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A table was setup just outside the pen serving cold beer, guarro shots, and chunks of barbecued beef.īefore reaching the gate though, I was intercepted by a smiling and hand-shaking Don Trino. Perched atop the fence were at least two dozen spectators. A six foot tall fence encircled the arena, which was about 60 feet by 40 feet in size. They were already covered in dust and sweat, laughing and twirling lassos. In the adjacent pen, a group of about twenty men and a couple of women knocked back beers and shots of guarro. They eyed me with suspicion, apparently anticipating the battle that awaited each of them. Walking along the aging wooden fencing, I observed two dozen young bulls crowded into the corner of a large holding pen. After being dropped off at the restaurant, I quickly made my way back to the corral where the melee was already underway. Arriving at 8:30 in the morning, I knew I was late to the party. I made sure I was off work, had arranged transportation, and that my camera batteries were charged and ready. So, as this year’s ‘castration party’ drew near, I made my plans as shrewdly as I could to ensure my ability to attend. I was tormented with regret for having slept through such an apparently chaotic, brutal, and bizarre event, such as was described to me.
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And after that day’s festivities were coming to a close and friends began to return to Carate from Bijagual, they imparted upon me tales I thought unbelievable tales of men roping and wrestling rampaging bulls, the savaging of one such hombre by a wild-eyed bull, and the graphic descriptions of the castration process that the animals endured. You see, the ‘castration party,’ as gringos like to refer to it, begins at 7:00 in the morning. While living in Carate last year, I actually missed my ride to the event because I was too hung over from the previous night’s festivities. Coinciding with the birthday of Don Trino’s son, this event is the annual castrating of the bulls. The same, however, cannot be said for one Bijagual party that occurs but once a year. These events go late into the night, and almost always go on without incident. Beer and cacique guarro (Costa Rican-made sugar cane liquor) flow freely while partiers couple up to dance the merengue, salsa, and bachata. The Bijagual restaurant also serves as a venue for the occasional dance party, events that draw attendees from all the nearby villages. He can always be found hanging in the restaurant, an open-air pavilion located just adjacent to the road. Instead of floral patterns, his shirts feature images of cowboys roping steers, fisherman battling marlin, or scenes of Daffy Duck and Goofy sipping cocktails on a beach. A towering and elderly Tico, he is bespectacled and always clad in a Hawaiian style button down. Bijagual is owned by the always pleasant Don Trino. Both a tourist destination, offering guest cabins, a restaurant, and horseback riding, Bijagual is also a functioning cattle farm. Located along the road from Puerto Jimenez to Carate is the sprawling Finca Bijagual (pronounced Bee-Ha-Gwahl).