Showing posts with label expats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expats. Show all posts

Thursday, 19 May 2011

The Knife Sharpener

One of my memories of childhood is the ritual of the Sunday roast. Mum would spend all afternoon preparing it - roast beef, at least two veg, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, the lot. Delicious smells would pervade the house and we would gather in the dining room around 6pm for a proper family meal. Dad would always carve and was extremely fussy about having a super-sharp carving knife. Each week he would stand at the head of the table, carving knife in one hand and steel in the other, and make a great play of sharpening the knife. It was something he insisted on, along with smartly polished shoes (I've still never found anyone who can buff school shoes to quite such a sheen as Dad) and good table manners.

Ever since I've left home, Dad has always complained about the bluntness of the knives in my kitchen. One year, he even bought me an expensive carving knife and steel set, but I think he is the only one who has ever used the steel.

Since living in Bahrain though, my knives are so sharp that I regularly slice my fingers when cutting fruit and veg. This is all thanks to Anil, a nice knife-sharpener gentleman from Andhra Pradesh.


Once a month, Anil settles himself down on my terrace, opens an ancient-looking wooden box and sets to work on all my knives and scissors until they are razor sharp. Of course, some of them don't really need sharpening every month, but Anil told me once that on top of his living expenses, he has to pay his Bahraini sponsor nearly GBP 1,500 for his work visa: that's an awful lot of knives.

On his last visit, he was so happy as he was heading home for the first time in over 2 years to see his wife and four young children, to whom he sends money each month. Bahrain is full of expats like Anil, separated from their families, sometimes for years, because of a lack of jobs in their homelands. I can't imagine how hard it must be not being around to see your children grow up. I hope he has a wonderful holiday and until he returns at the end of the summer, I'll just have to dust off Dad's steel.