Out Of A (5-Star) Suitcase

HE'S on first-name terms with Luciano Pavarotti and has been invited to the White House by former US Vice-President Al Gore, which also led to an Oval Office encounter with ex-President Bill Clinton. He's enjoyed a tete-a-tete with Prime Minister Datuk Seri Dr Mahathir Mohamad as well during the latter's many visits to Pangkor Laut Resort.
But Hawaii-born Richard W. Riley, the new general manager of the Shangri-La Hotel Kuala Lumpur, is far from being star-struck. He is just doing what needs to be done to accommodate the needs of heads of state and government - no different from dealing with the regular guests, demanding divas included.
It's all in a day's work.
With 21 years' experience in the industry, Riley does have a few tales to tell though.
Four days after reporting for duty at the Shangri-La, for example, Riley received yet another statesman as a guest - this time in the form of German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder.
The German leader was in Malaysia for a state visit from May 12-14.
"As the hotel general manager, I like to be around and prepared for any and all eventualities. That guy (Schroeder) has got a sense of humour.
"He asked me why I was following him around, to which I replied that his visit was one of the highlights of my career.
"Then Schroeder asked why we had laid out the red carpet, so I explained that this was common practice here for visiting VIPs. The next day when I escorted him out of the lift, he actually nudged me off the red carpet. The German leader actually did that to me!"
The current stint is, however, not Riley's first taste of Malaysia or Malaysian-owned hotels. Prior to his arrival here he had worked at two Malaysian-owned resorts. He was the general manager responsible for the opening of the Pangkor Laut Resort (December 1991 to April 1994), and likewise the Berjaya Le Morne Resort and Casino in Mauritius (April 1994 to January 1996).
"We were at Pangkor Laut for three and a half years. My children really thought they were monkeys. The only friends they had were guests' children and the monkeys - there were about 300 of them, monkeys I mean, on the island."
And it was here that he made Pavarotti's acquaintance. The internationally-renowned tenor was a guest and he performed during the resort's opening ceremony.
Riley still recalls all the necessary arrangements he had to make to ensure that Pavarotti was more than just well accommodated.
"He had this 50-page write-up containing all the things he wanted, such as a bowl of lemons with no pips.
"We also had to bring in a one-foot thick mattress for the massage bed. In fact, we had a special bed made of chengal."
Riley also remembers having to haul a golf cart through the jungle for Pavarotti's use.
"We had put him in a villa on the hill. We had to get a golf cart up to the elevator tower so he could use it to get to the villa. There were easily 50 people in front pulling the cart and 50 more pushing it through the woods."
The effort seemed to be appreciated, for Pavarotti - who together with Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo make up the trio of greatest tenors in the world - personally serenaded Riley.
"It was a Beatles' song. We were at Emerald Bay, sitting on a log, when Pavarotti sang Yesterday to me."
And it was also while working at Pangkor Laut that Riley met Dr Mahathir, whom he drove around in a golf cart.
"I thought him to be very progressive. He cares about the people... few politicians do."
Riley had joined the Shangri-La Group after a three-year stint in Mauritius, moving between properties in Shanghai (1996-1998) and the Philippines (1998-May 2003).
In Manila, he sort of wore two hats - that of general manager as well as security manager.
"Bombs were exploding everywhere. People were walking around with guns."
After three and a half years there, Riley asked his children where they wanted to go next.
"My daughter is 12 years old and has been to five different countries.
My son said Malaysia, and I asked him why. He was very young when we were here last. He had heard some pupils at the British School in Manila going on and on about how great it was when they were here. My daughter then jumped in and said, `yeah, it's alright by me'. I was happy. It was perfect."
Riley said he had been waiting to return to Malaysia "so I could eat".
"I like laksa, I missed the kway teow. I am happy to be back and having good kway teow and laksa."
And he is also a Mat Salleh who loves the odiferous durian. "I know I'm weird. All my friends tell me that. My wife doesn't like them. I also like the little triangular durian cakes."
And local coffee? Nah, Riley's brew of choice is an espresso latte, made
from Brazilian arabaca beans.
He's also slowly reacquainting himself with Bahasa Malaysia, various words he picked up when he was last here.
"A few nights ago while I was having a drink with some of my staff from housekeeping, I said, `satu lagi' when asking for another beer. They all looked at me in astonishment. Yeah, it's slowly coming back."
So what compelled him to join the industry?
"If you're from Hawaii, you either go into agriculture or tourism. I wasn't too crazy about pineapples."
Riley's job has also taken him to Japan, Australia and Singapore, but the China posting must be his most memorable.
It was in Shanghai that the charming 47-year-old met his Chinese wife who was working at the same hotel.
"Do you know what we hoteliers do? We tell our staff not to fraternize with other staff, but we end up marrying other `hotel people'. That's the truth. Look at all the general managers and ask them where they met their wives. It's ironic but true.
"My wife was teaching English. That made communication easier because she was able to understand me. It was harder with the other girls because, as much as I tried to tell them I loved them, I really didn't know how," he adds, cheekily.
Today, however, making himself understood shouldn't be much of a problem as he now speaks passable Mandarin and understands the Shanghai dialect.
It was also in Shanghai that he first met Gore. The US vice-president's visit to the "Paris of the East" was followed by one from Clinton. "Gore told the president to look me up and he did.
"Two weeks later, I was in the US for a family reunion in North Carolina. I made the mistake of telling my aunt about Gore's invitation to the White House. She basically forced my hand and I dialled the Secret Service number on the card.
"They knew about the invite and my meeting the president in Shanghai...well, they are the Secret Service. They know everything."
The Secret Service booked him into the Capital Hilton Hotel in Washington DC and told him, "6.30pm. West Gate. Be There."
When Riley and his family arrived at the White House, Gore personally came out to receive them.
"There were some 200 to 300 people on Pennsylvania Avenue clapping and cheering us.
"When we got into the White House, Gore said there was someone who wanted to say hello and walked straight into the Oval Office where the president was.
"The president was on crutches, he had twisted his knee or something while in Australia. My son ran right up to him and sat on his lap. He mesmerised my wife... well, he is Mr Smooth... walked her through his office and showed her the things that he picked up in Australia.
"Being Chinese, she found it all an incredible experience. After all, very few Americans themselves can actually say they went to the White House and met the president.
"I'm not very American. I've been out of the country for 23 years, (but) I felt an immense sense of pride.
"It was extremely interesting. They (Clinton and Gore) didn't have to do that. They could always have said they had things to do. I came out of there, thinking `it's too bad that I didn't vote for them'."
It was only later that Riley found out he had visited the president a day after the latter broke up with Monica Lewinsky.
"When the Starr Report came out, we checked the dates," he said.
For Shangri-La Hotel Kuala Lumpur, Riley said he has established certain priorities.
"I am at a point where I feel secure enough to be able to understand what I want and believe in my ability to judge what others want in a hotel.
"It may not all be great, but I am looking at the nuances that create this. The greatest achievement would be to bring this hotel to what I believe it can become. And I believe the Shangri-La Hotel Kuala Lumpur can really kick butt."

Cheap Snips

DEEP in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, in a lorong off Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman, is a colony of Malay barbers which has been in existence since the city's Great Flood of 1971.
There used to be 15 small wooden shops, but there are only 13 now, although they are bigger in size. Two of the lots have been converted into stores selling textiles and headscarves.
There are definitely great movie script prospects here, too - P. Ramlee Bujang Lapok style, perhaps.
The barbers not only offer possibly the cheapest haircuts in the city at RM10, (depending on the choice of style), but they also have interesting stories to tell.
Take for example Shamsuddin Japri, Ashaari Mohd Dani and Suldi Junaidi of Sentosa, Lot 5, of the colony.
Shamsuddin, 58, the eldest of the trio, is popularly known as Charlie Din.
"Ramai sangat Din masa tu. Masa muda, pakcik ada misai tebal. Orang kata macam pelakun Holly wood tu, siapa nama dia? Charles Bronson? Dapat nama ikut dia. (There was one too many Dins then. When I was young, I had a thick moustache. People said I looked like the Hollywood actor... [Charles] Bronson. I got my name from him)," the now clean-shaven Shamsuddin offers by way of explanation.
Ashaari, 53, is Jimmy Din. No reasons are offered as to how he came by such a name, nor is there a resemblance between him and the late Hollywood legend James Dean. Ashaari has been a barber for 30 years.
Suldi, 47, has been in the trade for 15 years, and is in fact related to Aziz Sattar, one of the Bujang Lapok stars.
"Sedara sebelah emak saya (we're related on my mother's side)," he says, speaking with a slight Javanese accent, adding that Aziz still drops in occasionally for a haircut and a chat.
Looking back, Ashaari says the shop started out with only two chairs and a wall-mounted fan to keep the air cool.
"We asked to extend the shop and City Hall allowed us to add two more chairs and we have since installed air-conditioning units."
The barber chairs were imported from China and Japan. A brand new one costs as much as RM4,000 while a used one can be had for RM1,500. And if these chairs could talk, they'd be able to tell you a lot of stories, Suldi says.
"Menteri pun ada (we have ministers too).…”
Minister in the Prime Minister's Department, General (Rtd) Abdul Hamid Zainal Abidin is apparently one of Sentosa's regular customers.
"He'll call from Putrajaya to tell us that he'll be coming in and that we should wait for him," Suldi adds.
A haircut used to cost RM7 until a few years ago, and a shave RM5. Sorry, no "wash and blow-dry" as there is no water.
"Kalau ada, kami pun boleh buat (if we had water, we could offer that too)," Ashaari says.
The three gentlemen have also had their fair share of difficult customers.
"Customer cerewet, kita buat apa? Kita senyum saja (what can we do if customers get difficult? We just smile)," Ashaari says, flashing his pearly white teeth.
Arabs, he adds, are by far the most difficult patrons. "There was one Arab customer who insisted on checking in the mirror every time I made a snip. How could I finish cutting his hair when he kept doing that?
"Another customer insisted on combing his own hair while I was cutting it. We've been cutting hair most of lives yet we still have customers telling us how to do our jobs."
For Shamsuddin the biggest challenge, rather ironically, is when a customer offers no instructions and simply leaves the style of trim up to him.
"I find it rather tough when they tell us just to cut their hair any way we please. I've asked customers what they'd do if I were to shave them bald, and I've been told just to go right ahead. They trust us to make them look good."
All three barbers take pains to ensure they look presentable too.
"We are in the service industry. When we look good, our customers will feel good too," Shamsuddin explains.
The barbers also receive customers who ask for haircuts that make very little difference to they way they look. A simple trim is all they're after.
Most customers come in during lunchtime or after office hours, but some come in during working hours.
"Once, we had a customer who came in during office hours. I was busy cutting his hair when his superior walked in. We were later told that when they got back to the office, the officer was told to fill up a borang cuti (leave form) as he had been away from the office for half of the day."
Ramadan is easily the busiest month for all the barbers here.
"There's no such thing as rest the week before Raya. Everyone rushes in to have their hair cut," Ashaari says.
The shops are open seven days a week and only close once a year – for Hari Raya Puasa.
"We'd have to answer to our wives and families if we didn't close for Raya. And we don't want to have to do that," Ashaari says, with a laugh.
On weekends and public holidays, the partners take turns to man the shop.
Most of the time, they don't need to ask customers how they want their hair cut as the regulars tell them exactly how they want it done, even down to the clipper number to use.
True enough, an Iranian customer walks in and tells Shamsuddin, in perfect Bahasa Malaysia, "empat belakang, separuh atas" (four back, half top).
The numbers represent the mould of the clipper. "0" or "1" is for a close shave, "2" for a haircut that looks like week-old stubble, "3" is a crew-cut (of the kind sported by police recruits), and "4" a trim. There's even a style known as the chairman's cut.
"When a customer asks for that cut, we know he wants to look good. Nak segak dan bergaya (he wants to look good and stylish)."
At RM12, a flat-top costs a little more than the normal haircut.
"It's not easy to cut a flat-top. Macam landasan kapalterbang. Tak semua rambut boleh buat. Rambut macam dawai saja boleh. (Like an airport runway. It cannot be done on any kind of hair. Only on hair that's like wire)," Shamsuddin says.
Whenever one of them is free, he will stand outside the shop to usher in customers.
"In the past, when there weren't many barbers, you could see customers queuing up. Now, there are so many, we have to attract customers in.
"But this doesn't mean that we are competing with each other. If we have too many to handle, we pass them on to the barber next door," Ashaari say.
Business is brisk. In two hours, they have tended to eight customers. Then there are those who come in just for a chat. What about their own hair?
Suldi reveals that Shamsuddin is the only one among them who can cut his own hair.
"He stands in front of the mirror and runs the clipper through his hair.
He makes it look easy."