The birds, caught a month earlier and fed on entrails, seemed by now used to their human surroundings but perhaps confused by the bustle and noise.

The town had already been celebrating for several days in a yearly rite of food, dance and drinking. Custom called for the drinks to flow freely, including chicha, a slightly sour fermented corn concoction; sweet-smelling aguardiente; and beer.

Arriving at the bullring, the condors were paraded around the arena, which was packed with thousands of people. Most were from Coyllurqui and nearby communities, but a few buses had made the long drive from Cuzco, nine hours or more on a windy dirt road, carrying Peruvian tourists.

Many people went down into the ring to take cellphone pictures or videos or have their photographs snapped alongside the birds. The mayor and other dignitaries, also wearing colorful capes, did a tripping circle dance in the tamped-down yellow grass in the ring, dotted with cow pies. Some fell down from alcohol or giddiness, or both.

The birds were ushered out and a series of bullfights followed (the bulls are not killed here). In most years, the townspeople act as toreadors, sometimes with gory or even fatal results. Yawar means blood in Quechua, and many people say that the name of the festival comes from the blood spilled by the often drunken amateur bullfighters.

The name derives from a 1941 novel, “Yawar Fiesta,” by the Peruvian writer José María Arguedas, which depicts a similar festival. Until perhaps 20 years ago, people here called their festival by a Quechua name, turupukllay, that is roughly translated as “bull game.”

This year, the mayor hired professional bullfighters. He told them not to wear their flashy traditional garb, and they executed their capework with little grace.