28 Sept 2013 , Saturday
8.00 am
Lok Ann Hotel & Cafe , Jalan Sultan , Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Yesterday, I was lucky enough to be having the first and last breakfast
together with two of my colleagues and friends at Lok Ann Hotel and
Cafe. This cafe which sits on Jalan Sultan is located directly opposite
the back gateway into Petaling Street, a shopping street market very
popular with tourist and the locals. I was saying that this would be the
first and the last not because anyone of us people are going to part
ways, but the Lok Ann Hotel & Cafe was at her last few days in
operation. By Monday 30th Sept 2013, she would have to cease operations
indefinitely as the premise have been acquired for the new Mass Rapid
Transit MRT developments. I shall write about that in another post,
soon.
Lok Ann Hotel & Cafe have been in business since 1938 , and if she
were a person, she would be 75year old golden aged lady who is high
spirited and caring and nurturing, that was how I would have imagined
her to be. It pains my heart and tears swelled my eyes as I looked
around at all the everyday people running their business and a steady
stream of patrons, many were senior citizens who were the regulars and
mixed amongst them were tourist and people passing by.
Lok Ann Cafe at about 8.00 am in the morning.
Most of us came with cameras for breakfast as we seek to capture the everyday moments
that morning at the cafe. On the table beside us, there were a group of
professional photographers with better photography equipments. I hope to
be able to see their professional shots online or published soon. As
for myself, I captured the moments that I saw from my humble phone as I have none of the sophisticated equipments.
My colleague Ar Chia capturing the moment.
This was my breakfast
Kopi and
Lam Mee.
There was a silver haired uncle who was the busiest man in the cafe. I watched as he dashed back and forth the whole morning taking orders, calling them out to the other elderly gentleman who prepares the coffee at the back, clears empty tables as he goes along , wiping and collecting empty cups, plates and glasses and getting people their change. He moved very quickly, making small talk with the customers with no time for eye contact who must be regulars as he passed by their tables. He made this conversations in short breaths on his way either from the back with new coffee orders or to the back with clanking empty cups. Once or twice that morning he made some mistakes, so he paused, looked around, and quickly sending the orders back to the right table, but noone made a fuss. It was a laid back Saturday for the rest of us.
My eyes traced the white tiles on the wall and to the many picture frames on the featuring black and white photographs of Lok Ann in her glory years. There were images from the opening ceremony to family portraits outside the premise. These were the memories of the Lok Ann people.
I took a good look at the building in the photograph and the surroundings and mentally did a comparison with the current coffee shop. As with people , building age too and the context of the place has changed. Building elements gives way to wear and tear, colours changes or fades , dust accumulates at hard to reach places. The wiring runs up the walls like veins onto the ceiling to give life to lights and fans and grills rust with wear and tear. This was the type of coffeshop that you would remember growing up in. The ones where your grandparents would have taken you to as you perched on 2 stacked up chairs while you share grandpa's coffee from the saucer. This would be the type of coffeeshop that you will meet familiar faces, sitting at their tables doing the same thing everytime you are back in town. This was the neighborhood breakfast place.
Tears swelled again for me as I gazed from table to table especially fixed at those where I think were where the regulars sat. Of cos this is just based on my guessing that the man reading his morning paper uninterrupted with his busy surroundings was a regular, an observer, the coffeeshop family. Where would this uncle read his morning paper after Monday? Where would he go for his breakfast where they would get his orders even without having to order them?
At the front portion of the shop , is a counter selling many different types of biscuits and cookies. These were not the ones you would find at the supermarket, these were what your grandparent's ideas of tea time snacks were.They are not machine made but hand made definitely. Come to think of it now, where am I supposed to go get my supply of hazelnut butter cookie as big as the center of your palm and the dried bread with butter and sugar sprinkled generously on top? I must have been so engrossed with everything yesterday and it did not cross my mind to get them. I guess, I still thought in my mind that the biscuit man will always be there. Oh no....
Next to the biscuit counter is a big metal fridge and beside the metal fridge is the chicken rice stall. The young couple mending the stall do not look like they are the locals and may be hired to work here. Anyways, in December last year, I passed the chicken rice couple a soft pastel poster of a chicken rice seller as promotional material for the exhibition were organized entitled Portraits of Old Kuala Lumpur. It was a small token from my drawing class.
The last stall beside the chicken rice is the noodle stall run by an elderly couple who did not seem so amused that day. They were busy preparing orders of
Lam Mee, Pork Noodles, Fish Ball Noodles and porridge. I ordered their
Lam Mee for breakfast.
At the back of the shop, behind the grills was an eighty two years old uncle who prepared all the drinks , toast and half boiled eggs. He became the star of the morning as the shutterbugs observed him closely with their lenses. Uncle was never in a rush as he took his own sweet time making the coffee. He often smiled as he caught a glimpse of me peering in to capturing him doing what he does best - coffee making. I have often observed him working in his little pantry the numerous times I have stopped for coffee. It has become almost a ritual for me every time I am in this part of town, to stop and get my
kopi peng or iced coffee. I have often claimed it to be the best in town. This morning I am giving myself two coffee shots, just in case I might not come back before Monday. Ah, goodbye coffee. Again, I am overwhelmed by emotions as I watched uncle slowly but skilfully pouring steaming hot water into the cups.
Three more days till his last day here making coffee.
It was only at mid morning when the breakfast crowd has reduced that coffee uncle was able to take a quick lunch . My colleague Mr Teoh was going to chat with him I I quickly tagged along and pulled a chair beside uncle. Uncle told us that he was 82 years old and is originally from Penang. He has been making coffee in coffeeshops in Penang until moving to Kuala Lumpur at the age of 30 with his wife seeking for better job opportunities. Before Lok Ann, uncle has been making coffee in another shop in Bukit Bintang before that shop closed. He has been making coffee in Lok Ann since. He said his wife is also still working in their golden years collecting tin cans and papers for recycling.
"
Please tell him he makes the best coffee. I will never miss a chance to get a coffee everytime I am here . " Uncle just smiled and nodded. He then excused himself to continue to his trade. So I did a mental calculation, he has been making coffee in KL for 52 years and maybe another 10 years in Penang. So that's 62years of coffee making! No wonder they are the best. In three days his coffee making stint here will be over. I hope he would be able to find another coffeeshop that would appreciate his skills and offer him a job.
"
What are your plans uncle after Monday? "
"
I don't have any yet." he said smiling and excusing himself.
Coffee uncle - The star of the day ! Click! Click ! Click !
Outside, along the five foot way is an
Ottu Kedai - Ottu in Tamil loosely translates into 'stuck onto' so Ottu
Kedai is Malay for shop, so
Ottu Kedai is a shop that is stuck onto the wall. It was managed by two Indian man who were chirpy and friendly. The shop sells many things, from newspapers to magazines, sweets and preserved orange skins, combs, condoms, cigarettes, toiletries like soap, sweet smelling powders to toothbrushes and drinks like Coca Cola soaked in ice water.
"
See all the shelves are on the wall, the things are arranged in a way they look like being stuck onto the wall " uncle Naina Mohamed the owner told me, a bright smile lit up when I mentioned
Ottu Kedai. He also told me that he has been helping his father at the shop here since he was 4 years old when the both of them came to Malaysia leaving behind his mother and the other siblings back in their home village in search for greener pastures. So this makes him the 2nd generation of the business legacy. "
This other uncle has been helping me here for 6 years. Before this he was helping his uncle befor their kedai was closed, somewhere there down the road, " he told me pointing to the end of Jalan Sultan.
This cheerful uncle has been helping at this Ottu Kedai for 6 years after the other kedai he used to work at was closed.
"
My children all are working in offices, they will not want to take over after this shop...very long hours working here" he added. Business operation is from 6.15 am till 7.30pm. Previously, they started earlier at 5am and opened till 11.30pm at night.
"
Why is that so ? " I asked him, curious.
"
Last time till night here is busy, now less people. Here here sit on the newspaper, don't sit on the pavement " he handed me a clean book of The Sun.
I lingered for a while observing their everyday business. Both men speak fluent Cantonese and mixes well with the Chinese majority community. Cars and bikes stop by and they run up and down with the newspapers knowing too well who reads what. There was an old lady with a walking stick about 100m away. When they saw her they quickly brought the newspaper to her, folded and dropped it into the basket for her. Sparing her the 100m walk which must have been a challenge for her ailing legs. I noticed that some customers stop by patting them on the back, shaking hands.
"
Sorry uncle, to ask you this. Where are you going to move to after Monday ? Will you be around this area? " I braved myself to ask. I know it was very insensitive of me.
"
Yalah, what to do. We don't have a choice mah. I called Pejabat Tanah (Land Office) yesterday. They said confirm must move by the 1st of October ....You can find me around Masjid India. I'll be there somewhere."
"
So you will start a new shop there? "
"
Nolah." he answered quickly. "
Don't know yet lah. I have no plans ."
He then pulled out a scrap book and showed me old photographs of his Ottu Kedai.
"
This is my father " , he said handing me a yellowish stained black and white photograph of a handsome young man sitting in front of the stop. The shelves were packed with rows and rows of goods for sale, much more as compared to the shelves now. "
...and this is me, see behind the car. This is Lok Ann, see " as I took a closer look at a second photograph.
"
Oh, you were still a child ! " I exclaimed. His whole life was about this Ottu Kedai. Now this kedai has 3 days to live left.
Senior Uncle Mohamed who started the Ottu Kedai in this exact spot in 1955. Notice that the shelves, signange and arrangements are still similar to what we see today.
Uncle Naina as a boy behind the car parked beside Lok Ann Hotel.
"
Here's myself in The Star 25th August 2011." He pointed at the date and shrugged his shoulders. I wished I knew his heart better.
"
Okay uncle, thank you for sharing your stories with me, goodbye and all the best , " He nodded and smiled as he waited for the next customer.
“Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.”
―
Jane Jacobs,
The Death and Life of Great American Cities
Lok Ann Hotel and Cafe
&
All the men and women who have made her history
(1938 - 2013)
