Once Upon a Cockfight

Last night, I got to go to a cockfight. What? What? Cockfights actually do exist in Mexico?!?! Yes, they do! They are also few and far between, and tickets cost an arm and a leg. So how did I go to a cockfight?

Well, apparently my boyfriend's mom works at a school for rich people, and one of the kids she teaches has parents who had complementary tickets for the cockfight at the state fair. And they didn't want to go. Obviously, if you don't want to go to a cockfight, you give the tickets to your 8-year-old's teacher.

Except she didn't really want to go either, but was told the tickets were worth 500 pesos (about $40) each. As they say here, "Hay que aprovecharselos." You have to take advantage of them. I was bored to tears my one time at the Montreal casino, so not so down with the gambling, but definitely down for this highly cultural (or at least exotic) experience.

When a group of 5 of us got to the little arena where the cockfight/concert after the cockfight was being held, we found out that the tickets were actually going for 750 pesos (about $60) each, and therefore we would not be buying any extra tickets. Elected to enter the ring were myself and my boyfriend's 85-year-old grandmother. So in we went. Me and grandma.

I think cockfighting would be a lot more interesting if it were just fight after fight after fight. At least at this cockfight, there was a new fight every 20 minutes or so. And to fill all that extra time between fights (cos a fight really only lasted a couple of minutes) there were raffles and bingo. Lots of raffles. Lots of bingo. Lots of noise.

But the fights! (Few and far between as they were.) First of all, I couldn't tell the difference between the roosters except for the red or green piece of tape wrapped around the little knife tied to its ankle. And yes, the roosters are equipped with weapons, to make sure the death goes that much quicker. The fight goes on until one of the roosters is dead, basically.

During the 20 minutes preceeding a fight, aside from the raffles and bingo, people are placing bets on which rooster is going to win. I guess 50 / 50 odds are as good as you're gonna get anywhere, so the gambling seemed to be quite fierce. Men and women in suits and quasi suits roved around the central ring of dirt, collecting money and giving out markers.

Then the rooster owners or trainers or whatever they are let the roosters smell each other. They hold them in the air facing each other before the fight, before they walk the roosters over to opposite sides of the ring.


Then the roosters fight.

Then one (or both) of the roosters die. Regardless of the death count, a winner is declared.

So, you know, once is kind of interesting. Or, at least, different.

This went on for THREE HOURS.

Then there was a concert with Ana Gabriel, and apparently myself and my boyfriend's grandmother were the only ones who had no idea who she was, since the little auditorium suddenly transformed into everyone else's personal shower and/or kareoke machine.

In short, a Mexican Celine Dion.
We left, half deaf, after three songs.