Sheep Fighting and a Birthday Party

After reading the title of this post you probably assume that I am going to write about two separate occurrences. Only in Ecuador do birthday parties include a sheep fight amid the festivities.

After a long week of working out kinks in my schedule and trying to persuade officials at my school what my actual job was I was ready for so rest and relaxation. This came in the form of a birthday party that a fellow volunteer and I were invited to. The Ministry of Education English Coordinator had invited us to celebrate her birthday in a near a small town named Pujilí about 45 minutes from my house. The birthday party began at 11:00 am in the city at a Catholic Mass in honor of her deceased parents. At the conclusion of the Mass the party moved to the cemetery to pay respects to her parents. Nothing says birthday fun quite like visiting a cemetery.

Up until this point my friend and I had a tough time actually finding the birthday girl. We walked from the church to the cemetery unaccompanied. Gringos stand out in any crowd here but on this day we got more than our share of stares. Dressed up white people walking from a church to a cemetery in front a slow moving procession tends to catch the Ecuadorian eye. Awkward moments abound here.

When we finally met up with the coordinator and her family outside the cemetery we were warmly greeted. I can not say enough about how genuinely nice, caring and community-oriented the people of Ecuador are. After all the introductions were made and tons of cheeks kissed we all hopped in cars and headed to a hostería where the party would continue. The location of the hostería was perfect. We were high in the Andes surrounding by lush green mountains. The site had a restaurant, spa, large gathering room and two pools. The skies were clear and promised good weather throughout the day.

Shortly after arriving lunch was served. We ate Chugchucaras, the famous plate from Latacunga. It consists of fried everything. Empanadas, pork, popcorn, bananas, and moté are on the plate and are all fried. Happy birthday was sung, the cake was cut and stomachs were filled. During lunch I had a good conversation with the brother of the birthday girl who lives in Quito. We chatted about where I was from and what I was doing. He was obviously an educated man and I appreciated the conversation. He even spoke broken English. By the end of the party he and his wife invited me and a fellow volunteer to come to their house in the coming months for lunch.

At the conclusion of lunch we were all escorted outside for “popular Ecuadorian games”. The first was a potato sack race. The man announcing the competitors was really hamming it up. My introduction to the field was something like, “Hailing all the way from the great state of Texas…. the amazing, the fantastic...TOOOD!” My name is very difficult to pronounce in Spanish. Even my debit card has my name spelled at “Tood”. We lined up and on the count of “Prepararse, Listo, Bueno” and we were off. After a mad dash I prevailed as the champion. I was given a small notebook and pen as my prize. Both will come in very handy because I am always in need of both.

We played a few other games but I did not have the same luck in these endeavors. My favorite was the “Baile Del Tomate”. This is a game where two partners dance while holding a tomato between their heads. My friend and I were coaxed into making fools out of ourselves. We practiced with the tomato wedged between our foreheads. When the time came to start we lasted a good 8 seconds and we were happy to have a seat. We also competed in a three legged race. We crossed the finish line close to dead last. Dancing began shortly after the games ended and prizes were handed out. I chose to rest and take in the moment. While watching the many couples that I had only recently met dance their hearts out I had a moment to reflect. I was out in a beautiful green field surrounded by lush mountains celebrating a birthday in a strange but fun fashion in a foreign country. I would have never imagined myself in that position two years ago. What a great opportunity I have to be in such a place with such great people. Even though I had not met 95% of the people before the party, I was already accepted and cared for by the majority of those at the celebration. True moment of bliss.

Now to get away from the sappy stuff and move to me fighting a sheep…

After the dance we were all ushered to a large pen that doubled as a volleyball court. As usual, I had no idea what was about to happen. The women were arranged and began walking into the large pen and parading around in a circle. Apparently this is the same a bullfight when the beauty queen of the city walks around the arena before the bull is brought in. A medium sized sheep lay in waiting. After the women scampered out the “bull” fighters descended into the pen. These were just men from the party that wanted to show their machismo side. Soon 10 men entered the pen and were being chased and hit by the sheep in a similar fashion as they would in a bull fight. The sheep behaved almost identically as a bull would. He would walk backward, scrape his feet and then charge. I got the nerve to jump into the fight. That round was a bit scary but mainly just fun. We all had some good laughs and the women cheered us on. Eventually the sheep tired and we all sat down. I had a great time “sheep fighting” and the Ecuadorians were happy to see my willingness to participate. I thought that was the end of it.

I was then made aware that the main event was about to commence. The bigger male sheep was about to be brought into the pen. I could tell this was a bit more serious by the anticipation that the small crowd seemed to have. Only two men went into the pen with their capes. This sheep meant business. I watched as the men did a pass or two before being chased out of the pen by the agitated sheep. A small group of women told me I should try. With much reluctance I worked up the nerve to enter the pen alone. My desire to be the center of attention got the best of me once again.

My heart was beating hard enough I could hear it. I grabbed a cape and prepared myself for death by sheep. The next 30 seconds are a blur but basically I practiced the same form that I had witnessed from the other men using. The sheep pawed the ground, backed up ten feet or so and then ran full speed at me. At the last second I stepped to the side as I had seen the others do and let the sheep slam head first into the cape narrowly missing my leg. As soon as I saw the sheep realize he had missed me I took off in a dead sprint to the wall with the sheep in hot pursuit. I am happy to say that I made it out unscathed other than wanting to wet my pants. I must say I think I heard more laughter during my Gringo sheep fighting experience than cheers but I will take what I get.

After the sheep fight, we went back inside and listened to a live performance by two local artists. They sang songs about Pujilí with pride and much to the delight of the audience. We then began to dance. Dancing here is much different that I am accustomed to. The DJ plays music non-stop and there are no apparent breaks. At the end of the hour and a half long session everyone was pouring sweat. So attractive. The CJ even played several classic American songs and I was expected to know the dances. I am unaware of the dance that accompanies “Rock Around the Clock” so I improvised with The Twist.

The party concluded around 8 pm after a mandatory firework show. Before I left I gave the mandatory kisses on the cheek to the women and a hearty handshake/hug to the men as is customary here. I promised several that I would stay in contact and then got into the car with a couple that offered to drive me the 45 min back to my house so I could avoid the bus at night. We chatted the whole way home. On that note, my Spanish has improved so much during my short time here. I am impressed with the brain’s ability to change and adapt so quickly.

All in all the party was great. I have never been to a birthday party that lasted nearly 10 hours and wasn’t sure what to expect. I certainly didn’t think that I would earn my stripes as a sheep fighter but I did. This was yet another wonderful experience to log into my memories of this great country.

Ecuador, you never know what to expect.