雷倒n多人的“斗牛”

beijing3939

　　Actually, that is probably a lie... it is better said that I was born an aficionado practico’s daughter.
　　
　　Loosely, that means my dad has had an odd hobby for an American, and has had it since before I was born.
　　
　　I have heard that he did set out to try to become one, but that road is tough and especially tough for a tall American. I have had the opportunity to talk to some of his Latin American bullfighting friends about him... they all tell me he is a good bullfighter, that they would have never thought that he would be as good as he is. I, frankly, know very little about what makes a good bullfighter. I can tell you that I know when someone is a bad bullfighter, as much as I know when a bull is a good bull... but if you pressed me to tell you what that is, I would have a hard time.
　　
　　As long as I can remember, bullfighting has been a part of my life, I was not offered a choice... bullfighting just was. We spent weekends when we lived in Spain with my father at some tientas (more on what that is later) or visiting Spanish bull ranches (the ones that raise fighting bulls). We did the same in Ecuador. I am not sure if we did in Colombia. The clip below, is just a part of my childhood picture.
　　
　　Generally, I consider this life I was given a blessing, and I include this experience in it. Only the times when people who loathe bullfighting have reared their ugly heads at me... have I had twinges of wishing I were not here... but those are fleeting thoughts and spit wipes off easily from ones shoes (yes, I was spit on because my father chooses to do this). I don’t take kindly to joking in this matter if you are not looking at me in the eyes, I tend to assume you plan to spit on me.
　　让人揪心的场面