When it rains, fish will appear, Andalucia part 21 Spanish machos kill wild boar with their hands

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie

Machoship is a challenge that manifests its presence in a stimulating way. Here it is not played, it is a kind of innocent machoship like Joey displayed in "Friends". To pass in an uncomplicated way through life and take your place between the friends, because that is your place and no one should dispute that. your appearance also ensures that nobody will dispute it. In Andalucia every 10th man is Macho to very macho. (source: "the world statistical handbook of the Macho" by Dr San Daniel Ph.D, old macho) "

 

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Slowly but surely, our region is changing.

We were at the Shandybar and enjoyed the early morning sun. "You see them more and more often," Domingo thought, taking a sip of his barecha, pointing to the other side of the street where a few people walked around very unspanish in appearance and atire. "They are not from here," Kiko thought as he took a gulp and immediately said "archg" while rubbing his gullet. I knew what happened to him, the first barecha, a local drink, always found its way burning down. The second, one would numb all your senses and a warming glow would manifest itself where your stomach was. After that you can enjoy chatting with your friends, which we were doing on that Sunday morning.

Our table was placed outside on the terrace overlooking a bar that had been taken over by foreigners. "They also put milk in their tea," Domingo said. "That is not normal, that is for children, a man drinks tea or milk and the milk just from the goat's udder, when it is still foaming. None of that mixing of tea with milk. " Do not worry, Domi, I said. They are English, they can not help it, that is what they are accustomed to. "They will never be one of us," Kiko began, "they wear shorts and wear socks in their sandals." 'Oh,' I began, 'they've come here for the weather and the quality of life. You can not blame them, they come from a terrible country where it only rains. Here they live like a king and as a "pensionista" they can hardly get by in their own country. "

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I had to admit that they did stick out, ginger hair, dressed unspanish and with weird habits. "

"Do you know what a glass of wine costs there, for example," I asked, "and I do not mean good wine but" corriente ", table wine? In a small glass, not a glass like we drink here but let's say half a glass of ours. Three pounds, "I continued," give or take 4 euros. A good glass of wine here is 80 cents and a three-course menu, including coffee and wine and your dessert here will set you back 9 euros and then it is freshly prepared. That is very different there, really considerably more expensive when you're out with your señora than you better have 100 euros on you, otherwise you'll be shamed. ' "Really", my both barecha drinking mates said

"You know," I said, "you have to be glad that those people come here, they spend their entire pension here, every month again, that does not look like much, but it's a great injection for our region. If a jubilado (pensioner) spends only 600 euros per month on gasoline, food, drinks and so on, it does not seem worth mentioning. Suppose, however, that there are 100 pensionistas, then you usually talk about 50 couples, who then spend 60,000 euros per month here in the valley. We do not have to do anything in return for it. They do not occupy a job, they just bring in, you can not have it any better. So what if they look weird and do not learn our language. They are bringing great prosperity to this region. '

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The boars cause mishap

"Otra ronda," Domingo shouted, and the girl brought the three glasses of poison, "that's 2.40," she said. 'Look in my country that would have been 6 euros,' I laughed. "We have to be careful with the barecha's," Domi said, "the hand must be quick and sure to strike." "Which hand must be quick and why," I asked? "Well, of course, to kill," Kiko replied, for Domi who was just taking a sip. " Don't you have any boar trouble, "he wanted to know. "I happened to see 6 yesterday," I informed him, "on my land yesterday, in the evening. I stood dead still and they walked on.

But a few months ago, a group of about 40 boar charged down the mountain and my vegetable garden was overrun in 5 minutes. ' "And," Domi said, looking up at me meaningfully, "we are going to do something about that." "You're going to shoot boar," I asked? "No, we finish them by hand," Kiko said.

I had heard about that but I had never experienced it before. Now it was my turn to say "really". "We're going with five of us, so we want to score five piggies. We've already lured them. " "Diesel," I asked? "Yes," Domi nodded as Kiko said, "we have no more secrets for you in this village." Boars have an enormously developed scent ability, they smell a buried truffle from afar. Diesel has a sweet odor and boar love that.

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'You got anything planned tonight, ' the men wanted to know? "Not really," I replied. 'Then you can give us cover. You can run between us and if one of us stumbles and is in danger, you will take the boar out before the fallen friend is pierced by the tusks. Man, I've seen it once, they'l chop you up so badly, your mum won't recognize you. "

"Vale," I said, Okay, and in my heart of hearts I hoped I would just have to run a bit and not anything more. 'I hope you know what you are doing,' I began, 'boars are dangerous, they can trample you and weigh 100 kilos or more.' "Yes, that's why we are going with five," Domingo said. "Are you going to drink tea with milk or will you come with us?" "I'll come along, of course," I said, and I felt the Macho button in me turn to the on position

At 11 o'clock we met again, the darkness had already fallen and a clear moon shone as you only see it here, the light lit the ground over which we walked cautiously. Alfonso had brought his two dogs. They had not eaten for two days. 'To make them eager,' Alfonso had entrusted me.

'Vale,' Okay said Ezechiel who was the most experienced of the group and he raised his hand to indicate that we had to stop. 'We will form a circle,' he said, Daniel stays with me, we go each in opposite direction in two groups. Each group takes 1 dog. If we meet a bunch of boar, then we let them pass, until the last ones passes, we will pick those out. If you take a middle or the first one, the whole group will turn on us and we will be crushed. "Who does not understand that?"

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'If we meet again, we do the same but in a larger circle. That's how they come to us without them knowing it. When the last swine are in sight, the dogs go off to distract the group and we each kill a boar. " 'Do we stab them,' I wanted to know? "Before you are there to stab him you are already dead. His heart is at the bottom. No, you jump on him from behind and cut the carotid artery with a fierce stroke. Then it will bleed to death in a few minutes. " I sincerely hoped no one would stumble and decided that I'd never go with these boys again.

"Pssst, I can hear them," Ezechiel whispered. We waited in silent anticipation. The other group had now made a circular movement and you suddenly felt the unrest in the group of boar. They had heard something. You could now smell them clearly, we were down wind

They got going, they had smelled or heard the other men behind them. They first started walking and soon that changed, and a thunderous train of beast came rushing down the hill to us. We were now standing in the passing flank side. "Yes," Ezechiel shouted and let go of the dog. The other group was now almost on to the boar who stood still, frozen for a second, amazed and prepared to rip the dogs open. The dogs danced around the boar and snapped at their ears.

Ezekiel, with me in his wake, ran with a drawn knife, running to the back of the boar and he jumped on the boar, and before the brute knew what had happened, a quick flash of steel cut through his lifeline. The blood sprayed in all directions. The last boar now stood and turned around, the blood odor with the wind going on had made them wilder than wild. The dogs missed a whopper who did not care about them and who rushed to Ezekiel and... he had not seen him.

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I had nothing in my hands, I had lost my knife,I had dropped it somewhere, but I did not want my friend to be trampled on or chopped to bits. I stumbled, and the swine went right past me, he forgot the whole Ezekiel as he turned to me, and while I scrambled up he gave me a blast attacking my right leg. I flew away, literally, and although I had no pain in my right leg I could no longer use it.

His tusk grazed my leg. I became primal, it was the boar or me. I grabbed a stone and when he came at me again I hit him with all the force on the side of his head, face area let's say. Now my coat and sleeve were torn opened and I felt my arm getting wet and warm. When he came back to me, I let myself fall on him and grabbed his ears with all my strength, now he dragged me along and hit me from right to left against the ground.

If I let go of his ears, then I'd be dead, I knew that for sure. The horrid beast was round in shape and I was  flung to all sides. We were alone in the world and I just wanted to kill the boar but I did not know how. All of a sudden the dogs appeared who bit his tail and his trotters, the boar stopped. Then there was Alfonso, his knife flashed, passed my right hand and buried itself in the carotid artery.

'That was the last one, he laughed.' They had to release my fingers from the ears of the now fallen animal. My fingers were cramped "locked" around he ears. "Man that was Macho," said Alfonso, "when the boar wanted to go for Eze, San Daniel tried to kick him over. I will call my son for the 4x4 then we will load them in and then bone them out tomorrow, "he concluded.

Slowly I came back to my senses and grinned. 'This is how legends are born,' I thought, and I feared the visit that would inevitably follow for stitches from the medical post  by the male nurse who did so without sedation.

I realized afterwards that fear is an outdated emotion, just like the pain you start to feel after half an hour when a boar wants to take you out. The next day after 7 stitches and with a barecha in the hand, which did not do feel very well, we were still discussing the hunt. "Gosh man that was a good  laugh," Domi said. 'Yes,' I replied boldly, 'good fun,' but I thought, 'it's just depends on what you call laughter.'

also read part 22

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17/01/2019 20:03

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