Rookie Hawker grows up
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I’ve survived for the past 7 months as a rookie hawker after leaving my comfortable job in the corporate world. Working in the corporate world somehow seemed so unreal now. I feel like I have broken out of a glass bubble and was dealt with reality.
I admitted that physically it was hard for the first 3 months. There were days when my unconditioned body was totally fatigued from the physical labour and heat. The midday sun turned my little stall into a furnace not mentioning facing the hot wok. At the end of the day, all I could think of was to lie down. There were days when I had a “Cooks” block and could not think of what dishes to prepare. Some days, the dishes that I dished out were affected by my emotions. In the early days, I occasionally threw a childish tantrum in my kitchen.
After the third month, my body became stronger and I was fit and muscular. I used to struggle with pushing up the roller shutter (as it was partially damaged), but lately, I did not break a sweat. I could finish preparing all 6 dishes plus cleaning up the kitchen within 2 hours. I have also garnered followers for my food. Unfortunately, despite all my efforts to promote my stall, my sales have not increased. This is the main worry for every entrepreneur, no sales. I found my savings depleting to pay for the cost of running the stall and daily wastage from leftover food. I started to donate my food to Homes and fed beggars. In deciding to become a hawker, I made some lifestyle changes as well. I could not afford to rent an apartment and shifted to a room. I forego yoga classes. I stopped shopping for clothes, shoes, handbags, cosmetics and accessories. I stopped eating at air conditioned restaurants. The last tipping point was when my parents had to pay for my rent. It broke my heart to see the worry in their faces, I knew I had to do something. That was when I started writing in to companies for a job. I proudly wrote in my resume of my current occupation as a Hawker. In all my naivety, I see no shame in being a Hawker as I was earning an honest living. I was offered a job within 2 weeks of serious job search.
Let me share with you a day in a life of a Hawker and the people who I have had the honor of meeting.
I woke up every day at 5.30am to pray and meditate. I leave my house at 7.00am and head for the wet market. My sense of smell is assaulted daily with different odors from the market and the large garbage bins next to the Food Court. The vegetable seller and the fish mongers greet me with a loud “Ah Moi” which means “young lass” or “Aunty”. I chose only to reply to the former. Then I would return to my stall, greet the stray cats, open my stall and feed the cats. After that, I would prepare the freshly bought vegetables and fish. My day ends at 4pm, after the busy lunch hour, I would start to clean up at about 3pm.
Since losing my job, I stopped yoga classes and returned after an 8 months lapsed. My guru approached me and asked about my absence. I explained my current financial situation. He then offered me free classes and not only that trained me to become a yoga teacher. I wept with gratitude. The word “guru” in Sanskrit denotes, gu means darkness & ru means light. Therefore, a guru is someone who enlightens you. In every way, throughout my yoga training, I have learned to be more aware of myself through the love and guidance of my guru.
I started befriending the hawkers, the janitors, the grocers. Previously, being a yuppy I have hardly noticed or exchanged words with these people. Now, since I am working amongst them, I have become like one of them. In the past, a hawker would just serve me food, I paid and that was it. My close friend, mentor, was aunty Linda, who runs a drink stall. She was constantly on a look out for me and keeping the things which I accidentally left outside my stall. I learned some silent code of conduct or house rules in the Food Court. She taught me how to fold the large parasol, which to me was like a tango with a rebellious Spanish dancer. I have yet to master the many folds of my “Spanish dancer’s” skirt. She warned me on days where there were fewer patrons such as long weekends or the 1st and 15th of every lunar calendar where the Chinese will go on vegetarian diet.
Aunty Linda is in her 60’s and leads a hard life. She comes from a family of 11 siblings. She speaks good English and was previously working with a corporate company, as a production supervisor. She took over the drink stall from her father. She has an elderly sister who is mentally ill and has diabetes. Aunty Linda’s sister became ill in her late 20’s and the family believed she was possessed by a spirit. Aunty Linda takes care of her sister in addition to running the stall. Aunty Linda reminds me of Florence Nightingale. She goes from stall to stall to help out in cutting vegetables or peeling prawns. She brings comfort and friendship throughout the Foodcourt.
I bought most of my groceries from this couple who are in their 60’s. Despite being only in their 60’s they somehow appear older, I think due to the physical toll of such a lifestyle. The uncle who is helping his wife was formerly an engineer but almost had an emotional breakdown due to the work pressure in the corporate world. The couple was in their early forties then with 3 young children. They decided to turn to a new leaf, left the northern state and headed for Kuala Lumpur with whatever savings they had. They had run their little grocery stall for about 15 years. It is hard to compete with the large retailers these days. The aunty’s face is permanently etched with deep frowns, worry lines.
Now, right beside the dumpsite is a little room. I used to think that the room was a store for the janitors. I found out later that it was the janitor, his wife and their little baby girl, Rahmah’s home. I have never found out their names as I’ve always addressed them as “Kakak” or “Bapak” to be respectful. The room is pitch black. In the last 6 months, I’ve watched Rahmah grew from an infant to a toddler. Her mother would tie her baby walker to a post outside my stall as she went about mopping the floor. Rahmah is sociable and enjoys the sights and sounds around her. She has adapted well to all the eager aunties who want to carry, pinch and poke her.
One morning I found the janitor’s wife squatting at the entrance of the stall. I approached her and found out that she was nursing 4 tiny new born kittens with a feeding bottle. Someone separated the kittens from their mother and abandoned them to die. The janitor’s wife bought a feeding bottle and cat’s milk to nurse them. Unfortunately they were too young to live.
I am inspired by my meeting with this young family of 3 persons. They tried my food in my first month of opening my stall. My rice was half cooked and the wife discretely informed me. This couple has a daughter age 9. The father suffers from diabetes and has lost both legs to this disease. Part of his left hand appeared hoof like because the disease has led to deformity. The wife shared with me excitedly on their vacation plans to Penang. Her husband will be driving them from Kuala Lumpur to Penang for a four day vacation. They wanted to know of all good places to eat. Incidentally I was in Penang as well and we met. The husband greeted me excitedly at the Little Penang Bazaar where I had a stand. They came specially to support me. The husband then asked me for directions to Batu Ferringhi beach as he wanted his daughter to run on a beach for the first time. Before they left me, he clasped both my hands and said “be strong, god bless you”.
One of my customers became like a mother to me. She is Aunty Julie. Aunty Julie and her sister Aunty Lily supplied me with fresh herbs, pickings from their garden. Aunty Julie was formerly a banker. I confided in her about my worries of my financial status. She actively started to find employers and job opportunities for me. When my mother thanked her, she replied “It’s alright. I am a mother too.”
One evening I was cleaning up and had some leftovers. I approached a beggar and asked if he was hungry. He pointed to the plate of vegetables and I heated them up and offered him. After he finished his meal, he offered me RM1.00. I declined and he clasped his hands together in a prayer and started to nod and pray profusely.
I don’t consider myself a failure. As Benjamin Franklin said “I haven’t failed, I had 10000 ideas that didn’t work.” Had I not had the courage to start my little business, even in its humble beginnings, I would have kept on wondering how it would be like. I know now that it is tough and the location of my stall is important to attract the right patrons. I know that my food is good as I was credited by two sous chefs from a large franchise restaurant. I realized that I can live without all the extra perks in life. I don’t need more than 1 pair of shoes. I dislike wasting food and take only as much as I need. I cannot help but watch disapprovingly at the 8 course dinner that my mother serves daily. We could feed 15 people and there are only 5 of us at home. I cry easily these days, most of the time out of gratitude at my good fortune, other times when I see people’s hardship or an animal in pain. I met my ex partner and he told me this, “there is no such thing as lack or destitute. You have 3 full meals a day. Isn’t that abundance?”
I returned last weekend to clean up my stall and gave away some food. I had for the past 2 months adopted a mother cat and her kitten (which died). I have not returned to my stall for the past 2 weeks. The janitor's wife told me that the mother cat (Mummy) has been coming every morning to my stall and sits patiently waiting for me. (reminded me of the movie Hachiko) I went to look for her and found her asleep in a shaded area of the Food Court. She recognised me but appeared thinner and is pregnant again. She refused to eat other food but the cat food which I used to feed her with. I fed her again and she ate greedily. I squatted beside her and watched her eat and I cried. The janitor's wife came to console me and said "don't worry, I will feed her."
I admitted that physically it was hard for the first 3 months. There were days when my unconditioned body was totally fatigued from the physical labour and heat. The midday sun turned my little stall into a furnace not mentioning facing the hot wok. At the end of the day, all I could think of was to lie down. There were days when I had a “Cooks” block and could not think of what dishes to prepare. Some days, the dishes that I dished out were affected by my emotions. In the early days, I occasionally threw a childish tantrum in my kitchen.
After the third month, my body became stronger and I was fit and muscular. I used to struggle with pushing up the roller shutter (as it was partially damaged), but lately, I did not break a sweat. I could finish preparing all 6 dishes plus cleaning up the kitchen within 2 hours. I have also garnered followers for my food. Unfortunately, despite all my efforts to promote my stall, my sales have not increased. This is the main worry for every entrepreneur, no sales. I found my savings depleting to pay for the cost of running the stall and daily wastage from leftover food. I started to donate my food to Homes and fed beggars. In deciding to become a hawker, I made some lifestyle changes as well. I could not afford to rent an apartment and shifted to a room. I forego yoga classes. I stopped shopping for clothes, shoes, handbags, cosmetics and accessories. I stopped eating at air conditioned restaurants. The last tipping point was when my parents had to pay for my rent. It broke my heart to see the worry in their faces, I knew I had to do something. That was when I started writing in to companies for a job. I proudly wrote in my resume of my current occupation as a Hawker. In all my naivety, I see no shame in being a Hawker as I was earning an honest living. I was offered a job within 2 weeks of serious job search.
Let me share with you a day in a life of a Hawker and the people who I have had the honor of meeting.
I woke up every day at 5.30am to pray and meditate. I leave my house at 7.00am and head for the wet market. My sense of smell is assaulted daily with different odors from the market and the large garbage bins next to the Food Court. The vegetable seller and the fish mongers greet me with a loud “Ah Moi” which means “young lass” or “Aunty”. I chose only to reply to the former. Then I would return to my stall, greet the stray cats, open my stall and feed the cats. After that, I would prepare the freshly bought vegetables and fish. My day ends at 4pm, after the busy lunch hour, I would start to clean up at about 3pm.
Since losing my job, I stopped yoga classes and returned after an 8 months lapsed. My guru approached me and asked about my absence. I explained my current financial situation. He then offered me free classes and not only that trained me to become a yoga teacher. I wept with gratitude. The word “guru” in Sanskrit denotes, gu means darkness & ru means light. Therefore, a guru is someone who enlightens you. In every way, throughout my yoga training, I have learned to be more aware of myself through the love and guidance of my guru.
I started befriending the hawkers, the janitors, the grocers. Previously, being a yuppy I have hardly noticed or exchanged words with these people. Now, since I am working amongst them, I have become like one of them. In the past, a hawker would just serve me food, I paid and that was it. My close friend, mentor, was aunty Linda, who runs a drink stall. She was constantly on a look out for me and keeping the things which I accidentally left outside my stall. I learned some silent code of conduct or house rules in the Food Court. She taught me how to fold the large parasol, which to me was like a tango with a rebellious Spanish dancer. I have yet to master the many folds of my “Spanish dancer’s” skirt. She warned me on days where there were fewer patrons such as long weekends or the 1st and 15th of every lunar calendar where the Chinese will go on vegetarian diet.
Aunty Linda is in her 60’s and leads a hard life. She comes from a family of 11 siblings. She speaks good English and was previously working with a corporate company, as a production supervisor. She took over the drink stall from her father. She has an elderly sister who is mentally ill and has diabetes. Aunty Linda’s sister became ill in her late 20’s and the family believed she was possessed by a spirit. Aunty Linda takes care of her sister in addition to running the stall. Aunty Linda reminds me of Florence Nightingale. She goes from stall to stall to help out in cutting vegetables or peeling prawns. She brings comfort and friendship throughout the Foodcourt.
I bought most of my groceries from this couple who are in their 60’s. Despite being only in their 60’s they somehow appear older, I think due to the physical toll of such a lifestyle. The uncle who is helping his wife was formerly an engineer but almost had an emotional breakdown due to the work pressure in the corporate world. The couple was in their early forties then with 3 young children. They decided to turn to a new leaf, left the northern state and headed for Kuala Lumpur with whatever savings they had. They had run their little grocery stall for about 15 years. It is hard to compete with the large retailers these days. The aunty’s face is permanently etched with deep frowns, worry lines.
Now, right beside the dumpsite is a little room. I used to think that the room was a store for the janitors. I found out later that it was the janitor, his wife and their little baby girl, Rahmah’s home. I have never found out their names as I’ve always addressed them as “Kakak” or “Bapak” to be respectful. The room is pitch black. In the last 6 months, I’ve watched Rahmah grew from an infant to a toddler. Her mother would tie her baby walker to a post outside my stall as she went about mopping the floor. Rahmah is sociable and enjoys the sights and sounds around her. She has adapted well to all the eager aunties who want to carry, pinch and poke her.
One morning I found the janitor’s wife squatting at the entrance of the stall. I approached her and found out that she was nursing 4 tiny new born kittens with a feeding bottle. Someone separated the kittens from their mother and abandoned them to die. The janitor’s wife bought a feeding bottle and cat’s milk to nurse them. Unfortunately they were too young to live.
I am inspired by my meeting with this young family of 3 persons. They tried my food in my first month of opening my stall. My rice was half cooked and the wife discretely informed me. This couple has a daughter age 9. The father suffers from diabetes and has lost both legs to this disease. Part of his left hand appeared hoof like because the disease has led to deformity. The wife shared with me excitedly on their vacation plans to Penang. Her husband will be driving them from Kuala Lumpur to Penang for a four day vacation. They wanted to know of all good places to eat. Incidentally I was in Penang as well and we met. The husband greeted me excitedly at the Little Penang Bazaar where I had a stand. They came specially to support me. The husband then asked me for directions to Batu Ferringhi beach as he wanted his daughter to run on a beach for the first time. Before they left me, he clasped both my hands and said “be strong, god bless you”.
One of my customers became like a mother to me. She is Aunty Julie. Aunty Julie and her sister Aunty Lily supplied me with fresh herbs, pickings from their garden. Aunty Julie was formerly a banker. I confided in her about my worries of my financial status. She actively started to find employers and job opportunities for me. When my mother thanked her, she replied “It’s alright. I am a mother too.”
One evening I was cleaning up and had some leftovers. I approached a beggar and asked if he was hungry. He pointed to the plate of vegetables and I heated them up and offered him. After he finished his meal, he offered me RM1.00. I declined and he clasped his hands together in a prayer and started to nod and pray profusely.
I don’t consider myself a failure. As Benjamin Franklin said “I haven’t failed, I had 10000 ideas that didn’t work.” Had I not had the courage to start my little business, even in its humble beginnings, I would have kept on wondering how it would be like. I know now that it is tough and the location of my stall is important to attract the right patrons. I know that my food is good as I was credited by two sous chefs from a large franchise restaurant. I realized that I can live without all the extra perks in life. I don’t need more than 1 pair of shoes. I dislike wasting food and take only as much as I need. I cannot help but watch disapprovingly at the 8 course dinner that my mother serves daily. We could feed 15 people and there are only 5 of us at home. I cry easily these days, most of the time out of gratitude at my good fortune, other times when I see people’s hardship or an animal in pain. I met my ex partner and he told me this, “there is no such thing as lack or destitute. You have 3 full meals a day. Isn’t that abundance?”
I returned last weekend to clean up my stall and gave away some food. I had for the past 2 months adopted a mother cat and her kitten (which died). I have not returned to my stall for the past 2 weeks. The janitor's wife told me that the mother cat (Mummy) has been coming every morning to my stall and sits patiently waiting for me. (reminded me of the movie Hachiko) I went to look for her and found her asleep in a shaded area of the Food Court. She recognised me but appeared thinner and is pregnant again. She refused to eat other food but the cat food which I used to feed her with. I fed her again and she ate greedily. I squatted beside her and watched her eat and I cried. The janitor's wife came to console me and said "don't worry, I will feed her."
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