When the minuscule matadors materialized, they were all dressed in perfectly tailored outfits that any professional would don with pride. After taking an introductory bow, they assembled along the wall of the ring to await their turn facing the ferocious toro that would soon burst upon the field. When the bull was loosed, careful observation told me that it outweighed the heaviest matador by about five to one; the tallest mini-matador only reached the bull’s shoulder. The one safety factor in the coming melee were the ever-present clowns, always cavorting on the periphery but obviously watchful of the little matadors.

As the bull capered around the ring, chasing the clowns or being chased by the clowns, there was more of a sense of play than the stark aggression displayed by 1,200 pounds of pissed-off steer. The horns were shortened nubs wrapped with leather - at least no small folks would get shafted.

With a flourish of their hat, the mini-matadors came forward, one at a time, to engage the bull, each brandishing a cape and sword. Since the bull had obviously played the game before, it did not take much to get this teenage toro to charge right at the provocative capes. All the little guys had their own style and were quite accomplished at avoiding bodily harm. Several would go down on one knee, which made them really small, and allow the bull to come within inches of their crouched form. A couple were less skilled and ended up sprawled on the hard-packed dirt. When a matador went down, he would immediately spring to his feet, feign severe damage to his private parts and then taunt the bull with a flutter of the cape. There were five bull fighters in all and they had the crowd in a constant state of oohs, ahhs and laughter. After they all had their brush with death in the dust of the bull ring, the clowns herded the panting yearling off the field and the matadors disappeared for a costume change.

They returned to the arena attired as caballeros, each with a length of rope in hand. My first thought was that they’d be doing rope tricks, but just then eight ponies loped onto the field and began a counterclockwise circuit of the arena. I knew that if these guys tried to lasso anything bigger than a house cat, they’d be going for a ride in the dirt, but I guess that was the general idea. A couple of the mini-vaqueros managed to drop a loop over the neck of a running pony and were immediately skittering across the dirt on their rumps. The rope and the weight of the sliding dwarf didn’t seem to significantly slow the ponies. In between and during the animal acts, the clowns and caballeros were in a constant state of slapstick with each other; pushing, chasing and tumbling. They managed to keep it up for two hours without any broken bones or visible blood - definitely skilled show people.

The tickets to this thoroughly entertaining event were a bargain at $150 pesos each. So when these little people return to Mazatlan, indulge yourself...it’s worth both the time and money.

Bodie Kellogg lives full-time in Mazatlan and is currently conducting a city-wide search for the best taco in town. Snickers the wonder dog is assisting this pursuit and can be seen right on his heels as he lurks among the street carts and taco stands of Centro and the ethnic eateries of the Zone. Comments, tips? Send to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .