Every week or so, this strange whistle rings out around the streets. It's a simple scale, descending and ascending, with a metallic tone. The other week we witnessed both the source and the rationale - a man on moped with a knife-sharpening wheels fixed on the back, the whistle intended to summon, Pied Piper-like, wives with their knives from the surrounding buildings.
It's a wonderfully idiosyncratic niche that he fills in the barrio's social and economic life and, while we've got a perfectly good knife-sharpener in our kitchen, it always brings a smile to our faces to know little trades and traditions still continue in this otherwise ultra-modern capital.
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