ba Myanmar
      • ▸Up and down on the hills of Shan State
    • Japan
      • ▸Tokyo
      • ▸Springtime in Kyoto
    • Portugal
      • ▸Life at the edge of Europe
    • Russian Federation
      • ▸The unexpected Moscow
      • ▸White Nights in St. Petersburg
    • Italy
      • ▸Rome
      • ▸Random Sicily
      • ▸Vedi Napoli e poi mori
      • ▸Venice
      • ▸Vanishing Venice
    • Morocco
      • ▸Sunset, camel rides and tea in Erg Chebi
      • ▸Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities
      • ▸Morocco outskirts
      • ▸Djemaa El Fna encounters
      • ▸Surf and hippies
      • ▸The road of the One thousand kasbahs
      • ▸Amazigh – Berber – Free men
    • Georgia
      • ▸Postcards from Georgia
      • ▸The Many Faces of Tbilisi
    • Nepal
      • ▸Kathmandu Valley
    • Romania
      • ▸Romania to go
      • ▸Maramures
      • ▸Tara Motilor
    • Jordan
      • ▸Bedouin Trails
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      • ▸From Turkey with love
      • ▸Ballooning Cappadocia
      • ▸Where East meets West
      • ▸Street life, Istanbul-style
    • Mexico
      • ▸Finding Mexico City
    • Malaysia
      • ▸Transit KL
    • UK
      • ▸London
      • ▸Grab your kilt and bring your pipes
    • Sweden
      • ▸Stockholm
    • Spain
      • ▸Off-season Andalusia
    • Thailand
      • ▸Bangkok, year 2555
      • ▸Life in Pai
      • ▸Thailand
    • Laos
      • ▸Luang Prabang – The City of ultimate Zen
    • Poland
      • ▸Why I love Poland
    • Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania
      • ▸Neighbors, but not relatives
      • ▸Patarei – A little slice of Hell
    • Findland
      • ▸A sunny day in Helsinki
    • Denmark
      • ▸Copenhagen
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Bullfighting: Barbaric or Art?

 

The matador flourishes his cape, the bull charges, the crowd cheers: this is the image of Spain best known to the world. Bullfighting is seen as a symbol of Spanish culture. Contemporary bullfighting is probably the most artful and sophisticated way certain cultures celebrate the bravery of the hunter.

As far as I am concerned, I always had the desire to see such performance as a dream of slices of music, clothing and other cultural aspects associated to the phenomenon. There are few places in the world where the spectacle of bullfighting can be seen yet. Mexico is one of the last countries where the bullfighting is allowed, so in 2014 when I was in Mexico City I took a ticket and went to the first… and last (I can say that, at this point) such show.

The fight was over. Tourists’ cameras flashed. The carcass was hooked up to a pack of four horses and dragged out of the stadium to be butchered and sold as a delicacy in the hotels. Vendors continued to sell their sodas and beer; the band played a cheery musical interlude; red-shirted workers swept away the blood and smoothed over the sand.

Eventually, it’s Spanish tradition or animal cruelty? I think it’s both. Each bullfight continues an important tradition: the ritual of the bullfight, the specific language, the music – all are part of the tradition. I am definitely glad I went and experienced a symbol of Spanish tradition; however I’ll never go again. I will be completely honest – the bullfight is cruel and gruesome. Do not be confused, the bulls always die. What’s so fun about watching a defenseless creature being brutalized?

 

 

 

 

 

Bullfighting: Barbaric or Art?

 

The matador flourishes his cape, the bull charges, the crowd cheers: this is the image of Spain best known to the world. Bullfighting is seen as a symbol of Spanish culture. Contemporary bullfighting is probably the most artful and sophisticated way certain cultures celebrate the bravery of the hunter.

As far as I am concerned, I always had the desire to see such performance as a dream of slices of music, clothing and other cultural aspects associated to the phenomenon. There are few places in the world where the spectacle of bullfighting can be seen yet. Mexico is one of the last countries where the bullfighting is allowed, so in 2014 when I was in Mexico City I took a ticket and went to the first… and last (I can say that, at this point) such show.

The fight was over. Tourists’ cameras flashed. The carcass was hooked up to a pack of four horses and dragged out of the stadium to be butchered and sold as a delicacy in the hotels. Vendors continued to sell their sodas and beer; the band played a cheery musical interlude; red-shirted workers swept away the blood and smoothed over the sand.

Eventually, it’s Spanish tradition or animal cruelty? I think it’s both. Each bullfight continues an important tradition: the ritual of the bullfight, the specific language, the music – all are part of the tradition. I am definitely glad I went and experienced a symbol of Spanish tradition; however I’ll never go again. I will be completely honest – the bullfight is cruel and gruesome. Do not be confused, the bulls always die. What’s so fun about watching a defenseless creature being brutalized?

WARNING: SOME PHOTOS ARE GORY WITH BLOOD!
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