At the Slim River market, Sabri the grocery shop owner, is doing his accounts. His daughter Mina, 5, is doing her kindergarten homework alongside him.
I wanted to capture a candid of both concentrating on their respective work but the kid does what she does best upon seeing a camera. Automatically pose without prompt. What a sweet smile.
Sony Alpha a7R, ISO 100, f8, 1/100 sec.
So thanks to Mokhtar, I ended up in this strange cowboy town known as Slim Village. The shops are erected in a horse-shoe pattern and the street sign says Taylor Road. It is really remote and I love it.
Expecting a tumbleweed to roll out anytime or someone to challenge me to a fight, I walked cautiously in the middle of the main street. Wait. There is only one street.
I ended up in front an Indian restaurant. The head waiter came out and stared at me instead of asking if I want to eat or drink. A group of Orang Asli guys inside the coffee shop were also staring at me.
Two nasty Chinese gangster-types eating outside dropped their cutlery and started staring at me, too. The tension was thick enough to fry on the roti prata pan and the silence deafening.
So I stared back as aggressively and took a picture in between. That was the moment the angry-looking cook behind reached for his knife. Since I am facing imminent death, I might as well ask for one last drink.
I asked: “Aneh, Fanta Grape atau Kickapoo ada?” (Do you have Fanta Grape or Kickapoo soft drink?) .
Luckily for me, it turned out be an icebreaker. The unblinking man replied: “Ada Fanta, boss. Mau ais?” (Got Fanta, boss. Ice to go?) .
Suddenly the Chinese gangsters laughed, the cook laughed, and the Orang Asli people laughed and all was cool. Phew!
Sony Alpha a7R, ISO 125, f4, 1/250 sec.
The vintage Raleigh bicycle used to be known as the Bhai bicycle as it was preferred by local Sikhs who were bigger in physique.
It was also popular with mobile hawkers as it can manage heavy cargo. This one is missing the centre stand, chain box, dynamo, teardrop-shaped headlight and bell.
The likeable thing about Mokhtar is that he is not an aloof or narrowly-focused man, given his fame and success. He engages you in a genuine conversation and can talk about anything under the sun.
The baker asked me which other Slim River attraction I will be visiting next.
Me: I like to hear your recommendations.
Mokthar: I can tell you like places with “character”.
Me: True. That’s why I am here.
Mokhtar: Go to Slim Village then, where there is a strange town square. And don’t forget to visit the nearby hot springs and waterfalls.
Me: I like strange places.
Mokthar: I know. You are strange, too.
He proceeded to give me some very specific and useful directions. With a kaya bun in hand, off I went chasing waterfalls again.
Sony Alpha a7R, ISO 125, f4, 1/320 sec.
In a darkened room, I met the monster Mokhtar keeps as a pet. I nicknamed it Jabba the Hutt. Built by Mokhtar’s father in 1954, the brick oven is similar in design to those used in villages in India. The masonry oven known as a brick oven or stone oven dates back to medieval times.
Jabba has an insatiable appetite for firewood. Mokhtar’s father used to feed it rubberwood when rubber trees were plentiful in Malaysia. It is now fed with discarded wooden furniture. I asked Mokhtar and his response was: “Kayu getah sangat mahal sekarang, bro” (Rubberwood is very expensive now, bro).
So whenever someone in Slim River wants to discard old furniture, they send it to Mokhtar. The bakery is like a recycling center for wood. He turns wood into ashes and bread.
Mokhtar is a media-savvy person. He knew I wanted to capture the ray of lights spilling out from a hole in the ceiling. He waited patiently as I fine-tuned the power of the Sony HVL-F60M wireless flash.
He (Mokhtar, not Jabba) is a celebrity. I understand he appeared on all local television channels from TV1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 to TV 36 or something. He took me to his house nearby to show me newspaper cuttings and pictures framed and hanging from his living room wall.
While there, I noticed furniture was unusually sparse. In my mind, I wanted to ask Mokhtar:
“Bro, if i were to give you a nice IKEA wood table for your birthday, will you promise to assemble it and use it as a table?”
I didn’t ask in the end for I can’t bear to hear his answer. To be continued…
Sony Alpha a7R, ISO 2500, f4, 1/60 sec.
Baker Mokhtar’s late father was Indian-Muslim and his mother a Malay. Like his paternal grandfather, they are from a long line of bakers from Northern India.
I was pleasantly surprised to hear him describe the filling of each type of bread bun in Cantonese. There’s Yeah Chi (coconut shavings), Chee Mah (sesame), Ngau Yow (butter), Kar Yang (kaya or coconut egg jam) and Tau Sar (bean paste); Mokhtar rattled away.
It may seem routine to Mokhtar but if you think about it, what a rich tradition he inherited. Wonderful to taste this heritage product that has adapted to local taste by blending recipes from different cultures.
Mokhtar also bakes regular white Bengali bread loaves but they weren’t ready at the time I was there.
Next: I asked him to show me the big traditional brick oven that he has hidden in another room.
Sony Alpha a7R, ISO 400, f4, 1/60 sec.
