Day 19 – Pamplona – The Running of the Bulls

July 7, 2019 – This is going to be a very long post, so bear with me. It was an action-packed day.

We had to get up at 5:30 am this morning which came very early after celebrating late the night before. Wayne wanted to run with the bulls today and I was not sure how I felt about this…who does this? Who in their right mind would run with bulls born and bred to be mean and want to gore you? Yep, that’s right, Wayne.

It was dark as we walked out to the street dressed in our second set of new clean outfits… We had to throw the wine stained ones from yesterday away. As we were walking the sun began coming up and we saw many people who looked like they might be going to go run with the bulls as well. Most of them were men. We also saw several (mostly young) people who were headed the other direction just leaving the party from the night before. They were still in their wine-soaked clothes from yesterday-oh to be young. No one was really too out of control though.

As we got closer and walked into Old Town, we were taken aback at all the trash that was literally everywhere…. the gigantic party from yesterday and all night long was evident. They had dumpster like trashcans everywhere that were overflowing and there were bottles and trash strewn all over the streets. I sure would hate to be on the clean-up crew. There was a strong wine smell everywhere. You would think that they would have had it cleaned up a bit overnight. The crews were just starting to clean with trash trucks and street sweepers, as well as, fire hoses washing down the street where the run takes place all the while dodging all the people.

We identified an area where I should stand and wait for the bull run then we split up and Wayne went to check in for the run. There is a place to line up and the police come around to make sure you aren’t too drunk, old or unhealthy to participate. We were not sure if he would be allowed… so he was going to try his best not to limp when he arrived at check-in.

I was going to plant myself where we talked about me standing so I could possibly see him run by (and get gored), but the place was too crowded with 5 people deep at the fence line. I found another spot not far from the original spot and noticed that they had not closed the fence there yet. I grabbed the gate so when they closed it, I would be in the front row and literally on the gate itself. Shortly after I arrived, they closed the gate and I got right in the front. Some young guy, roughly my boys age, tried to squeeze me out, but I gave him my disapproving mom look while I shook my head no… he slinked away. Ha-ha!

Wayne made it to the area where he was supposed to check in…. but then they made everyone leave that area to secure the street and re-check in a couple blocks away so he had to hustle around a few blocks with a hundred of his adrenaline fueled friends he made that morning in the street talking about the run. Apparently, he walked right by me but we didn’t see each other…as literally 99% of the people there were wearing the same thing we were.

I was hanging on the fence, which was super awkward and uncomfortable, and there were more people trying to squeeze into my spot, so I decided to climb up on the fence with all the young people. There was a sweet young girl (who was my fence neighbor) who held my things while I climbed up on the fence and perched myself on a 6.5-foot-tall fence. It was very uncomfortable and I was afraid I was going to fall off because people were climbing through the fence, and bumping into me and my legs while going in and out of the bull route. I was comforted by the fact that directly in front of me was the medical team, so if I fell off the fence, they could tend to me…haha.

My fence neighbor, the sweet young girl, was 17 years old and spoke English so we chatted for much of our fence time together. She had spent a year in Pennsylvania as a foreign exchange student. She answered a lot of my questions about the bull run then thoroughly schooled me regarding San Fermin. She grew up attending and celebrating every aspect of the festival and can’t wait until next year when she can run herself (you have to be 18 to run). She said that she wished that everyone who came to the festival knew that it was not just about the party, bull run and fights, that is was something that was a deep, rich, cultural tradition and a major part of her life. She was very mature for her age. She had been up all night celebrating as well.

Spanish tradition holds that bull-running (encierro) began in northeastern Spain in the early 14th century. While transporting cattle in order to sell them at the market, men would try to speed the process by hurrying their cattle using tactics of fear and excitement. After years of this practice, the transportation and hurrying began to turn into a competition, as young adults would attempt to race in front of the bulls and make it safely to their pens without being overtaken. When the popularity of this practice increased and was noticed more and more by the expanding population of Spanish cities, a tradition was created and stands to this day.

The encierro begins with runners singing a benediction. It is sung three times, each time being sung both in Spanish and Basque. The benediction is a prayer given at a statue of Saint Fermin to ask the saint’s protection and can be translated into English as “We ask Saint Fermin, as our Patron, to guide us through the encierro and give us his blessing”. The singers finish by shouting “¡Viva San Fermín! and Gora San Fermin! (‘Long live Saint Fermin’, in Spanish and Basque, respectively). Most runners dress in the traditional clothing of the festival and some of them also hold the day’s newspaper rolled up to draw the bulls’ attention from them if necessary.

A first LOUD rocket is set off at 8 a.m. to alert the runners in the street that the corral gate is open. A second rocket signals that all six bulls have been released and you better start running!! After the bulls have run through the street the third and fourth rockets signals that all of the herd has entered the bullring and its corral respectively, marking the end of the event. The average duration between the first rocket and the end of the encierro is two minutes, 30 seconds.

The encierro is usually composed of the six fighting bulls to be fought in the bullring that afternoon, six steers that run in herd with the bulls, and three more steers that follow the herd to encourage any reluctant or distracted bulls to continue along the route rather than deciding to gore a few more runners. The function of the steers is to essentially encourage a herd mentality all the way to the bull ring so the easily distracted fighting bulls don’t separate and start focusing on goring individual runners. Its a good theory but it often breaks down in actual practice as you are probably aware. The average speed of the herd is 15 mph. The length of the course is 902 yards or 2707 feet.

As 8 AM rolled around you could feel the excitement and tension in the air. Wayne said that some of the runners around him were having serious second thoughts and freaking out then seeking places to hide against the fence and wedging themselves in doorways. What a bunch of pansies. The first rocket went off and then the second and the runners kind of started to scurry a bit, then they started to really run. Very soon after that the bulls quickly ran by…and that was it…if I had blinked, I would have missed it. It happened very fast. Then the steers ran by and that was it. There was much action going on in front of the fence as a bull clipped one of the runners and injuring him so the medical personnel had pulled him in. I hopped down from the fence to go look for Wayne, hoping that he was able to run and that he was safe.

Wayne said as every hears the rockets and the adrenaline rushes its difficult to turn your back and start running until you see the bulls. The problem is you can’t wait to see the bulls because there are a mass of humanity already running full speed that have the bulls right on their tail. So everyone kind turns sideways and hops a few steps forward looking back, then looking forward, then looking back. Finally you hear the shouting of the spectators coming at you like a shock wave rapidly approaching and you know you have to start running as fast as you can. (He says for him that wasn’t extremely fast, however; he did say he was surprised how fast he can actually run since he really hasn’t tried it recently, ha-ha! ) As you run you naturally keep looking back but put one hand out front to prevent crashing into slower people or those frozen by fear. All of a sudden it get very real as the bulls are there, next to you, running in and among the crowd. Spectators are screaming and shouting, the runners are pushing and passing and falling down, and the bulls are running and they don’t look happy about it. It was absolute chaos on the street and really hard to describe how intense it is in the moment. And then, the bulls have rushed passed…….but have they all passed? You realize you didn’t really count the bulls that went by. Everyone is jogging and looking back asking, “Is that all of them? Is that it?” As we slow down everyone was laughing and shaking off the adrenaline until all of a sudden, there are MORE BULLS running down the street behind us. We ended up figuring out they were just more brown and white steers, not the all black or brown fighting bulls, but they are still massive animals running very fast with huge horns. You do not want to mess with them when the are running full speed. That was the final thrill so he headed to the agreed rendezvous point at the Hemingway statue in front of the bull ring. When we met up he looked so happy…he did it and was safe! Three men were gored that day but not him!! Crazy….

Here is the video I took from the fence of the bulls running by.

Some of you may have already seen the full course video, but let’s place it here in the blog so you can see it again.

Wayne is running on the left side of the video between minute 0:54 and 1:00.

After the bull run they put the fighting bulls away we heard this cheering in the bull ring and wondered what was going on so we walked into the stands. No tickets, no charge, just walk right in and watch the show. At this point they had let a young bull, with much less intimidating horns, into the ring to challenge some of the runners. The bull got teased quite a bit but also got his licks in. The crowd was definitely cheering for the young bull!

Okay, now that everyone is still in one piece, its on with the San Fermin Festivities. After they put the young bull away, the bands kept playing so the entire stadium broke out in song and the party continued. It was literally like this everywhere you went. Spontaneous traditional songs, dancing, bands and people just being happy with emphasis on equal measure of family, history, culture and faith. It was so fun and interesting to be a part of this crazy atmosphere throughout the entire town.

Now its was the children’s time to have a little fun. Since the 16^th century, the Giants and Bigheads have become symbols of the San Fermin Festival. In the 18th century, this tradition was lost, only to be recovered a century later thanks to the six giants kept in the Cathedral of Pamplona. The present-day paper mâché sculptures of the giants were created in 1860 almost one hundred and fifty years ago. Four pairs of Giants were created, a king and a queen for each of the continents: America, Africa, Europe and Asia,

These characters are dearly loved by the people from Pamplona, who are present at the procession year after year. Pamplonians call them Gigante y Cabezudos. At 9:30, we went over to the Palacio de Ezpeleta to see the parade. There are hundreds of families waiting. The children are stressed but happy, the parents and uncles have a big smile remembering their childhood, and the grandparents relax understanding that the next generation will love this parade as much as they did when they were kids and they still do now that they are much older. The parade is open by the Big Heads. There are 3 sets of them:

Zaldikos (or the horse men) are naughty…watch out for them, they will hit you with a big round sponge that is attached to a stick and they will have no mercy with you, no matter your age, sex, nationality …. Both Wayne and I were smacked several times. The kids love this and some had their own little mini sticks and sponges and were fighting back. (Fun fact: The city takes out an insurance policy to covered broken glasses so the Zaldikos can go about unrestrained. Everyone get smacked if you get near them. No excuses. If your glasses get broken, you file a claim form and the city pays for them. On with the show!!)

Cabezudos are the big heads that walk around, checking things out, and are very serious. They represent the good people in society or authority figures. They will shake your hand and walk away. There are five of them and they are named Alcalde (Mayor), Concejal (Councilman), Abuela (Grandmother), Japonese (Japanese man) and Japonesa (Japanese woman).

Kilikis are mean… their task is to chase and hit children that taunt them. The kids love this and will purposely poke them or yell to them to get them to notice and chase them. They represent the bad people in society. Their names are Caravinagre (Vinegar face), Verrugas (Warts), Napoléon, Patata (Potato), Coletas (Pig Tails) and Barbas (Beards). Caravinagre (Vinegar face), is the rock star in town. By the way, all of the kilikis are wearing a 3-peak hat, representing the French. That shows the love Spanish have for the French. Hahaha.

After the big heads come the Gigantes. They walk with the knowledge of being loved at the rhythm of txistus and tamborils (flutes and drums). Every 100 meters or so, they stop and dance, well, they do not just dance, they float along and twirl. They are so big, but yet so graceful. On their hands, you will see hundreds of pacifiers hanging. In Spanish tradition, when a child is ready to get rid of the pacifier, they hand it to their favorite king or queen and they will take care of it and show the world that this child has grown up and doesn’t need a pacifier any more. Children feel proud of growing up and the parents, it is a great way to get rid of the pacifier!

As the Giants, Bigheads and Horsemen march through the streets they are headed to the procession of Pamplona’s patron Saint, San Fermin. They are met by the city politicians are in all their finery, and accompanied by all kinds of music bands, including the official brass-band – The Pamplonesa. The official entourage then all set off to head for the Cathedral to collect the “cabildo” or official assemblage of ecclesiastical representatives. Then, once united, all head off for the church of San Lorenzo, where the remains of San Fermin are kept, to carry out the figure of San Fermin.

The procession retinue is headed by the Procession of Giants and Bigheads, followed by the Cross of San Lorenzo and the Archiepiscopal Cross, then come the historic guilds of carpenters and workers, the Fraternity of the Passion and the Congregation of María, behind are the buglers and drum players, the flag of Pamplona, regional dancers and the municipal Txistu players. The procession then continues with the Carrier and the Image of the Saint, followed by the Cathedral Chapter, Archbishop of Pamplona, macebearers and, ending the retinue, the Municipal Corporation, with the mayor, liveries, Municipal Police and escorts in formal dress. Finally, the municipal band, La Pamplonesa, brings up the rear of the procession.

The bust of San Fermin in the procession is a wooden, late 15th century carving, which was plated in silver in 1687. There is a reliquary on his chest, also of silver. The sculpture is seated on a rich silver worked pedestal dating back to 1746.

With regard to the origins of this religious act, it is known that the procession in honor of St Fermin was already being held in 1386 given the fact that this was when King Charles II of Navarre recovered the Saint’s reliquary from Amiens and placed it in the church of San Lorenzo. However, the worship of the Saint is documented as far back as the 12th century, when Pedro de Artaxona was bishop of Pamplona.

After a two hour procession through the streets the city politicians and civil servants once more head back to the cathedral to separate from the ecclesiastical party and return to the Town Hall. Thus ends the procession for another year.

As mentioned in the previous blog, there were marching bands everywhere. The club members Peñas would stop and a crowd would gather and all would dance and yell. There were many drums, flutes and horns contributing. Club Members, young and old, would follow along in support of their friends. It is such a great tradition. My cute fence friend was a member of one of these clubs. These clubs have been gradually founded throughout the history of the San Fermin Festival for the purpose of providing a basic structure for its members during these wild days of the fiesta. Once founded, they have gradually extended their activities to include other events throughout the year, mainly gastronomic and sport ones, but without ever forgetting that their basic and most important reason for existing is, to celebrate the San Fermin Fiesta together. There are sixteen “Peñas” (which admit a limited number of members) in Pamplona. They each have their own clubhouse and exist throughout the year, mainly for the purpose of celebrating meals together. They make up a federation and publish a magazine. They also have an internet site about the peñas, where you can find a lot of information about what do they do not only during the San Fermin festival, but also the rest of the year. The oldest one dates from 1903 – “La Unica” and since, the others were gradually formed throughout the following decades. Originally, they were men-only clubs, but now both sexes are members in almost all of them.

We had a big night ahead of us so we went back to our room for a shower and siesta.

The evening brought on the cultural tradition of the bull fights. We knew it was going to be brutal as one would guess but we try not to judge other cultures’ traditions. Rather we observe and try to fully understand their meaning and value to the people who practice them. So we attended out first bull fights….

The corrida or bullfight during San Fermin is very different to bullfights in any other big bullring in Spain or anywhere else. First of all, it’s organized by a “Meca” (Old-Folks Home) and the profits go towards the upkeep of this charitable institution. This philanthropic end makes it somewhat easier to pay the prices (and watch bulls get killed). Additionally, the bullfight is a continuation of the pandemonium which is going on in the street during the festival days. For many people, the start of the bullfights is the start of the day (the bullfights start at 6.30 in the afternoon!)

I had heard that there is another wine fight during the bullfight, so we came armed with another bottle of cheap Sangria to throw on our neighbors but Wayne had purchased really good seats in the more respectable section of the ring where the people come for the true history and culture of the event and are less inclined to be crazy. The wine throwers were all in the upper cheap seats. (Fun fact – Sangria tends to be the most popular drink, which, funny enough, is hardly ever drunk in Pamplona during the rest of the year. Another favorite drink, Kalimotxo, is equal amounts of coke and red wine! Ya, its not great, but actually its not as bad as you would think. ) Our seats were in the shade and we were pretty much packed in tight and getting very friendly with our neighbors. It was pretty mellow all around us though with middle aged and older men & women and some fathers with just their sons. On the other side of the bullring, those that sat in the sun sat among the peñas. There was partying going on over on that side. Apparently, we sat where the real fans tend to sit, as far away as possible from the “frivolous attitudes” of the “Peñas” who party, throw wine, flour and food and don’t really pay attention to what is going on in the bullring.

A normal bullfight is divided into three parts or “tercios” – first is the “Varas” – where a cape is used to examine the qualities of the bull – second – the “Banderillas” – where the two assistants of the bullfighter attempt to place some darts on the bull’s back. The final part is the fight to the death of the bull. In addition, there are two “suertes” – this is the cape work from the bullfighter using two distinct capes – one with a wooden stick as a bar on the cape.

The first “tercio” takes place as soon as the bull is released into the ring. The “peones” tempt the bull with their capes so that the quality of the bull charges can be appreciated. They will lead him over different sections of the ring so that his reactions can be carefully noted by the bull-fighter.

Then the “Picador” appears with his massive horse with a lance. This was frightening to watch. The bull would charge the horse and attempt to gore it. Luckily, the horses are trained for this and have heavy reinforced protective gear on to prevent injury. The bulls can actually lift the horses with their horns and the horse patiently waits for his Picador to guide him. At the right time, the Picador will pierce the back of the bull with his steel lance to weaken it and to tame some of his fierce energy. This is known as making a “puya” and is not popular with the crowd as they don’t want the animal to be made too weak. On the other hand, the bull-fighter does want him to be weakened. The bull-fighter then plays with the bull with a cape to learn more about the way it charges and turns.

The second “tercio” begins when the “banderilleros” take up their running position with a dart in each hand and they must run at the bull and stick these large darts, with a small steel hook at the end, into the back of the bull. There are usually three of these men who act in quick succession making a total of six darts in all.

The third “tercio” is when the bull-fighter uses his red and yellow cape held by a wooden sword. He carries out several different movements where he tries to dominate the bull. When the bull is sufficiently tired, he changes the wooden sword for a steel one and with this sword he will give the final “estocada” where he must bury the sword in a small area of the animal’s back to kill him.

At least that is how it is supposed to go… one bullfighter had a hard time with 2 kills and was really boohooed and shamed. Serious disgrace in a society that highly values honor. It may seem odd, but the serious people in the crowd really respect the bulls. The stronger and more fight they have the more respect they received. The cheering crowd, music playing, party atmosphere while blood sport played out in the ring below was a little like the ancient Roman Colosseum must have been back in the day. One matador lost his cape to a bull and was booed for lack of skill. Another matador was injured in the hand due to poor form and received zero sympathy. There were plaques you could buy in the surrounding stores honoring various exceptional fighting bulls going back to the late 1800’s.

I thought it might be too much for me to watch them kill the bulls. It was sad, (but mostly the nurse in me was fascinated at the physical symptoms that the bull was exhibiting prior to dying- morbid, I know). Wayne says, that if he were a bull, he would rather fight to the death with honor like that than be led blindly to slaughter which holds no glory.

Anyway, once the bull is dead, the president of the arena decides if he will concede any award to the bull-fighter. If he has done everything well, the public acclaim him. If the bull-fighter has been bad, the crowd will boo and hiss and the luckless bull-fighter will have to wait for another better day.

When the last bull has been killed and dragged from the ring, the “Peñas” and a large part of the crowd pile down into the ring and gather in disordered groups under the different banners ready to flow out through the main gate behind their raucous brass bands and the party continues. We followed some peñas out of the bullring, walked around for a bit, drank a wine and coke and watched the spectacular fireworks show before heading back to our room to crash … what an incredible day!