And when
I wasn’t looking at a bull-shaped sign, I was looking at a decal
of the bull pasted onto the bumper of the car in front of me.
I became
obsessed. Not just with the bull, but with the whole country. I dreaded
leaving, and every time I laid eyes on another bull, I thought, "I'll
always remember this."
I then remembered
that I have a really bad memory and I decided that I needed a bull decal
of my own to slap on my car back home.
I looked
but didn't find a decal. Then, I came across a brochure about the Osborne
sherry distillery, and there, in a photo of the sherry label, was the
bull. In an instant, I understood—the bull was an advertisement
for an alcoholic beverage. I laughed out loud.
The decals
on the cars, I figured, were the Spanish version of the American “Bad
Boy” decal; something displayed by teenagers trying to be cool.
That didn't make me want the decal any less, though, and now I had a
plan. I would tour the distillery and hit the gift shop. Success was
assured.
Bill and
I went to Jerez de la Frontera, the heart of what is known as the Sherry
Triangle. The Sherry Triangle is an area rife with distilleries, which
are called bodegas.
We couldn't
find the Osborne bodega, but we had driven almost an hour to get there
so we toured the Tio Pepe bodega instead. It was highly organized; tickets
were purchased, a waiting room was utilized, and when a critical mass
of English-speaking bodies had been attained, we were guided into a
golf cart train and driven about the property.
The guide
made all the expected jokes about drinking and angry wives while we
laughed and commented on the excellence of his English. Finally, we
came to the highlight of the tour; there, on the dirt floor of a room
stacked with kegs of aging wine was a glass of sherry with a tiny ladder
leaning against it.
Every few
moments, a mouse would dart across the floor in close, or not so close,
proximity to the glass. The guide explained that, at night, the mice
would actuallly climb the ladder and drink the sherry.
The mice
seemed pretty oblivious to the offering, however, and in the distillery's
gift shop, on a postcard showing a mouse actually poised at the top
of the ladder to drink, the mouse looks kind of scared. I have a feeling
the mouse didn’t climb that ladder of its own free will.
At the end
of the tour, we were herded into a warehouse in which a white tent had
been erected. It was one of those huge tents that you rent for a wedding
and a number of tables had been set underneath.
We sat and
were served two half-bottles of different sherries and a glass of yet
another kind. They gave us Goldfish crackers, too. I was happy; it was
the first time in Spain that someone had offered me food that wasn't
part of a dead pig, but I still hadn't gotten my decal, so we left Jerez
under a cloud.
On the highway
back to Seville, a sign displayed a familiar name. I grabbed the Osborne
brochure and sure enough, what I’d thought was the distillery’s
street name was the name of its town. Screeching at Bill to get off
the highway, we hurtled onto the exit ramp with all the control of the
can in a game of kick the can.
But we were
too late. The distillery had closed.
We had been
drinking with the vermin at Tio Pepe while our objective was just over
the hill. My symbol of Spain would live only in my head, not on my bumper.
I gave up
on getting my decal. My memories of Spain would have to survive without
the aid of a prop.
I tried
to buy a sticker online. A search on Osborne Bull revealed that it wasn't
just my own personal symbol of Spain. It was everybody's personal symbol
of Spain, even Spanish people's.
Originally,
the Osborne bull was a regular advertisement, complete with graphics,
slogans, and photos of enticing beverages.
Then in
the ‘80s, billboards were banned in an effort to beautify the
highways and increase the country's desirability as a tourist destination.
Osborne painted the billboards black but they were still billboards
and still subject to the law. So down they came.
But the
watchful black silhouette of the Osborne bull had become something more
than just an advertisement.
Spain is
a country of culturally discrete regions but the differences that are
celebrated by the inhabitants of the regions are in danger as the country
transforms itself into a modern nation. Cable television and good roads
tend to eliminate local customs and accents.
So the various
regions cling to local traditions to maintain their unique identities.
More than five languages are spoken, including a whistling language
on the Canary Islands that is similar to ancient African tongues and
each region has its own version of the bullfight, which is better than
all the other versions.
But no matter
how different the style of the bullfight, the symbol of the bull unites
the entire country. It represents the ancientness of the culture, the
common thread that binds the people, the power of tradition. So, the
Osborne bull is a physical reminder of all that.
The bull
could not come down. The people protested. Riots were rumored to have
broken out and in 1994, the Spanish Constitution declared the bull a
national landmark.
Osborne
replaced its wooden bulls with more durable iron ones. The company added
to its herd, and there are now more than one hundred bulls along Spain's
highways.
I scrutinized
each instance of the bull closely to see if it was like its brother
bulls in every aspect, and discovered that there were differences among
them—but only in the genitalia. Could it be the work of vandals
or was it a loving artist who imbued each bull with its own special
attributes?
As soon
as I'd given up, of course, in that Buddhist way that you only get what
you want by not wanting it anymore, I wandered into a souvenir shop
two blocks from my apartment in Seville and found the damn decal.
I bought
ten, despite the fact that I have only one car. The decals made their
way onto vehicles in several American states. My next objective is a
boat and then perhaps an RV.
And so the
thrall of El Toro de Osborne stretches across the sea.
Jay
Gitomer is the president of Jay
Gitomer Communications, a company that helps businesses communicate
more effectively in print and digital media. She is currently cruising
the Caribbean on her liveaboard trawler while she works up the nerve
for an Atlantic crossing.
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