This article was written by Aedan Seaver, a journalism student at the University of Oregon program, as part of a study abroad program in Querétaro, Mexico. Our CEO recently met with the students and the MND editorial team reviewed and selected the top articles to publish.

An enormous, severed bull’s head loomed out of the semi-darkness, looking very much alive from its mount above Quique Bandin’s living room mantle. Posters of bullfighters filled the walls and chicken-shaped trophies sat proudly on the coffee table — reminders of a uniquely Mexican family history.

Bandin, whose father was a bullfighter and chicken breeder, has spent his life raising and selling gamecocks — fighting roosters — to be used in cockfights worldwide. Although banned in many countries, the ancient tradition of cockfighting persists both legally and illegally as entertainment and as a piece of cultural heritage.

A cockfight unfolds in an enclosed, circular arena, called a “palenque” in Latin America. After the roosters are weighed and the bets are placed, judges and spectators look on as the birds peck and claw each other, often assisted by metal spurs fastened to their legs. The duel ends when one rooster is killed, badly injured, or withdrawn by its handler.

According to Bandin, the Mexican tradition of cockfighting can be traced to the 16th century Spanish colonization of Latin America. Today, it is simply a social reality. “These chickens have been here fighting since the time of our ancestors,” Bandin said. “Through the years, the culture has naturally strengthened and grown intertwined with the music and festivity of the local fairs.”

A 2018 review of Mexican gallistics — cockfighting — led by anthropologist Lorena Luna Rodríguez outlines a link between “combat birds and the fighting spirit,” associating gamecocks with “the incitement in man of the need to fight until the last drop of blood is lost.”

Although legal in many Mexican states, Bandin said cockfighting tournaments and the associated gambling are heavily regulated. “You have to get permits from the government and meet various requirements but this means safe, secure events,” Bandin said.

Clandestine cockfights, according to Bandin, can be dangerous. “If you play by the rules, everyone has fun,” he said. “You go to other places and there are bad people — money launderers and drug dealers, gambling lots of money.” For this reason, Bandin said he’s a proponent of sanctioned, well-organized cockfights, and that he only sells the animals he raises to trusted, credentialed buyers.

The Humane Society of the United States considers cockfighting an unnecessarily violent sport and a breach of animal rights. They point out that “even the birds who aren’t killed during cockfights suffer terribly,” citing steroid injection, separation from other animals and poor living conditions.

Bandin pointed out the hypocrisy of such U.S.-oriented perspectives by comparing cockfighting to factory farming. “Nowadays, the chickens you eat are raised in five weeks and then they’re in the supermarket,” Bandin said, “without ever seeing a ray of sunshine, without ever climbing a tree or running around scratching for worms in the dirt.”

Bandin’s gamecocks, he said, enjoy relative freedom as they mature naturally. They aren’t sold for combat until they reach two to three years of age. According to Bandin, little training is necessary, as fighting breeds are naturally aggressive. “It’s not what you feed the cocks or how you bathe them or anything,” he said. “It’s in their blood – it comes with their race. Like a fighting bull.”

Check out the other winning entry here.

Aedan Seaver is a student at the University of Oregon.

This article was written by Ellie Johnson, a journalism student at the University of Oregon program, as part of a study abroad program in Querétaro, Mexico. Our CEO recently met with the students and the MND editorial team reviewed and selected the top articles to publish.

Strolling along Calle 5 de Mayo in the Centro Historico of Querétaro, one will eventually come across Renovadora de Calzado Don Santiago. Inside the hole-in-the-wall shoe repair shop, the shelves are cluttered with shoes piled on top of each other, creating a chaotic yet organized display. To the left of the countertop lies the shop’s most striking item: an ancient shoe stretcher machine that looks like it could have been brought over by Emperor Maximillian in the 1800s.

Renovadora de Calzado Don Santiago had many loyal clients who would come when their soles needed to be restored or when they needed a good polishing. Santiago passed away nearly a year ago, but his colleagues continue to keep the store alive. Today, Daniel Caesar is working hard to keep Santiago’s legacy thriving.

Caesar arrived at the storefront when he was 17 years old. He had previous experience working with shoes, but his craft improved once he started working with Santiago. He spent many years training under Santiago before becoming proficient. He spends most of his days in the storefront replacing worn-out soles, repairing stitching and conditioning leather.

The population of Querétaro has been growing steadily each year since 2020. The city’s urban development and loyal customers have left the shoe repair shop with too many clients. At any given time, three workers spend most of their day inside the stuffy workshop, working hard to meet their clients’ needs. “In the past, there were not so many people. There were not so many cars. We have too many clients,” Caesar said.

Nonetheless, Caesar is committed to the craft of shoe repair in the name of Don Santiago. Since Santiago passed away, many clients stop by just to chat about Santiago and the impact he had on the community. Continuing Santiago’s legacy makes the hard work worth it to Caesar. “The job isn’t easy. No job is easy. But the clients value the work and they are satisfied,” Caesar said.

It appears that shoe repair shops are far more common in Mexico than in the United States. In Querétaro, there are nearly 50 shoe repair shops. Today, the university town of Eugene, Oregon, has only three shoe repair shops. Mike Summers, the manager of Jim the Shoe Doctor in Eugene, says that nearly 40 years ago, there were over 25 shoe repair shops. The prevalence of shoe repair shops in Mexico demonstrates the value placed on sustaining products. In contrast, there are fewer and fewer in American cities. The only way crucial small businesses, such as shoe repair shops, can survive is if people realize the importance of repair over replacement.

Renovadora de Calzado Don Santiago, located in the heart of Calle 5 de Mayo, is a quintessential part of the Querétaro community. It has served as more than a shoe repair shop for the last 45 years: it has served as a gathering place for the community, where people stop to chat about their day. It’s a place where important connections are made and essential services are provided. Despite the struggles of running a small business, Caesar hopes to keep the store alive for many years to come. “That’s the idea,” he explains.

Check out the other winning entry here.

Ellie Johnson is a student at the University of Oregon.