Birthday Post Part II: a Speakeasy in the Middle of Nowhere
The author, in his jeans and dress shirt, felt quite out of place walking around the dark streets of KL's old downtown. Centuries-old heritage buildings that combine colonial and Chinese influences graced the side of empty streets, some crumbling under the weight of their (decidedly unpolished and non-maintained) history, and most hosting a couple of homeless going to sleep against the noise of a city celebrating the country's 57th Day of Independence from British colonialism. The dark streets are occasionally punctuated by a few bright spots of light emerging from Indian eateries catering to, well, not so many clients.
A few minutes of walk on these dark streets from the nearest LRT station, the author hits upon a rather modern-looking office building, just one of many that grace what used to be the city's CBD before the emergence of the Bukit Bintang and the KLCC areas. He called up his local friend, once again confirming the point of rendezvous that was nowhere to be seen. The designated place was supposed to be some sort of bar, but the neighborhood gives no atmosphere of such. Aside from the Indian eateries and crowds of Independence Day celebrators, there were no sign of life, not mention an active party presence.
On the phone, the friend motioned the author toward the basement of the office building in question. Awaiting him was a simple wooden door, with the giant red letters "No Admittance" that are so readily found in staff only areas of casual restaurants. Hesitantly pushing past the sign, he was confronted with a little dark speakeasy bar, perhaps the size of half his current apartment, filled with smartly dressed locals and foreigners, sipping cocktails costing upwards of 60 Ringgits. Undoubtedly taken aback, he felt himself transported to another place, one largely not befitting the neighborhood that the bar is located.
For those not in the know, the concept of speakeasy come from the Prohibition-era US, when outright ban of alcohol sales and consumption forced waterholes into underground, discreet venues not unlike the place the author found himself this night on his 26th birthday. The high cost and personal connection required to obtain alcohol in the Prohibition Era delegated an aura of exclusivity and high culture status to the speakeasies, an aura that their modern reincarnations, across the world, are attempting to retain and utilize as point of attraction for potential customers.
Even just five minutes into sitting in the speakeasy, the author realized just how easy it is to make that speakeasy concept stick in the Southeast Asian environment. All the elements seem to be in place: a local culture that raises eyebrows to imbibing of alcohol, for cultural and religious reasons; the high prices of alcohol that makes drinking signature cocktails of high quality an activity only for the reasonably well-off; and when cheap alcohol is present, the sure complementary presence of drunken, obnoxious foreigners and "fooling around" with sex as the end game. It is a perfect environment for speakeasies to grow.
The clientele seems to come from a social segment that supposedly should not exist. In this pious society where Chinese/Hindu/Islamic traditions keep social attitudes conservative, the only reason drinking should exist is for pure (and shady) economic reasons. Others should not drink in the open. But they will still drink, because they can afford to, and more often than not, they are exposed to foreign cultures that takes drinking casually (i.e. not piss-drunk and falling over as it happens in Bukit Bintang on a nightly basis). Small as this social segment maybe, economically speaking, they will not be a small one.
And it is a segment that the author hopes to connect more with in the near future. Keeping it low-key as they should, they might be quietly manipulating the behind-the-scenes nuts-and-bolts of Malaysia's economic future. The politicians and the CEOs can make all the big speeches on the unity of the country and its economic equality on its 57th birthday, but really, a small group of the well-connected and (consequently) well-endowed may have to work their magic to put some meat into such big empty talks. It is largely possible that these men behind the scenes retreat to the speakeasies for their own forms of relaxation.
Is the author thinking a bit too highly of the little dark tavern behind the "No Admittance" sign? Perhaps so, but let's hope not. To say the least, the fact that he found a more pleasant alcoholic alternative to KL's excessively rowdy backpacker communities already establishes himself as a resident (this time around) rather than a traveler passing through. Along with a good company for conversation and a few nice drinks, he could not have asked for a better birthday celebration in a city that he not long ago gave up for all its incurable social illnesses. A month in, a new sense of confidence, it is not bad, not bad at all.
A few minutes of walk on these dark streets from the nearest LRT station, the author hits upon a rather modern-looking office building, just one of many that grace what used to be the city's CBD before the emergence of the Bukit Bintang and the KLCC areas. He called up his local friend, once again confirming the point of rendezvous that was nowhere to be seen. The designated place was supposed to be some sort of bar, but the neighborhood gives no atmosphere of such. Aside from the Indian eateries and crowds of Independence Day celebrators, there were no sign of life, not mention an active party presence.
On the phone, the friend motioned the author toward the basement of the office building in question. Awaiting him was a simple wooden door, with the giant red letters "No Admittance" that are so readily found in staff only areas of casual restaurants. Hesitantly pushing past the sign, he was confronted with a little dark speakeasy bar, perhaps the size of half his current apartment, filled with smartly dressed locals and foreigners, sipping cocktails costing upwards of 60 Ringgits. Undoubtedly taken aback, he felt himself transported to another place, one largely not befitting the neighborhood that the bar is located.
For those not in the know, the concept of speakeasy come from the Prohibition-era US, when outright ban of alcohol sales and consumption forced waterholes into underground, discreet venues not unlike the place the author found himself this night on his 26th birthday. The high cost and personal connection required to obtain alcohol in the Prohibition Era delegated an aura of exclusivity and high culture status to the speakeasies, an aura that their modern reincarnations, across the world, are attempting to retain and utilize as point of attraction for potential customers.
Even just five minutes into sitting in the speakeasy, the author realized just how easy it is to make that speakeasy concept stick in the Southeast Asian environment. All the elements seem to be in place: a local culture that raises eyebrows to imbibing of alcohol, for cultural and religious reasons; the high prices of alcohol that makes drinking signature cocktails of high quality an activity only for the reasonably well-off; and when cheap alcohol is present, the sure complementary presence of drunken, obnoxious foreigners and "fooling around" with sex as the end game. It is a perfect environment for speakeasies to grow.
The clientele seems to come from a social segment that supposedly should not exist. In this pious society where Chinese/Hindu/Islamic traditions keep social attitudes conservative, the only reason drinking should exist is for pure (and shady) economic reasons. Others should not drink in the open. But they will still drink, because they can afford to, and more often than not, they are exposed to foreign cultures that takes drinking casually (i.e. not piss-drunk and falling over as it happens in Bukit Bintang on a nightly basis). Small as this social segment maybe, economically speaking, they will not be a small one.
And it is a segment that the author hopes to connect more with in the near future. Keeping it low-key as they should, they might be quietly manipulating the behind-the-scenes nuts-and-bolts of Malaysia's economic future. The politicians and the CEOs can make all the big speeches on the unity of the country and its economic equality on its 57th birthday, but really, a small group of the well-connected and (consequently) well-endowed may have to work their magic to put some meat into such big empty talks. It is largely possible that these men behind the scenes retreat to the speakeasies for their own forms of relaxation.
Is the author thinking a bit too highly of the little dark tavern behind the "No Admittance" sign? Perhaps so, but let's hope not. To say the least, the fact that he found a more pleasant alcoholic alternative to KL's excessively rowdy backpacker communities already establishes himself as a resident (this time around) rather than a traveler passing through. Along with a good company for conversation and a few nice drinks, he could not have asked for a better birthday celebration in a city that he not long ago gave up for all its incurable social illnesses. A month in, a new sense of confidence, it is not bad, not bad at all.
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