To prohibit or not to prohibit?

By Rosa Covarrubias

It is 4:30 in the afternoon at the Ciudad de los Deportes. On the closed Augusto Rodin, in the background you can hear "El Gato Montés", a pasodoble by Manuel Penella, in the distance, the pans and protests, the Monumental Plaza de Toros Mexico reopens its doors for the 78th anniversary. 

'A "fiesta" that is stained with blood', 'a barbarism', shouts of 'bulls yes, bullfighters no', say those against bullfighting, 'an art that few understand', respond those in favor, a metal fence separates them, to safeguard the safety of those attending the Plaza de Toros, while the collectives continue with the collection of signatures for the abolition of what they call a heinous and retrograde crime. 

I still remember my first approach to bullfighting, I was 7 or 8 years old when I saw a bullfight on television, it caught my attention, first, that portent of jet-colored animal, deep eyes and long horns that shone in the sunlight, then the suit of lights and the red cape, little or nothing I understood about it, except that I did not like to see the blood of the bull. On that occasion my father explained to me, in broad strokes, what happened to the bull after its death.