Who Needs Clocks on the Isle of Koh Samui

The days tend to blend in delicious routine on Koh Samui but today will be different; we are going to “The Bullfight”. The cook at our restaurant had told us about this special event and had said, “everyone will go there on that day.” When we tried to find out what time it would start we got only a puzzled look for an answer. When we pressed, she said, “when you see the people walking along the road, then you will know to go with them.”

It had taken my Australian friends and I seven days to finally break out of our daily routine and take a walking trip around the entire island in one long day. The normal lazy routine is to wake up on the beach, go for breakfast, walk down the beach, go for lunch, siesta, play volleyball, swim, go for supper, talk all evening and then go to bed on the beach. And who needs a clock for that?

Bad Western habits are hard to break however, and we spent the morning of the big day looking at our watches and watching the traffic on the island-circling road. By late morning there were more walkers and bicycles on the road than usual, so we decided to forgo our siesta and join the crowds right after lunch.

We joined in the festive mood of our fellow walkers and had great fun throwing balls with the children, and laughing and skipping with them along the way. That set up some of those wonderful cross-language “conversations” with the kids and even with some of their parents.

Being “part of the family” meant that we no longer had to worry about knowing where the event would take place. When we all get there we will be there. “There” was a large grassy opening in the palm trees with several large buildings around the edges. It seemed like half the population of the island must be there.

Here and there, wisps of charcoal smoke and fragrant smells told of the presence of vendors of spicy kebobs on little slivers of bamboo, and rice in paper cones. The fragrant smells made me wish that we had saved our appetites for the good things that were available here.

There were several knots of people, each standing around large water buffalo, which we assumed were to be contestants. There was a small circular coral surrounded by a very light bamboo fence right in the center of the clearing. Kids were playing and people were talking and NOTHING was happening.

The crowd kept growing until we were sure that the entire population of the island must be in the clearing. Then we noticed that a curtain had been strung on a wire across the center of the coral. There was no real sign of impending action, but bit-by-bit the interest level seemed to be rising.

Finally two of the buffaloes and their handlers entered opposite ends of the small coral and took positions on either side of the curtain where they each began ritual ceremonies. These pampered animals were getting special foods and having potions and ointments rubbed on their hides, and pujah’s or prayers were said over them. One of the handlers was even applying a small sheet of gold leaf on his animal’s horn.

Garlands made from fresh picked flowers strung on thread festooned the backs of the bulls and several people draped flowers and even strings of paper money across their horns. I noticed that there was quite a bit of money changing hands as bets were placed on each one’s favorite animal’s anticipated success.

I was struck by just how flimsy the fence around the coral was; it was just bamboo poles pounded into the ground with lighter bamboo rails simply tied to the poles with woven reed ropes. There were hundreds of men, women and children packed close around this light fence, including my friends and me. Being taller than practically everyone gave us a viewing advantage.

Now I have watched these placid animals throughout Asia for months and I am wondering more about how they will get them to fight than how safe we all are at ringside. Still, I am just a bit uneasy as the intensity of the handlers rises and the crowd gets noisier and two men get ready to yank open the curtain between the beasts. I don’t know what is coming, but my pulse is beginning to race as I get caught up in the rising excitement around me.

Zzziiinnnngg! The screen flies open, and the handlers scream and slap their animals and the audience erupts in cheers. The two bulls snort and paw the earth for what seems like minutes before one bull, muscles straining, charges head down into the other. The audience roars at this action, and the bulls stand straining and grunting against each other. And there they stand.

Now I feel a bit better about the flimsy fence and I think that these people probably have been doing this for hundreds of years and they know how the animals will react. One of the bulls jerks his head just a few inches and his horn causes the other to bellow and retaliate…and again they stand. The handlers are screaming and exhorting their beasts with no effect. Minutes seem to pass between thrusts but each move by these powerful animals takes its toll.

One bull’s thrust puts a horn into the opposing bull’s eye socket causing the eye to bulge out grotesquely, and they stand that way for what seems like minutes. I don’t feel too good and I’m not sure how much of this I want to watch when I hear an unearthly screaming bellow, and one two thousand pound bull leaps higher in the air than I would imagine is possible. In the blink of an eye, one turns to run with the other charging after, and all I sense is one huge scream from hundreds of people.

It wasn’t until later that I realized that early on I had made a mental note about where I would go if things got ugly, and boy were things ugly now! I shouted “FOLLOW ME” and covered fifty yards and a flight of stairs to the high veranda of a building in a world record half a second. My two friends were not too far behind me and we stood together gasping in the steamy air.

I could hear the thudding hooves and bellows of the buffalo bulls, and I was almost afraid to turn around to view the scene below. With hundreds of people desperately fleeing in every direction, many were knocked down and were struggling to get up and running again.

The clearing was a mess, with the vendors charcoal pots and food, pieces of clothing and crushed woven baskets and their contents scattered everywhere. The useless bamboo fence was nothing but shattered pole tops and splintered rails. I could hear kids wailing and even some adults crying.

Fortunately the bull’s only interest had been in the chase, and though they thundered across the grounds twice before crashing off through the trees, I saw no one remaining on the ground with serious injury. I gave a silent prayer of thanks for my safety and for that of the crowd and then sat down hard, just before my shaking knees sat me down.

I think that tomorrow we will be perfectly happy to return to our sleepy tropical island routine.