Pamplona...Los Encierros

The weather has taken a turn for the best and is nice and warm in the bright sun with a light cool breeze. The other morning, we went to a café that we saw advertised in the window our favorite Italian coffee, Illy, and had the best café yet since leaving Rome. I also ordered an apple pastry, accidentally telling the bakery clerk I wanted a melanzana (Italian for eggplant) pastry, when I meant manzana (Spanish for apple). Luckily he didn’t know Italian because melanzana wouldn’t have been a good flavored breakfast pastry. Pointing is probably the best method of communicating until my Spanish improves. We sat in the sun and sipped our hot drinks and ate our breakfasts, then caught the bus to Pamplona, an hour away from San Sebastian. What chaos The city was packed with people and literally every person we saw was wearing all white with red belts or bandanas in celebration of “Los Encierros” - the running of the bulls. Some people were sleeping in random areas - under trees, on benches, at the bus stop - obviously recovering still from a rough night before. We arrived after today’s ‘running’, which happens for about 2 minutes every morning for a week, but we arrived just in time for all the fiestas. We walked the city of Pamplona - the big plazas, the winding streets and saw the stadium where every night’s bull fights are held. We walked the trail that the bulls run on and stopped at the corral where the bulls are held and released each morning for the running. We also got to see photos posted in the plaza of the run of the day... The city was loud and alive, with mariachi bands playing, giant parades chanting down the streets, live guitar music coming from a stage, street performers break dancing or performing magic and just crowds and crowds of people laughing, screaming, dancing, talking, partying. It seemed like everyone was on a mission to get as drunk as possible, and many, well, most it seemed succeeded -especially the kid puking next to us. After walking throughout the chaos for a while, we decided to sit under a tree in the grass with loads of others and have some sangria - which we were able to buy a huge jug of for 3 euro. As we sat there meeting our neighbors, people watching, talking, laughing, drinking and eating bocadillos. I looked around and felt this overwhelming sense of happiness, an appreciation for my life...the different cultures I have experienced, the people I have met, the places I have been, the world that Sean and I have been able to see together. It was a good feeling, and one I will never forget. We got back to San Sebastian late, tired and sun drained. I have had very mixed feelings over this whole event. In one sense, everyone was happy and having a good time. I had a lot of fun too, and just couldn’t believe the craziness. In another sense, one that no one thinks about in their drunken hazes, is that people get hurt, animals are being tortured. A Spanish boy, 27 years old was killed the same day by the horn of a bull. It’s such a sad, sad thing... that a person, who was actually passionate about this, and has trained his whole life running, lost his life. In contrast to the people who come here from all over the world to party and have a good time, he saw this as an art form, a beautiful and important part of his culture. I think about his family and friends, who said goodbye to him that day, unaware that in his quest for experiencing his yearly tradition and fun, he wouldn’t survive. It kind of puts a cloud over the whole thing, and makes me think it is just a little bit cruel. I also couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad for the bulls, so powerful, mighty and strong, and yet also at the mercy of man...So, all in all it was an interesting experience, and I am glad we went, and also glad we missed the running, as I couldn’t have stood to see anyone hurt. During our time in Pamlona, we were having a blast, and now I just hope there are no more fatalities.