RELIGION FOR ATHEISTS

(Sorry it has taken me so long to post this - moved house and forgot which computer it was on.)

In a previous post I reported I was reading Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton, a book which seemed to be the answer to many questions about what it is that strikes me as special about the country of Mexico, especially the religious aspects of the country.  Trained as a sociologists I kept thinking I saw “community”, that thing which sociologists felt had been in decline since 1850.  Indeed Auguste Comte (1798-1857) the French sociologist, who first applied the name to a field of study, made significant contributions to our understanding of societal developments before attempting to create a religious-like program which would accomplish what religion had done previously. He saw community disappearing and wanted to rebuild it without religion.   F. Toennies (18551936) made sociology’s concerns clearer when he developed the concepts of Gemeinschaft and Gesellschaft, the former term usually translated by “community” or a society held together by emotional and personal relationships.  In this state  we come to know each other more holistically, we tend to be more open and authentic and we feel more obliged to help others.  The later is modern society where contractual relationships (at work, shopping and so on) bind people together.  We live in a less charged emotional world, always try to present our best face and don’t really know those we even call friends.  In the latter phase there is much less constraint on the ego and too often it “runs amok”.  It creates the “me” generation and many of the other ills of society; the self is homeless and the ego becomes dominant and no one want to tell you when your behaviour is inappropriate since “nobody is the boss of me”.

Friederick Nietzsche (1844-1900) coined the phrase “God is dead”, among others, and with this phrase encouraged us to abandon a belief in God.  Religions were non-rational and humans, having created God, were capable of developing a rational basis for living, for morals, for relationships and so on.

Into this context comes the book Religion for Atheists.  It begins by suggesting the most boring question to ask is: is religion true?  It is very simple to suggest that God and many of the stories of the Bible, or of any religion, do not stand up to the test of science.  If instead we accept that God is dead and the various unsupportable claims made by religions are dismissed:  What is left of religion?  Is it of any use?   To often the answer draws upon another concept from Nietzsche, “the bad odour of religion”, and we tend to reject everything. Even a hint of morality turns people off.  All religions and their 2500 years of thinking about the human condition are dismissed.  Nothing is left and we are on our own.  We would rather believe the most recent research by psychologists than consider issues humans have thought about for centuries.  We tend to believe that the past teaches us nothing.

Botton suggests that all religions have two broad goals:  First “the need to live together in harmony, despite our deeply rooted selfish and violent impulses.  And second, the need to cope with terrifying degrees of pain which arise from our vulnerability to professional failure, to troubled relationships, to death of loved ones and to our own decay.”  God may be dead but these two important needs continue to haunt us.  Botton attempts to scavenge religious books to separate the non-rational from the helpful, suggesting there are many ingenious concepts with which to understand and perhaps solve the ills of secular society.  If self-help books can be helpful why not 2500 years of religious thought.

The Catholic mass is a beginning point.  The mass works to breakdown many of the social divisions which separate us.  People of all work, income or status groups come together to share, listen, sing and pray together.  We are reminded very quickly that we are all in this together, we want the same attention and love from God.  Second, we all listen to a very moral language and its lessons are repeated over and over.  Third we are surrounded by the great moral figures of our history in the form of statuary. Fourth, the rituals of the occasion are often repeated and the audience plays an important role, responding to requirements to pray, to sing and to recite very common lines.  All of these help unite people and the repetition drives home simple but important messages.  Fifth, the very building in which the mass is conducted has been intentionally created to make us look up, be quiet and to realize how small we are.  Our egos are all put in their proper place.

Botton includes a whole chapter on architecture and I was struck by the debate which emerged during the reformation.  Protestants were incensed at the money spent on Catholic churches and the extensive use of art work, statuary and so on.  Protestants argued that the bible alone could work just fine even if in a simple home surrounded by the squalor of the growing industrialization.   Catholics argued that we could only be uplifted in a beautiful location and they went on a building spree to illustrate their beliefs. It does seem that the Protestants were wrong on this issue and we now all appreciate the value of beautiful building, parks, streets and the value of untrammelled nature.  All of these things appear to heal the spirit and protect it from the roughness of many parts of the community and of life.

The author also takes us back to 1792 when revolutionary France separated the state from the Catholic church.  Three days after this declaration the state opened the Louvre gallery, filling many of its rooms with objects stolen or confiscated from church buildings.  In later years the theft of artifacts from churches further afield filled the halls.  The museum was supposed to perform the same goals as the church but how were we to look at these works of art?  Were we to pray?  Simply adore them?  What?  Rather than to learn moral lessons from art we were expected to learn facts.  This latter objective is often revealed in the museum-gallery itself -  the development of art from 1650 to 1750, the art of painter X, the development of the style y.  Lost of course is the moral point of view, we no longer look at a piece of religious art and find our self melting away and becoming part of the “other” - leading to opening ourselves, becoming less egotistical, more compassionate, thinking about the world, etc.  Instead we are urged to examine the use of brush strokes, of colour, of perspective.

Similarly when society set out on its secular path the universities said they could do what churches had previously done, particularly through the departments of humanities.  Through the great literature of the world they would expose us to the human condition and to solutions to very human problems - grief, relational problems, our own vulnerability and failures.  An examination of most universities however, shows that these grand ideals have been replaced by academic issues.  We are introduced to surveys of the development of narrative, the style of 3 modern authors, the use of metaphor in literature, and so on.  Lost is the moral instruction promised and we are left with a number of valuable books which we may read once and are left to gather our own lessons from the material.  We are presented with more books than the great authors ever dreamed of and yet our souls remain untouched.  If it were the church, students would read less, reread more often and read with the intention of exploring the moral dilemmas inherent in the stories.

Botton does not confine himself to Catholicism, drawing useful lessons from Judaism and Buddhism.  One example from Judaism is the day of atonement when you are required to review the past year to identify instances when you hurt someone.   You are then required to seek them out and apologize.  The receiver is obliged to appreciate your thought and effort and to forgive.  In this way small hurts are dealt with before they become disruptive of relationships.  In Buddhism we find the practise of meditation where one is led through a process of breathing, focussing on elements of the body until the ego is silenced if even for a few moments.   With repetition the ego is tamed and one is more open to your own needs and to the  needs of others.

If all of this can be generalized it is by seeing that these religions see the self (or our ego) as a source of a great many problems.  They have each found useful solutions in order to reduce the barriers between people, to take us out of ourselves so we can appreciate others, to impart moral lessons, to imagine the suffering of others, to talk about our feelings and vulnerabilities and to live and work together. All religions realized another important part of the human condition:  we all have best of intentions but forget our commitment shortly thereafter.  This is most clear to us on January 10 when our New Year resolutions are broken and put away until next January.  Religions are built around practice so that we continue to hear that voice in our head - “keep pedaling”.

Reading this book has given some clarity to why it is that I do not believe in God and at the same time get weepy when I witness community events and religious ritual in Mexico.  I have always thought it was about more than the God thing.

CARNIVAL AS MAKING COMMUNITY VISIBLE

If you are a regular reader of this blog you may rightly have concluded that I am obsessed with “community”.   You would be right since I believe I see community much more directly in Mexico than I do in Canada.  Now you may well say, “here he goes again”.

We recently attended a carnival event in a small pueblo, an almost immediately I said, “now this is community”.  Quite different than the block parties I am accustomed to.   The event began with many members of the community gathering in the centre of town and then forming a parade of sorts with the mandatory band keeping everyone on track and bottle rockets telling everyone else to get a move on or they would miss the festivities.   At the head of the parade was a burro, nicely adorned with ribbons and balloons and more importantly, carrying the beer.  The destination was a dusty and rocky intersection about 500 meters from the pueblo.

The men unload the beer.

At this intersection a small slice of community life was enacted.   Women had brought food, tables were set up and those who wished could sit down to eat.  Since carnival in this region is often about cross-dressing there were a number of men in tight dresses, pantyhose and high heels.   Two or three of the men wore masks.  The women too assumed roles of men although they didn’t really cross-dress.  Instead they carried hand-carved wooden swords whose symbolism said -”we are men”.  Other women acted like the male cargueros of other events in that they wore cowboy hats, had the essential woven bag over their shoulders and carried and distributed the tequila to all assembled.   Aside from eating the main event was dancing.   The male-women went into the crowd and brought other men to the dance floor, young women did the same and it was in this way that we were invited to the dance “floor”.   My partner was a young woman who had flown home from Los Angles just for this event.   The old women stood together in their dark clothes, with colourful confetti in their hair, rarely smiling and talking quietly among themselves.  There were very few old men. 

Did I mention that the dresses are tight.

Here we see the women with their swords.

After an hour of dancing the group returned to the pueblo, gathering in the basketball court where the local farmers had arrived with wheelbarrows full of fruit and vegetables which they distribute to the crowd.  Everyone then went home for a while before reassembling for a dance which went on late into the night.   If the men became too drunk the women, perhaps the ones with the swords, were entitled to lock them up for the night.

So, we saw elements of many Michoacán carnival events - the torito and cross-dressed men taunting the bull and then forcing men to dance with them.  But, more importantly for me, we saw all of this performed in a community setting.  All were linked together through some connection to this little place, all categories of the community were present and a strong sense of making things happen for their own entertainment and fulfillment of traditional responsibilities.

KIDS MATTER

I have talked about children a lot in these post but I return to it again for a more focused look. We often here the expression that “it takes a village to raise a child”. This expression seems to have multiple meanings depending on the speaker or the audience. It might mean better education, more program support for parents, fewer punitive responses from the community or more acceptance of children in housing and on the streets. Let’s look again at a few events which I believe show how the community here participates in raising children.
I describe again the feature of the day of the revolution parade that impress me. The celebration takes place on November 20, but the week before the preschool children dress in their revolutionary costumes and take to the streets in a parade. There are quite a number of children in rural Mexico but the community waits patiently while the parade blocks streets and parents and friends throw confetti on the children. This year they were accompanied by an adult marching band. Then on November 20 the older children, as well as a few adults like the mayor, the queen for the day, and men on horses form a parade that takes about 90 minutes to pass. The majority of the towns traffic is brought to a standstill. The young people have their own school bands and it is clear that everyone is taken seriously; they are centre stage for the day and much of the community participates with cheering and confetti. Young people learn their history (some being dressed as revolutionary heros and other carrying images), a great deal of time is spent in preparing (learning how to march around corners) and they are seen as important in the eyes of the community.
Surprisingly this whole thing is repeated for the first day of spring when the preschool children hold a parade through the centre of town in their birds and bees costumes. But in a very general sense we find that children are not excluded from events. They spend the night in the cemeteries with their parents and grandparents, they are taken to restaurants, they walk on the streets (there being very few strollers), they help their parents in stores and stalls from a very early age and they appear to be part of the community in ways seldom seen in other parts of North America (except perhaps among immigrant families).
During the biggest religious festival of the year I was struck by the clarity of this belongingness and the inclusion of children. Two images: first, in the Basilica many families chose to crawl on their knees up the aisle to the alter (thus fulfilling a promise). Parents and children did this together. At times the children would turn the crawl into a competition but they were never scolded or restrained. One parent chose this occasion to provide her daughter with another lesson in crossing herself properly. All of this in a standing crowd of 600-700 people. Second, during a religious procession (the entire event had gone on 16 hours) one of the mothers playing an important role throughout the day, was carrying a young child who was sound asleep. This while following the most important image of the community and also the bishop who had come to town to assist in the celebrations.

In this community I have seldom heard children crying, being shouted at, being treated roughly or throwing a tantrum. If you do see any of these behaviours it is invariably a family from the big city. Children appear happy, alive, confident of who they are and fully participating in the life of the community. One can not help but be struck by the absence of a strong youth culture in this semi-rural community. Everyone listens to the same music, the only difference being individual preference not age. By the age of 2 years, children know exactly how to move their body and feet to the music.
We attended a concert of a local, and somewhat famous, group a few nights ago and the theatre appeared half full of children, none of whom were quiet. I heard no one complain nor did I hear children being scolded. (Although we did move seats because the kids behind us were talking and hitting the seat.) I decided at that moment that here was the answer to why the volume is always very loud at Mexican events.
Some of these same children of course put graffiti on our walls on the way home from school. I am also not naive enough to believe that all is sweetness. Many children are abandoned by families too poor to care from them or have limited parenting skills or no extended family. One little boy we have watched for a few years is not allowed to get back into the house without a specified sum of money. He literally sings for his supper. There are probably the same numbers of abused children and mothers, the same numbers of family breakdowns and so on as you would find in other parts of North America. But something is clearly different as well.

SEEING COMMUNITY

Community! What is it? As a sociologist I have talked about community all my adult life having realized that sociology is a long nostalgic essay on the loss of community. If sociology is correct, most of us have never experienced community in the strongest sense of the term. We do see flashes of community in times of disaster or personal tragedies but what must it have been like in a stronger and or more encompassing form? First a word or two about this difficult notion of community. For me it refers to a strong sense of solidarity among a non-family group, a sense of belonging, involvement and emotional connection. The capacity and willingness of people to not necessarily deny their individuality but to be able to make substantial contributions to the common good or the welfare of the group. In most western societies this contribution is made in a very impersonal fashion - we pay our taxes and hope or even demand that government take care of the marginalized, the sick and the poor and even to organize our entertainment. Increasingly we rely on the corporate sector to arrange for public events, pay for what we call democracy and so on. Community would be a much more personal involvement and commitment to these projects.

This is a prelude to my trying to understand our experience of attending a Mexican fiesta on Three Kings Day (Jan. 6). We arrived in the pueblo, a place that is not really very remote now having good highway access, but felt like another world, around 3:00 pm. The town has a different feel to it because of being surrounded by forest and mountains and the more traditional type of housing. Not exactly the traditional trojes but troje-like. The town is an access point to the newest volcano in the world (having emerged in a farmer’s field around 1935 and exploded in the mid-1940s devastating a community), so attracts a number of tourist, many of whom are invited to travel to their destination on horse-back. The church was very attractive in it’s Christmas finery and the yard had a number of nacimientos (manger scenes) around the wall each with one or more doll sized images of baby Jesus. Local dancers were beginning to appear from houses and people were congregating in the large church yard. Before long there were too many dancers to count, a substantial crowd, three kings on horses and a beautiful image of the baby Jesus seated in a chair was brought from the church.

The dancers were unlike anything we had seen before but it became clear that they were “kurpites” (fittingly in the local language this means coming together). (However, some carried viejito canes adding to my confusion.) What was distinctive about the dancers clothing was that they had up to 20 aprons tied quite high up on the body and going around the body. This gave the dancers the appearance of being quite fat. These aprons were hand-made with fine needlework probably by mothers, aunts, grandmothers, girl friends. The dancers carried their personal history on their backs. These were the Kurpites dancers and as well one or two wore masks of Mary (Marangillas) and of Jose (Joseph). The dancers wore a scarf just over the nose and a mask covered in beads, tinsel and ribbons, on the top of their heads. Many appeared to have new cowboy boots and all had bells on their ankles. There appeared to be a group of quite young dancers (some 4 or 5 years old) and then a group of older teenagers. After much waiting the procession began with all of the dancers, the horses, an image of the Virgin, the image of baby Jesus and well as all of the Jesus figures from the mangers and a substantial crowd. An incense burner was carried before Jesus and immediately after one or two people throwing confetti on the carriers. The procession proceeded around the community on a very cold night accompanied by the usual cojetes (rocket-like fireworks).

On arrival at the church we found women appearing from the side streets with large containers of pozole, baskets of tortillas, more baskets of tamales and countless bags of oranges. Before long the church-yard was filled with perhaps 800 people (perhaps the whole town). The ritual of giving gifts to the children began. Remarkably they lined up without pushing or fighting and the young ones waited to be given a gift from one of the trucks parked in the yard. Girls appeared to receive small Barbie-like dolls, very small ironing boards, small plastic chairs and the boys very small plastic wheel-barrows and balls. Eventually the organization broke down as the men in the truck began throwing gifts into the crowd. There were no signs of “brought to you be corporation x” and no sign of political types.

In the background food was being prepared with a table set for the elders of the community and I assume everyone who wished would be given access to food. We too could have participated having been told that what was expected was presentation of a gift of cigarettes or tequila to the chief elder. Although we had purchased the gift we left the community before food was consumed having decided there just wasn’t enough space for 4 gringos to navigate the crowd.

For me a sense of community was every where but most clearly in the amount of effort and money many family had contributed to make this event happen and have the marvelous appearance and feel it did. For example, if there were 100 dancers (and there may have been more) each with 20 aprons, this would amount to 2000 aprons! Who purchased the gifts for about 200 young people? Who prepared all the food (this may have involved grinding the corn, making masa, filling tomales, etc.? In a traditional community like this there may have been a carguero in charge of the image of Santo Niño who may have been selected because of his resources and he may have borrowed money from others or required people to contribute money to purchase supplies, pay for the band, and so on. In any event what we saw was the signs of community with little presence of the usual stage managers of public events in the West.

One final thought: all of the dancers were under the age of 18 so this would create a constant need for new dancers thus bringing in the next generation. As a result the majority of the adults would share something in common with these kids. All of the males would be bound together in some fashion by this common service to baby Jesus and to the community. Females would be bound together in a similar fashion through their service to organization, costume creation and food preparation. I doubt if opting out of attendance was an option: saying you were tired or had other commitments just wouldn’t wash. Community came first.

THE VALUE OF A PLAZA!

As a resident of Mexico one quickly comes to love the plaza as it is the centre of public life (and to some extent private) and sets the tone for the whole community. In Canada and the USA there is a feeling that this type of space is missing and attempts are often made to create these feeling in private spaces – in the malls. It is unclear if this can ever be achieved in developed nations as a cultural mind-set is also required to maintain a large public space. But let’s describe one plaza in a small Mexican village.

The plaza encompasses 4-5 square blocks and has many of the typical features of such spaces: The plaza is almost entirely surrounded by portals which protect one from the elements but also provide a transition from the commercial spaces of the businesses and municipal offices and the public space of the plaza itself. In the portals one can enjoy a cup of coffee, share a meal with fiends or buy an ice-cream. The plaza itself has large walkways, three fountains (one with a large statue of a local hero), stone benches around the fountain and the periphery as well as a substantial grass area that you are asked to stay off.

In the plaza one can also see hints of the power structure of the village. The municipal office is here, the homes of three or four of the older and still powerful families front the square and as the rents are high the owners have some influence. Unlike many plazas there is no church here which of course is still a great power in Mexico. The other anomaly is the presence of a quite large building (the Palacio) owned by the indigenous community, granted to them 20 years ago and almost 400 years after the death of the last king. Is this real power? It is unclear.

It is the use made of the entire plaza that reflects the culture of the village. Activities fluctuate throughout the day, as does the mood. In the morning all is quite with people enjoying a coffee or breakfast and others strolling to work or to the markets. A few women sit on a corner selling the tortillas they have made early in the morning. As the temperature warms vendors arrive with fruit stalls and people spend time on the benches. By late afternoon you can experience a wide variety of happenings which vary over the year and time of day. Small stalls are setup on the sidewalks selling hats and scarves, others the work of artisans, the goods of the store spill out on to the sidewalk, school children on their way home stop to play in the fountain and to tease each other and mobile vendors sell various food stuffs and other goods. A band may show up and soon people are dancing, the dog training class arrives to go through their paces, children with new bikes are learning to ride, adults do some power walking as their daily exercise, the school bands come to practice their skills and perhaps a group of kindergarden kids arrive with their tutor to learn how to march (focusing on the art of turning corners and staying in line) or other school children may come to practice short races. By early evening the plaza fills with people just strolling and visiting, young lovers gather around the fountains and many are eating the goods from food stalls – fruit, corn, atole (a type of hot drink), tamales and always the ice cream. Later men and women arrive with mobile stalls selling hamburgers, pizza, breads, candies. And finally the “hippies” appears with their tables loaded with jewelry.

The weekends may have a more festive mood with the sale of balloons and pull toys for kids, musicians play, the local traditional dancers perform the dance of the viejitos (the old ones), very small horses take children around the outside of the space, someone erects a small pace for children to work on drawings or paintings, and on occasion the municipality erects a stage for very good guitar players or singers.

There are of course special occasions. For day of the dead and for three kings day the plaza fills with vendors, political disputes may be played out by buses blocking all traffic around the plaza (if not the entire town), there is a performance of the Christmas story followed by the breaking of piñatas. At Easter a large representation of the sorrow of Mary is centrally displayed and the procession of silence winds around the square. Funeral processions may go through the plaza and wedding cars announce to the village a change in life for two people, carnival dancers use the space as do dancers honouring the anniversary of the last king of the indigenous empire, wreathes are placed around the main fountain on the anniversary of the Bishop honoured here. Parades for the first day of spring, or celebrating the day of the revolution, or independence day, or flag day or almost any other event, all take place here.

All of this activity appears to go on without dispute or intervention by the police. There also appears to be little vandalism. Spending time in the plaza almost always leaves you with a sense of peace and belonging and a strong desire to return again just to sit and watch.

There are other plazas in the village and if you want to have your shoes shined, buy a paper or magazine, sit and talk to the people of even smaller villages, buy (and eat) a wide variety of foods, purchase a pirated movie, have a shrimp cocktail or sit in the evening for a good meal of plaza chicken, then go to the small plaza

SOUNDS OF COMMUNITY

I was listening to a radio program on churches recently and heard that in many Canadian cities it has become illegal to ring the bells of churches in city centres – the neighbors had complained. Everything in these neighborhoods has become “noise”. Modern urban dwellers are accustomed to noise - traffic, construction, garden equipment – all of which is treated as a distraction or something to complain about. Indeed many of our communities have noise bylaws. In Mexico one has a very different experience of noise. There may well be more noise, but more importantly it takes on a different significance as it signals community life and involves you in that community of hearers
As the day begins, usually at 6:30, but often much earlier, church bells begin to ring. These bells don’t just signal that mass is in progress, but they serve as an alarm and the pattern of the bells gives a sense of how long you have to get to church. Throughout the day the bells ring and you begin to recognize that some of these bells depict funerals, weddings or celebratory events. You become involved in the social life of the imagined community. Both religious and secular events are preceded by rounds of fireworks (not the colourful kind, but the noisy kind) which tell you where an event is located and the frequency of the explosions signals the amount or time until the event.

At 7:30 each morning the gas trucks begin to ply their product with a loudspeaker announcing their presence on your street and usually giving a phone number as well as few bars of the William Tell overture. About the same time each morning major stores have vehicles with loudspeakers addressing the women of the house to reveal the specials of the day. Throughout the day you will also hear the hand-rung bells of the garbage collectors or you will hear shouts of “santorini” announcing the presence of water delivery in your neighborhood. Put your jug (garafon) out, along with some money, and a fresh jug will be provided. There is the constant sound of the ice cream wagon, usually around school let out time. Then there is the loooong sound of a truck horn announcing the arrival of the milk truck providing fresh, unpasturized milk. Take your jug to the street and the vendor will fill it from a series of milk cans. With less frequency is a whistle, which sounds like a duck, telling you that the postman is at your door or another more musical whistle telling you that the knife sharpener is walking on your street. Another frequent sound is that of the high school band practicing their marching music. At other times the music indicates a procession of some kind, perhaps a funeral or a procession taking the virgin from one church to another. At election time there are never-ending loudspeakers roaming the city asking for your support and involvement. Once a year you also hear the announcement that the circus is in town or you may well encounter the elephants walking through the plaza to draw attention to the event. The sound of hooves on the cobblestones indicates young people in need are selling firewood, or a type of compost, on your street.

There are of course the noises of an irritating manner – the honks of a local traffic jam, neighbors playing their music too loudly (for you), the hammering of construction, and with growing frequency the sound of an airplane flying too low. Sometimes this is the sound of the army helicopter and everyone looks up and no doubt worries about what this might signal. You may also be awakened by the early rising rooster in your neighbor’s back yard, or, neighborhood dogs may keep you awake as barks rise and fade like the sounds a hockey audience. If you told Mexican people that in Canada you could call the police to deal with a barking dog or loud music they simply would not understand what you were talking about.

The other noises however, are sounds of real community life and these are your gateway to involvement. All of these noises are generated on the assumption that people (usually women or maids) are in their houses listening and are available to engage. These community sounds may be necessary because not everyone buys the local newspaper, has a telephone or a vehicle. Smaller communities may have a communal loudspeaker system which will announce the arrival of electric bills and provide information on when and where to pay them. All types of communal information can be distributed in this manner. People are engaged much more directly in their neighborhoods and community and what could be the sounds of a consumer culture become the sounds of an authentic community. All of this reminds us what has happened to the western community as stores have become larger and thus drive local businesses away from neighborhoods, people travel further to work, noise bylaws and soliciting bylaws keep strangers from the door and eliminate the sounds of real community life. We come to see ourselves as isolated individuals and not as community members.

PS I mentioned the sound announcing the knife sharpener. I recently watched the movie "La historia de Lisboa" by Wim Wenders recently and was shocked to hear that the whistle of the knife sharpener in Lisbon is exactly the same as that used in Patzcuaro. Was this sound transported to Mexico? Is it a universal call?