Running with the bull

So my mom, my brother and I were walking back from lunch at The Anglican, which is Robi's favorite lunch place, (he is very set in his ways) along the dirt road to Juasun. Small children bid us good afternoon (practice your English on the wazungu), I can understand them after a moment. We smile and reply good afternoon. We continue walking and presently we hear fast footsteps approaching us. I think that there are children running after us, after all there had been a gaggle of children following us not 5 minutes ago. I decide not to look at the children running after us. Then my brother makes a noise of surprise and distress. Maybe it was my mom, I really don't know because what is running behind us isn't a group of children and what happens next wipes other thoughts out of my head. I had started to get out of the way as soon as I heard the sound of alarm from Pineapple Fishstick but a split second later the thing behind me runs into me. As I finish leaping out of the way, a bull runs past me, cream colored, with horns spanning about two feet. One of those horns had just stabbed me in the buttocks. It hurts, but I'll be fine, yet my mother keeps making a huge deal out of it. Looking back, it could have been a big deal, if I hadn't leapt out of the way just in time. There is a hole in my shirt. And my pants. And my boxers, yet it feels like I've got no more than a bruise. It isn't even so bad riding my bike. Luckily the bikes have wide seats here.