One of Patricia’s titos (uncles) invited me to a cockfight. I know I shouldn’t have done it. It’s cruel and unnecessary. The fact that it was the December 24 didn’t win us any points with the aunties. Still, I had a morbid curiosity to satisfy, and they would hold the fight whether I was there or not. Right? I’m so going to PETA hell.
We drove to the edge of town and pulled up to the Caceres Sports Arena. As soon as you stepped out of the car, you could hear the yelling from inside. In we went, up rickety metal stairs, squeezing through yelling patrons, and finally making our way to some empty seats at the top, where I proceeded to sit on rooster droppings and bash my head on a low hanging metal rafter. Let the bloodletting being!
It basically went something like this: the roosters wearing sharp metal talons are brought out by their trainers. Another rooster is brought in to peck at them and make them mad. While this is going on, bets are being taken and the crowd is whipped into a frenzy. The roosters are let go and the fight goes on until one of the roosters is dead (or as good as dead). I thought the fights were short and not as gory as I expected. I then realized that the feathers of the roosters I had seen fight so far were red and, along with our high vantage point, masked the blood. It was then that I saw a long, bloody battle lost by a white rooster.