Tradition spurns technology
Mai pou owner
sticks to his traditional grocery business
Left:
Different kinds of rice have different characteristics: They can be
soft, hard, sticky or spongy. Right: Chiu Yam Hua smiles for his customers.
(Eric Tsang)
By Eric Tsang
Traditional
grocery stores, com-monly known as mai pous, were once popular
in Hong Kong, but not anymore.
According
to an article in Ming Pao in August, there were once more than 550 mai
pous in Hong Kong. Today, only one-fifth of them have survived
and they are scattered throughout the region.
Chiu Yam
Hua, 55, is one of the few remaining mai pou owners. His mai pou, called
Tin Shun Ho, is located in Tai Wo wet market.
“At first the mai pou was only a brick house.
“There
was a long, two-lane-wide staircase in the market. People had to climb
up and down while shopping,” he recalled.
The staircase
is now a main road.
Mr. Chiu
worked as a staff in the mai pou in its early days.
In the
past, a mai pou boss and his staff were like a master and his
apprentice.
He watched
and learned from two different bosses before he took over the mai
pou.The first generation dates back to the 1960s.
“My
boss passed this mai pou to me some 20 years ago. I spent a
year learning and memorizing attributes of different goods.
“But
this is not enough to guarantee being a successful mai pou
boss at all.
“I
have to get along well with my customers. This is something that cannot
be taught,” said Mr. Chiu.
He said
that people patronize his mai pou as it is trustworthy and
more like a trademark, acknowledged by the neighborhood.
“Why
do you think a patron who moved to Kowloon years ago keeps coming a
long way back here just to buy our homemade spicy preserved pak choi?”
he asked.
“Also,
wai tau people, the indigenous villagers in Lam Tsuen, flock
to buy rice and tons of supplements at around 6 a.m.,” he said.
He cares
about his customers’ needs.
“When
my regular customers come, they do not have to tell me what they want.
I already know it,” he said.
Furthermore,
he makes his mai pou a convenient and comfortable spot for his elderly
customers to meet each other.
“I
prepare some Chinese black tea for them to sit down, take a sip and
stay for the whole afternoon.
“I
often help them take care of their grandchildren for a while. And when
they go to the public toilet, I keep an eye on their goods bought from
the wet market.
“Of
course, I charge them nothing. Giving a helping hand to needy ones is
normal, right? It does not cost anything,” he said.
Mr. Chiu
is glad to see his mai pou become the locals’ favorite.
He has known most of his customers for 20 years.
“Those
youngsters who used to come with their parents have grown up. They now
come with their own children.
“The
old tastes from their childhood urge them to come back. You know, taste
buds bring good memories,” he said.
Because
his loyal customers keep coming back, Mr. Chiu’s customer base
grows with every generation and is ever expanding.
“But
first, I have to be approved by my customers. My prestige is not built
on nothing. To run my business, I follow four principles,” he
said.
Mr. Chiu’s
first principle is to provide customized service for each customer.
“For
example, every kind of rice has its own character – soft, hard,
sticky or spongy – which depends on the soil and weather of its
origin.
“I
cater to different customers’ personal tastes and give them tailor-made
rice by mixing different portions of the varieties. With decades of
experience, I can even tell their preference at first sight,”
he said.
“How
about supermarkets? Don’t ever think about it. They treat everyone
indifferently and the monotony there suffocates people,” he said.
His next
principle is never to overprice his goods.
Mr. Chiu
offers the most reasonably priced merchandise to his customers, who
are also his friends.
“Frankly,
I do not care whether the business makes a fortune. As long as my staff
get their salaries, the revenues balance the expenditures, and I have
no debts, then I am satisfied,” he said.
His third
principle is to not advertise excessively.
Mr. Chiu
does not advertise his goods with fancy words on huge and eye-catching
banners, claiming that his goods are cheaper than those sold by others.
He said,
“There must be a reason behind unusually low prices. I will never
compromise myself to provide cheap goods by lowering their quality.
“It
will put my mai pou’s reputation at risk. My emblem of
honesty was built with years of enormous effort.”
Mr. Chiu’s
last principle is to believe in hospitality.
“Like
what popular Andy Lau always says, nowadays business cannot be done
in the way it used to be. When serving customers, having a good attitude
is a must,” he said.
“My
past was tinted with blood and tears,” Mr. Chiu said.
“You
cannot imagine how hard it was,” he added.
“My
mai pou opens at 5 a.m. and closes at around 8 p.m., depending on each
particular day. Basically, I have no holiday except when a typhoon comes.
My whole year is spent within this little square.
“But,
I still love my job.”
This accords
to a Chinese idiom: Happiness is brought by satisfaction, not extravagance.
Mr. Chiu’s
business peaked in the 1990s but then it plummeted due to the economic
downturn.
He said,
“The ever diminishing spending power is pushing me towards the
edge of a cliff, not to mention the fierce competition with supermarkets.
“No
doubt there are cheap goods in supermarkets, but they serve as baits.
“Once
you are pushing your shopping cart along the aisles, the comfortable
atmosphere attracts you to stay long. Then you buy more unnecessary
goods unconsciously.”
Getting
agitated, he continued, “Don’t be silly. You cannot compare
our preserved duck eggs, sun-dried tangerine peels, and marinated baby
onions with those in supermarkets.
“Many
of those goods in supermarkets are low quality, even though they seem
to be economical.”
Mr. Chiu
said that no matter how rapidly the supermarkets’ sales figures
rise each year, he is not going to follow suit.
“A
mai pou should always be a mai pou. It makes no sense
for a mai pou to be modernized like a supermarket,” he said.
For example,
air-conditioning in his mai pou is totally out of the question.
“The
rice and preserved items would get moist if the power went out. I don’t
want to see them get ruined.
“The
fans can bring in enough fresh air even in the hot summer.
“In
fact, I try to keep everything as old-fashioned as possible. That’s
why I never refurbish my mai pou.”
The primitive
style captures this mai pou’s uniqueness.
“Also,
do you know why the elderly don’t like shopping in supermarkets?
It is because they detest bar-codes, plastic wrapping, and long queues
at counters.
“And
they think the high shelves and the staff are both unapproachable.
“They
love to talk to me and their old friends here. This mai pou
provides us with a sense of belonging,” he said.
The intimate
friendship with his neighborhood encourages him to go on with his business.
Asked
if he would turn it into a family business, he sighed and said, “I
won’t expect my son to inherit it. He simply doesn’t have
that devotion to the mai pou. He belongs to the younger generation.
A mai pou doesn’t.”
The
mai pou sells canned goods, dried sausages and preserved food. (Eric
Tsang)
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