"God, it's fucking hot." The thought cycles through my head on repeat as I trudge down a sidewalk-less street that was definitely not designed for pedestrians. Sweat streams down every crevice on my body, and I reach down to peel my elephant print backpacker pants off my thighs for the umpteenth time. Locals on mopeds and bikes stare at me with open curiosity. Foreigners don't often stray miles from the tourist center of George Town, Penang, and they're probably wondering if they should call the police.
But I'm determined to make it to my destination: a little roti canai shop on the outskirts of George Town, frequented by locals and only the most adventurous of tourists. And, after walking over an hour under the boiling Malaysian sun, it finally comes into view - nothing more than tiny shack, really, with a few flat iron griddles and communal tables scattered under a dented sheet metal roof.
Roti Canai Gemas Road is famous for their roti canai: a flaky Malaysian pancake, inspired by Indian paratha and typically doused in curry, topped with a fried egg, and eaten for breakfast. The eatery was founded by a group of Mamak (Indian-Malay) brothers, and to this day remains a family business.
I walk up hesitantly to one of the cooks, and he gestures at the seating area without sparing me a glance, indicating that I should seat myself. I squeeze into the only open seat next to a large, burly local with a neat man bun. He's wolfing down a very large plate piled high with what looks to be several portions of roti canai. I glance uncertainly from him to the cooks, unsure how to proceed.
After a few minutes the man blinks in my direction, as if noticing me for the first time. "Need help?"
Relieved that he speaks English, I nod eagerly. He perks up, as if this is the moment he's been training for all his life, and yells something in Malay to one of the brothers manning the grills. A split second later, a steaming plate of roti, curry, and a chicken thigh drops onto the table in front of me. It smells heavenly.
"Joe," he says, pointing at himself. "I do their social media."
He whips out an old school mobile phone and pulls up Instagram, then proceeds to show me shot after shot of Gemas Road's famous roti canai - all grainy, off-center flat lays that would horrify most food influencers, shared on an account with less than 100 followers. Joe explains that the brothers don't speak English and don't know how to use social media, but they're happy to give him free food in exchange for handling their PR. It's a task Joe would have taken on even without the incentive. Although he was originally just a patron of the brothers' eatery, they quickly welcomed him into their family, inviting him to weddings and even housing him when he was homeless.
"Food brings people together in Malaysia," Joe says with a sage smile. "Now - let's take a selfie."
I pause mid-bite, startled by the sudden subject change. Joe waves at the brothers, and they immediately drop their cooking utensils and shuffle over with shy grins. They ask Joe something in Malay, he nods, and everyone gathers around, throwing up cheerful peace signs. Joe snaps a few shots on his phone, and they disperse.
"Thank you," he says earnestly. "It means a lot to them when tourists visit."
In the end Joe insists that I don't need to pay for my meal, as long as I tell my American friends to come by when they're in Penang. I promise I will, and add him on Instagram - it's the least I can do.
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You can find Annie’s cocktail, food, and travel exploits on Instragam at @iannieyuan