On The Road-Eo

With an hour to kill before another overcrowded, sweaty bus ride to my next destination in Costa Rica, I decided to visit a tour guide friend I had met the day before in Bijagua to try to squeeze out some more information about the sabanero town. When I arrived, I was surprised to see him and a friend decked out in their cowboy-best—faded, tight jeans, loose-fitting button-down shirts, mango-sized belt buckles, and leather cowboy hats and boots. They informed me that they were getting ready for the bull-riding competition, as part of the festive weekend aimed to raise money for the local elementary school. His frighteningly calm friend was part of the valiant crew from Cañas that would sacrifice their bodies for those 10 seconds of bull-riding glory.

We headed off to the stadium to see the show, which allegedly started at 4:30pm, but actually began 3hr. later (typical tico time delay). In the meantime, Imperial-filled cowboys enjoyed the cheap, homemade food that five women had been preparing all day in the communal kitchen. After the sun went down, everyone streamed into the rickety stadium to cheer on the friendly boxing matches between the men from the town. Not knowing that I would see anything other than bucking bulls, I was delightfully surprised to witness baby cattle auctions, raffles, and numerous skillful horseback riders guide their high-kneed horses through an array obstacle.

The most striking part of the whole experience was a one-armed rider dressed in all-black. There was an event during the races when each rider had to trade horses with another rider while the horses were still moving. This man managed to grab the reins with his teeth while he used his single arm to boost himself off of his horse, and consequently onto the second horse on the side.

Although slightly disconcerting, the audience was brought to the floor in roaring laughter during the baby bull-catching event. About 10 bulls were released and, after the whistle blew, the sabeneros dispersed in a mayhem of lassos and leaps. The actual bull-riding only took about 10 seconds, but I learned the ever-valuable lesson of how to make the proper Costa Rican rodeo call, “Oiiii, oiiiii” which sounds strikingly (and strangely)like a drunk Miss Piggy.

If you do have an opportunity to make it to a rodeo, don’t worry too much if you happen to miss your bus, as you can always ask one of the hundred sabaneros to give you a ride, and it will surely be more exciting. Be careful though; not all sabaneros are necessarily trustworthy.

—Nadia Mohamedi