Zach Klitzman | Running done, so it's time to fight

PAMPLONA, Spain, July 12

In Spain, for a few months this summer on the Penn-in-Alicante program, I had the unique experience of being able to travel to Pamplona to take part in the ceremonies surrounding the festival of San Fermin.

While the encierro, or Running of the Bulls is the most well-known event during Sanfermines [Zach's experiences with this event was detailed in last week's SP], the second most popular event also involves los toros. There is an actual purpose of the bull run: to herd the bulls from the corral at the edge of town into the bull ring in the middle of the city. Why? For las corridas, the bullfights.

Every evening during the festival, at 6:30, Pamplona's plaza de toros hosts a bullfight that sees three matadors take on two bulls apiece. The stadium seats just a shade under 20,000, making it the third-largest bull ring in the world. And despite the rain Saturday, nearly every seat was filled.

Expanding on the Spring Fling analogy, the bullfight would be the equivalent of the Friday night concert. Except there are 20,000 people (and, yet again, lax alcohol rules). I was fortunate, yes fortunate, to sit way up in the nosebleed section. Why fortunate? Because the upper deck is where the rowdy crowd sits.

Instead of watching the bullfight - which probably gets boring after the 30 bulls they'd already seen in five days - the people instead eat and drink. It reminded me of a tailgate, but during the game.

But it's so much more than just a tailgate. Most spectators are season ticket holders and thus are quite familiar with the people sitting in their section. People share food and drink, discuss the past days's action, and barely pay attention to the bulls. In fact, the man sitting next to me explained that it's considered an "accident" if the spectators in the rowdy section look at the bullfight.

The atmosphere is raucous in part because people aren't afraid to throw their food and drinks at each other. In fact, even if it wasn't raining I would've needed a poncho. The spectators throw stuff if you stand at an inopportune time (even if they're technically not watching the fight), if someone sings happy birthday to you (even if it's not your birthday), or if they just feel like it.

In addition, there is a band that roves around the stadium playing songs. They even played the Hey Song, and while many Spaniards did sing along with the "hey" part, Penn Athletics would be happy to know that no one's English was good enough to tag on the infamous "you suck."

Of course, just because the Spaniards weren't watching the bullfight doesn't mean I wasn't. In fact, I was quite fascinated with what is considered Spain's national sport. (Just like America, where baseball is called the national pasttime but football is more popular, Spain's national sport is bullfighting though soccer is by far the most popular.)

I am definitely not an animal rights activist, yet I've got to admit there is something unnerving about the cruelty of the bullfight. The whole point of each stage is to make the bull weaker and weaker as it loses more and more blood. (In fact, it's a common misconception that the capes are reddish since bulls are attracted to red. They're actually colorblind. It's only red so the blood doesn't show).

Furthermore, a good matador makes a show of everything by playing to the crowd. Clearly the Spanish machismo is important to a matador. After the bull is finally killed, the carcass is dragged out of the stadium in all of its dead glory.

Despite all of this, I will admit I was quite enthralled with the corrida. It clearly was a unique event, something you'll never see in America (too many activists). Unfortunately the matadors weren't especially good, probably due to the rain that had fallen both before and during the fight. Yet leaving the stadium, as I was getting drenched by wine from the spectators in the stands, I couldn't help but admit that this was one incredible spectacle, and quite possibly the highlight of my trip to Spain.

Now that I've had time to reflect on my trip to Pamplona, I sure am glad I decided to go. Was it worth a 18-hour round trip bus ride to spend exactly the same amount of time in the city itself? Absolutely. Was it worth getting a small cut to run with the bulls? Definitely. Was it worth paying $65 to see the bull fight? Without a doubt.

Too often, Americans are confined to appreciating the sporting events within their own country. But study abroad programs afford students the rare opportunity to escape that bubble and appreciate the sporting events offered around the world.

For even casual sports fans who find themselves studying or otherwise abroad for a semester or even a few weeks, it should go without saying that these opportunities are exceedingly rare. Whenever you find yourself in a foreign country, be sure to immerse yourself completely in whatever sport that community happens to be crazy about, be it bullfighting or soccer or cricket. It very well could be the experience of a lifetime.

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