ETC

The other day I stopped at a shoe repair shop. It was on a very quiet side street, near a Chinese restaurant, in a neighbourhood where you hardly see any children or young people. Nowadays, coming across a shoe repair shop is a very rare event. Shoe shops, yes, of course, but shoe repair shops? On reflection, such a sight is far more exotic and surprising than the Taj Mahal itself (assuming the cloud of pollution hovering over Agra allows us to see it, of course). Naturally, I pulled out my mobile phone and took a photo of it. The tiny place was called ‘’El Abuelo‘’ (Grandpa). I will transcribe now the sign above the doorway: “Shoe repairs. Copies of keys. Knives and scissors sharpening. Putting zips on all kinds of garments. Creams. Brushes. Shoe insoles. Laces. Etc”.

That day, I had arranged to meet some friends at the Chinese restaurant, and I immediately ran to find them so that we could take a selfie in front of the nearby “El Abuelo”. Ordinary people take selfies on the Brooklyn Bridge or on the Great Wall of China, but real connoisseurs take pictures in front of the very few shoe repair shops that are still standing. Where can you find a shop that sharpens not only knives, but also scissors? Did you hear right, scissors? And who still fixes zips on skirts and trousers? And what about the portentous “etc” that follows the list of creams, brushes, laces and shoe insoles? What does it refer to? Soles and half-soles? Synthetic glues? Buckles? Rampons? Boot-removing boards? Dizzying stiletto heels for New Year’s Eve parties? Don’t tell me that’s not a much more exciting mystery than 95% of Netflix and Amazon Prime content.

Anyone who has seen a cobbler at work knows that it takes a lot of skill to do what he does

That workshop, let’s remember, is called “El Abuelo”, and one wonders how long it will survive. Not long, no doubt about it. Because it’s hard to imagine that anyone will keep the business going when the current owners retire. What son or grandson (or daughter or granddaughter) dreams of inheriting a shoe repair shop? Who wants to be a cobbler? My father, who was a surgeon, used to tell me that a good butcher needs to possess a manual skill very similar to that of a good surgeon. And the same – I am sure – can be said of a shoemaker or an ironmonger or a locksmith or a cabinetmaker. These are trades that require great manual dexterity but are not particularly profitable or highly valued. And yet, anyone who has seen a cobbler at work knows that you have to have a lot of skill – as well as craft – to do what they do. No, it’s not easy to be a cobbler. So remember: a shoe repair shop, in this society where everything is used and thrown away and despised, is as beautiful, if not more beautiful, than the magnificent Taj Mahal itself.