![[banana man]](images/bananaman.jpeg "banana man")
Many local street vendors yell out their wares. But
others identify themselves with distinctive sounds.
If you're sitting in your hotel room during the evening and hear the blast of a steam whistle, you know that the banana man is near. Pushing along a metal wood-fired oven on wheels, he'll sell you a plate of baked bananas. They're VERY sweet, made even more so after they're topped with condensed milk and cream.
That clang of the metal triangle announces the presence of the oblea seller. Toting a metal tub and playing a rhythmic beat on the instrument, he's offering packets of a sweet tostada.
Then there's that three-note whistle. That belongs to the knife sharpener. He strolls the streets with his half-a-bicycle and will sharpen your kitchen knives on the pedal-powered whetstone for 5 pesos a shot. (Machetes cost more)
More night sounds: That whistle you hear outside your room these nights isn't someone trying to get your attention, although that is what it sounds like. It's actually the call of a kind of frog that multiplies rapidly during the rainy season.
And that noise that is either like granma expressing her displeasure (tsk, tsk) or tapping your ring on a pane of glass, is courtesy of your friendly house gecko. Here they're called cuijas, and they are one of the very few lizards that are able to vocalize.
The answer is to keep the flies away and many locals swear that it works. Anybody like to explain to us how or why? The best explanation we've heard so far is that it has to do with the complex eye of the fly, and the refraction of light through the bags that keeps them on the move.
Anyone have a better explanation?